#it could start off as a really shitty joke and then grow into 'oh god is that why he does that??'

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

hate when i see a youtube video that's like 'analyzing why [thing] is bad!' and you watch the video and they just say nothing for twenty minutes

[moonspirit]

Jealous aruani are fun and all, but...what if it's their friend that's the reason for the jealousy??? No love triangles.

Annie suddenly feels a twinge of irritation when she sees Pieck say something to Armin and they laugh together. Or maybe Armin overhears gossip about how Annie Leonhart and Connie Springer look so cute together. The next time he sees Connie, his stomach twists. And it's terrible!

Considering how Armin and Annie both have self-esteem issues...well, I can see how that could happen. Irritation, doubt, jealousy, and self-loathing for feeling that way about a friend. it's just painful, stupid and awkward. I have no idea how they will solve this😗

Hello jealousy anon! As promised, and thank you for the ask, it made me laugh xD

Because of-fucking-course there's nobody more capable of causing problems for Aruani off more than their very own family xD If you ask me, outsiders don't have the type of talent the other four have in creating misunderstandings and unnecessary chaos xD Plot-required-3rd-party-love-interest who? Move over, here's Connie the Springer man!

At first it's all quite unintentional. Connie spends time with Annie because Circumstances and Coincidence and hardly notices Armin's watery puppy eyes gazing at him from a depressing corner. It's not like Armin ever says anything out loud either because of course, he's happy! He's happy Annie has a silly friend that makes her laugh and forget that she's awkward and possibly frightening around people. He's glad Connie comes prepackaged with a whole lot of shitty jokes that happen to tickle her. He's really fucking glad Connie treats Annie like he treats everyone else!

But. Connie can also... dance. Really well. Like the guy's got those moves and can easily take Annie for a nice spin. He also... makes her laugh, like... a lot? A lot lot? Hm.. has Annie ever laughed like that with me? Uh... yeah, nevermind that, um- oh god, Connie's been looking pretty nice lately in those suits and he's rather good with the whole easy-fashion thing and uh- well shit, it's Connie, he's my friend, he's not- no, I mean, that photo in the newspapers was just an accidental shot, of course Annie was just laughing at his bad joke but well... she did look really happy with him and, oh shit--

Man.

Pieck on the other hand, doesn't fuck with people more than necessary. I don't actually see her getting *too* close with Armin but they do become very good friends! They have a lot in common, (for example music) and vibrate on the same atomic level of "yeah this is wrong and backhanded and probably will get us arrested in 18 countries but lets do it hehe". Hc that they probably get off to a slightly rocky start as Pieck doesn't put much faith in Armin's "naivete" and harbours resentment for his blowing up of Liberio's port, but as time goes by, they grow closer!

Maybe... too much closer for someone's liking 💀

Because okay? Annie gets it, she finds politics too boring and her takes end up being too cynical and skeptical in the room. Technically, she's glad Armin has someone in Pieck who will humour his ideas with a generous (but nice) dash of realism. Also, they enjoy picking out records together and she often finds them nodding their heads to a new tune once home.

She's glad, okay?

She is, she really is-

*sound of a thigh being stabbed followed by sounds of Reiner screaming*

Pieck is a cheerful girl tho 🥲

On a serious note, both Aruani are going to feel like total crap about this jealousy tho. Because as you said, it's their friends, their literal family who they share a lot of time and space with, and if anything could be clear it's that none of them want to see Aruani unhappy. So its not real, it's not anything to worry about, it's all just in their heads-

And yet.

Tbh the extra funny bit about this is gonna be when Connie and Pieck realize what they're doing to their poor lemonheads xD

"What! We're making you jealous?! wHAaT?? ... Hell YEAH, LET'S TURN IT UP!"

🥲🥲🥲🥲

I mean what else did you expect lol, Pieck and Connie are that duo who are going to derive more entertainment from their very own organic, homegrown family-drama than the moving pictures being shown in the town-square.

Suddenly it's all: "HEHE Armin, I bought Annie CAKES, see? FIVE Cakes! FiVE delICIOUS cakes and *I* am going to give it to her! Me!"

and: "Annniieeeeeeee~~ Oh no, why the long face this morning? Btw did you know Armin wants kids? Like a lot of kids? He told me- oh, he didn't tell you? Hehe I thought you'd be the first to know hehehehehe"

Their approaches to fanning this dumpster fire are different 😌

Their solution when things get too Sad?? Lock Aruani up in a room. Always ends well.

[stayteezdreams]

Masquerade

Plot: While attending a Christmas masquerade, Changkyun meets someone who steals his heart. But what does he do when they disappear at the end of the night? (Cinderella-esque au but not really)

Pairing: Im Changkyun | I.M x Gn!Reader

A/n's: I avoided using any descriptors for the Readers outfit (not a dress or suit specifically), but I did describe the color and "pattern", sorry if its not your vibe. Cinderella-esque vibe, but the reader is more like the step-sister being forced to the ball to meet a prince rather than sneaking in to enjoy the ball.

Warnings: Defenestration mentions (as a joke) . Reader has kind of shitty parents. This is written in a style sort of like older stories where the parents basically marry off their children to wealthy people no matter who they are.

Words: 4.8k

As Changkyun looked himself over in the mirror he let out a sigh. Every year, his parents threw a massive party for Christmas. This year the theme was masquerade.

He didn't often attend the parties or would at least pop in and say hello to some people. But this year, he was demanded to stay by his parents. And he knew it was because they wanted to find him a "match."

He was lucky that they didn't care much about the status of whoever he would end up with. But they were pushy about when he ended up with someone.

And because he had not met anyone that he felt anything strong for, they were starting to throw people his way in hopes some feelings surfaced. He knew tonight would be no different, if not worse.

Reluctantly leaving his room, he made his way down into the party, many eyes on him as soon as he entered. Even though he had a mask on, most knew who he was already.

He barely made it ten steps into the room before his mother saw him and began leading over a woman, and who he assumed was her daughter.

'Oh God, here we go.'

He put on a charming smile as they approached, greeted and chatted with them. And of course, after a stern look from his mother, asked her to dance.

She was nice, but a bit dense, and clearly only interested in money and status. Definitely not his type.

One after another, he was introduced, one after another he danced, and by the time nine o'clock came, he was ready to throw himself out of the nearest window.

Managing to escape to a corner, pretending to get a drink, his eyes raked over the room. He wondered if he could make it out of the door without anyone stopping him. Most everyone seemed to be growing tipsier as the night went on.

As he eyed the back of the room, his eyes locked onto a figure moving at the back, behind everyone else.

You were clearly trying to sneak away from something or someone as you continuously looked over your shoulder. It was working, as no one seemed to notice you except him. Though he wasn't sure how.

You were immediately alluring, and your outfit eye-catching, the color was black- no, a deep blue in the light, and it was covered in thousands of tiny sparkles that made it seem like you were covered in stars.

Changkyun didn't realize he was holding his breath as he watched you successfully reach the balcony door unseen and sneak out into the night. He let out a soft scoff as he felt more intrigued by the fact there was someone else here who was as desperate to escape as he was, if not more so.

Setting his glass down, he tried to make his way swiftly to the balcony to follow you. Narrowly escaping a few people attempting to stop him, he finally slipped out the door and looked around for you.

He felt a disappointed pang in his chest as he couldn't spot you, until his eyes spotted a shimmering figure heading into the covered garden. Following you, he wondered why he was so compelled by you.

The weight in your chest already seemed to lift as you escaped into the garden. No one was around, and the night air was calming, though cold.

All night you had entertained your parents demands for you to find a spouse. Met and talked with various people, all with the same bland personality and conversation starters. You never hated small talk as much as you did with a man who had a personality centered around wealth and status.

It was just like your parents to bring you to a wealthy family’s party just to garner the attention of elites who wanted easy to gain spouses. Your parents often mentioned they wanted you to marry for love, yet they threw you at any one they could whenever they got the chance and insisted you force the love to follow.

Finding your way into a small clearing, your eyes gazed around at the trees, all decorated in lights and Christmas ornaments. You smiled as you wondered why they went to so much effort to decorate areas no one went too.

Then your eyes landed on a swing hanging from a large tree. You smiled at the site as you sat down, swaying back and forth and allowing yourself to breathe for the first time tonight. You wondered how much time you could get yourself before your parents found you.

Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back, you took in some cold brisk breaths as you tried to calm your anchored anxiety.

Hearing a crunch in the gravel nearby, your eyes shot open as you spotted a man standing not too far away. He was tall, slim, but fit, black hair just past his ears. He was wearing a slick silk black suit and a mask to match. Even at a distance you could see he was attractive.

He raised his hand at your reaction and let out a soft breathy laugh. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

You didn't recognize him, so you assumed he wasn't someone sent after you by your parents.

You bowed your head softly and smiled, "That's alright."

He took a tentative step forward as he spoke, "I noticed you flee the house and grew curious."

You frowned softly, "Why?"

He smiled and your heart fluttered unexpectedly. "I thought I was the only one who wanted to run away."

You remained silent for a second before you let out a soft breathy laugh. "Forced by your parents?"

He grinned at this, you just told him, without really telling him, why you were so fed up with being here.

"Forced by the parents."

You tilted your head in confusion for a moment before it donned on you what he might mean. "I suppose this is your home then?"

He nodded almost sheepishly at the identification. He began to wonder slowly towards you, walking behind the swing as he spoke, his eyes remaining on you the whole time.

"My parents host this party every year. But this year they are quite determined to find me a match. Since I am taking too long in finding my own-"

"They will find one for you."

He chuckled as he nodded, though you couldn't see him. "I assume it’s the same for you then?"

You nodded as you swung once in the swing again. "Unfortunately. Though, I was never really given the opportunity to find my own spouse. I will only marry someone they approve of, and that in itself is already an absurd standard."

"So, no matches tonight then?"

You shrugged. "Apparently they are fond of this particularly well-known man names James."

Changkyun felt his heart drop at this. He looked at you, your soft profile in the moonlight as you gazed outwards, no idea what your fate would become if your parents chose him. Anyone in his family’s close circle knew exactly who he was, but someone outside of it might not.

"Not him."

Something in his tone sent a chill down your spine. You stopped your movement on the swing as you turned to look at him, he was behind you, a few steps away, his eyes on you and his gaze tense.

"He's not a good man."

The tone of his voice held contempt and fear, making your chest tighten. He was being truthful.

You nodded softly in understanding, "Not him."

He nodded once, letting out a soft breath. Even though he didn't really know you, he knew you were far too good to be paired with someone like him.

Your heart jolted at the sound of distant voices, listening for a moment, you recognized then, your parents. They were clearly upset and looking for you.

"Shit." You cursed under your breath, but Changkyun was quick to catch on.

"Your parents?"

You nodded as you rose from the swing, looking around for another path. Before you could choose where to go, you suddenly felt the stranger grab your wrist lightly.

As you looked at him in alarm, he gently pulled you along. "Come on."

Between following a stranger you knew nothing about, and being caught by your parents, you knew the clear answer was to follow the stranger into the darkness of the garden.

Letting him lead you down a stony path, you watched as the path slowly became more overgrown, clearly having been forgotten about. Ducking underneath an old overgrown willow tree, you stared in awe as you came through the other side to see a large gazebo covered in vines.

The moon above you lit up the area well enough to see, as the two of you stepped up into the gazebo. You looked around at the old structure, clearly forgotten about by everyone but him.

Changkyun looked back at you and smiled at your awestruck gaze. Your clothes were twinkling in the moonlight, and he could feel the way his stomach fluttered as he watched you. Had he a mirror, he would see the same gaze on your face plastered on his as he looked at you.

He finally spoke with a soft voice, "I often come here to escape. Tonight, I will lend it to you."

You smiled at him and his heart stuttered. "Thank you."

He smiled at you and bowed his head slightly in response.

As he began turning away, you hesitated "Wait-" he looked back at you and you suddenly felt shy, "Are you leaving?"

He hadn't intended on it, but your reaction when you thought he was made him near giddy. "Do you want me to stay?"

You shrugged lightly, not sure what to do now. "I thought we could talk more is all."

Changkyun grinned and you felt your heart skip a beat. He stepped closer to you, "We could."

As he stared at you with a smile, you couldn't help but smile brightly in return. Something about this stranger had your heart fluttering in ways you had never experienced.

While the party inside continued, and your parents wandered near every inch of it to find you, you and Changkyun talked nonstop. You learned that you had much more than your pushy parents in common.

As silence settled between you after you had laughed at one of his stories, the sound of music became louder.

You looked towards the house, as the sound traveled along the soft breeze. And suddenly you remembered where you were, having been so lost in your conversations with your new friend, you had nearly forgotten.

Changkyun stood up, catching your attention as he placed out his hand for you to take. "Do you want to dance with me?"

You looked at this hand before you smiled, "I thought you had grown tired of dancing tonight?"

He smiled and he shrugged his head, "I grew tired of dancing with the people my parents forced on me. I'd very much like to dance with someone I choose."

Heart fluttering again, you gently took his hand as you rose, "Good answer."

He chuckled softly as the two of you began dancing, your motions flowing together smoothly as you seemed to have a good rhythm together.

As you danced around the gazebo, moonlight peeking through, Changkyun was in awe of your presence. He had never felt this towards anyone, let alone someone whose name he didn't even know.

This thought suddenly struck him, why hadn't he asked your name? Let alone tell you his own.

Spinning you once more, he pulled you close to his chest as the song died out, the sound of distant clapping heard. Your eyes were locked as your hands remained clasped. Slowly, you parted with a single step back.

You held your breath as he slowly raised his hands towards your mask, to remove it. You had nearly forgotten you had still been wearing it all along. Your face barely looked any different with or without it, but his actions still made your heart race.

Before he could remove it, however, you heard the sudden loud chiming of a clock.

Your head snapped in the direction of the house, catching Changkyun off guard.

"It’s midnight?"

Changkyun almost laughed, he hadn't realized the two of you had spent so long out here together. It felt like no time had passed at all, he would be glad to have more.

Unfortunately for him, your thoughts were the opposite as you looked back at him with panic.

"My parents are going to kill me. We were supposed to have left by now. They must be going crazy!"

Changkyun watched as you darted away from him and out of the gazebo.

"Wait!" He called after you as he ran to follow.

You were cursing to yourself the whole way back to the house. Worried your parents would punish you, fearful they may have left you here, and disappointed you had to leave.

Climbing up the steps back to the house, as you were about to grab the door handles to go back inside, you stopped as you were grabbed by your elbow.

As you looked back, Changkyun was hurrying to catch his breath. "But I never got your name."

Your eyes widened in realization. How had you spent that much time with him, talking, laughing, gazing, dancing, and yet you never actually introduced yourselves?

"Oh it's-"

Before you could tell him your name, the doors burst open, revealing your clearly disheveled if not somewhat buzzed parents.

You opened your mouth, ready to give excuse after excuse, but they grabbed your arms and wrists as they began pulling you inside.

"Do you realize how long we had been looking for you?!"

"Where did you go?! Were you with someone? Who?"

As they dragged you through the house and towards the front door, you looked back to see Changkyun trying to follow you. He wanted to know your name, to tell you his, he wanted to introduce himself to your parents, to tell them not to let James anywhere near you.

Suddenly stopped by his own parents, he tried to push past them but failed, his heart dropping as he saw you dragged out the front doors and away from him.

His parents bombarded him with similar questions your own parents whispered into your ears.

"Just one moment, okay? I'll explain later!"

Managing to push past them, he made his way through the remnant crowd, and out the front door. His eyes darted from person to person, group to group, as many people were leaving and lingering in the front of the house.

He let out a disdained sigh as he saw you nowhere in sight. He had been too late to catch up to you, you were gone.

He stared out at the crowd of people, ignoring people as they greeted him, his mind only on you. He felt as though something wonderful had been ripped away from him. How was he going to get it back? He had to find you. He needed to. He would.

Swinging gently on the swing he first met you at, Changkyun stared ahead, lost in thought. It had been nearly a week since the masquerade, and he had yet to find out who you were.

After telling his parents about you, they were intrigued as well, wanting to know who gained their son’s attention so undividedly. So, even they tried to help find you, but came up with nothing. You remained a mystery, as though you had never been there at all.

He even considered reaching out to James, but with their relationship and how vindictive he was, he might seek you out to hurt you because of him.

He began to wonder if maybe your parents had pulled some strings and got an invite from someone else, or maybe snuck you in all together. Perhaps that was why they dragged you out of the party so quickly. You had overstayed your welcome and as the crowds were dying down, your presence might become more noticeable.

Letting out a soft laugh at the thought, he shook his head as he leaned back and looked up at the cloudy sky. "Why didn't I ask your name sooner?" He spoke allowed, to the sky, remembering how he felt as the two of you danced and smiled together.

His chest tightened as he grew more frustrated. There had to be a way to find you again. If you were so prevalently on his mind a week later, surely, he truly felt something for you.

Feeling a chill shudder over him from the winter breeze, he returned into his home. As he entered the dining room, he overheard the end of a conversation from his parents.

"Of course it would be a contract marriage, no one would marry James if they really knew him."

Changkyun stopped dead in his tracks, a chill running over him as a bad feeling filled his gut. Marching into the room up to the table, he looked at his mother with alarmed eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, well, James is engaged apparently, a contract marriage."

He placed his hands on the table harshly as he leaned in, "To who?!"

"Why are you so upset?"

"Because-" He recalled that night, your parents had an interest in James being with you, but did they really sell you off to him? "Find out who it is mother, please, I think it might be the one I met that night."

Seeing and hearing the urgent desperation in her sons’ voice, she nodded, quickly rising to find out more information. Changkyun's father ushered him to sit, to question him further. Changkyun only hoped if it was you, that he could stop it before you were married off to a monster.

The second his mother came back with a name and address, Changkyun was out the doors and on his way to you. He needed to make sure you would be free of this engagement, no matter what.

"Y/n" He muttered the name to himself breathlessly as he pictured your face, a soft smile forming on his own. "It suits you."

Your chest was heavy with anxiety as you sat in the corner of the room looking at anything but your parents and James.

You had tried to convince them not to pair you with him, but since you learned no real details about why your mystery friend warned you about him, they didn't listen. And nothing other than he is a horrible dangerous person would deter them.

It didn't matter if the way he looked at you made you uncomfortable, it didn't matter if he was ten years older, it didn't matter if he made weird comments openly about the maids.

Unless you could find another suitor, a better suitor, it was only "You'll get used to it", "Feelings will come with time", "He probably isn't as bad as you think."

Part of you wanted to go back to the home where you had attended the masquerade. To be with, well, whoever he was, and get him to help you. And maybe, just maybe, the two of you could grow closer.  

But after you learned that you and your parents were never supposed to be at that party, you felt mortified to ever return. You were party crashers, and you hadn't even known it.

"I was thinking we could have the wedding next week."

Your heart clenched at James's suggestion. Daring a look at him he caught your eye and smiled, an eerie smile. He knew of your reservations against him, he knew you wanted nothing to do with him. What would he be like when you no longer had your parents around?

The anxiety nearly made you dizzy. What was your future holding for you. Torture? Sadness? Loneliness?

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted at the sound of loud pounding at the door. It was loud and sudden enough to make you jump. Waiting and watching as you heard muffled voices before hurried footsteps came closer to the study, your hand clenched the arm of your chair nervously.

Your fear was replaced by surprise and relief as the man you met at the masquerade barged into the room. He looked disheveled and breathless, as he looked around the room hurriedly.

As his eyes met yours, you rose from your seat.

You knew well enough what he looked like, but without the mask, seeing him for everything he was, made your heart flutter heavier than it ever had before.

He let out a sigh of relief, his heart swelling as he saw you. "Y/n"

As your name left his lips, you moved to take a step towards him but stopped as your father stepped forward with a demanding voice.

"Who are you?!"

Quickly bowing in respect, he apologized for his sudden entry. "I must insist I speak with you regarding your betrothal of Y/n to James."

"Changkyun." The voice that left James was full of venom as he stared daggers into him.

'Changkyun' that was his name?

"I must insist you know exactly who it is you are trying to marry your child off too." Changkyun was speaking to your parents, but his eyes never left James.

"You will leave this house!" James countered, but you stepped forward suddenly.

"No! He will not."

Changkyun's eyes finally left James and landed on you. Your stance was defiant as you looked from James to Changkyun. "I want to know too."

Your father let out an annoyed grunt before he waved his hand at Changkyun. "Fine, but you will tell me who you are first! I want to know if you have the authority to tell me anything!"

"I am Im Changkyun Sir."

Your parents suddenly straightened up at the sound of his name, one they clearly recognized.

"And I am Y/n's friend."

His eyes fell to you as he spoke, his voice somewhat hesitant on the word 'friend', as he knew he felt more for you than mere friendship.

You smiled at him, and something in your face told him you felt the same.

Looking back at your parents he spared James one more look. "James is a violent drunk who had made many an innocent person disappear for the mere instance of looking at him for too long. He is cruel, disrespectful, and a bastard overall. If you marry Y/n off to him, you will never see them smile, laugh or be healthy again."

"You bastard, how dare you!" James rushed at Changkyun, but he easily dodged him and knocked him off his balance with a swift movement of his leg.

As he tried to attack Changkyun again, you wanted to rush forward, but Changkyun, seeing this, moved to block you instead, so that you would not get hurt.

Your father yelled at James to stand down, gaining his attention well enough that he regained most of his composure.

Your father was clearly disgruntled and upset over everything that was happening. Your mother, grabbing his arm to steady not only herself, but him.

"I can see from that outrageous outburst, that what Mr Im said must hold some truth to it. And I know of the Im family well enough to know they are far more respected than you." As your father looked over at you, recalling the numerous times you begged him to break the engagement he let out a sigh, "I will break the engagement at once."

You let out a soft sigh as you gently rested your head against Changkyun's back out of relief without thinking much of the action.

Changkyun, feeling this, smiled softly, the own heavy weight on his shoulders lifting as he realized he managed to save you from an unbearable fate.

James, unable to bear the offense, only grew angrier, "We are already engaged, you cannot break it now!"

"This is not the 1800's, your engagement can be ended as easily as it was formed." Changkyun countered.

After more petty remarks and arguing, James finally turned his attention to you. "I suppose you're happy now" He scoffed, as if spitting at you. "Who would want to marry you if not me? Huh!?"

You had no time to be offended by his comment before Changkyun responded, his voice laced with a dangerous tone, telling James not to overstep.

"I will."

You looked at him with shock, your heart practically leaping from your chest. Your mother grabbed at your father's arm, secretly relishing in the fact you had men fighting over your hand.

"And I would do far better in marriage than you could ever wish or imagine. It is not Y/n that no one wishes to marry, it is you. Haven't you ever wondered why so many disregard and avoid you? You are the one no one wants."

Stunned out of anger, James could make no retort before your father had him removed from the home. You could hear him cursing your family as he left, but you feared no real retaliation or effect on you or your family. He may be wealthy but held no influence.

As a tense silence filled the room, you saw your mother reader to charge at Changkyun with questions and excitement, but you stepped forward.

"Mother, father, please let me speak to Changkyun alone for a bit, okay?"

Your mother wanted to protest but gave in to your stern look. After they left you alone, you turned to face Changkyun, who swallowed nervously.

"Are you insane?"

He blinked a few times, "For what? Saving you from a marriage with James?"

You let out a soft laugh, "No. Not that, we'll get to that later. I'm talking about the fact that you just told my parents you would marry me!"

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that!"

Letting out an awkward, almost shy laugh as he scratched the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. "I mean, it wasn't a lie."

You stared at him in stunned silence for a moment and he let out another sot laugh. "You can't say you didn't feel anything that night. Between us."

Butterflies rampaged through you as you repressed a smile, that did not go unnoticed by him. "Yes, I did. But marriage?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Well. We could just have a very, very long engagement. Until we got to know each other a bit more. Or maybe your father will let us put it off, for now."

"For now?" You repeated softly, your ears and neck heating up.

He nodded as he stepped towards you. "I have already told my parents all about you. And I wouldn't be surprised if my mother has already planned a wedding out in her mind already."

You laughed, "Honestly my mother is probably doing the same right about now." You ended this with a soft glare at him making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry, it was very sudden. But I couldn't let James get away with saying something like that to you."

You gently chewed the inside of your cheek as you looked down bashfully, recalling again how he defended you. "Thank you, for coming to save me."

He grinned at this, stepping toward you again, now right in front of you. His gaze met yours with a gentle fondness that took your breath away.

"I've been looking for you, ever since that night. I only knew where to find you after hearing about James's engagement. I'm glad I got here in time. I was afraid I would have been too late."

"And if you had been?"

He hummed softly before answering, "I would have crashed your wedding and stolen you away."

You let out a startled laugh, making him chuckle as well. You nodded, "Somehow, I can imagine that."

You felt a shiver rise up your body as he suddenly set his hands on your shoulders, making you look at him.

"So, given two options. Stay engaged to me, and let me court you, or announce that you have now had two engagements broken, what would you choose?"

"Starting off a relationship with an engagement? I thought you said this wasn't the 1800's anymore?"

He chuckled, "It isn't, but like I said, we can have a very long engagement. Besides, if you were engaged to me, neither of our parents would continue and introduce us to everyone they could.”

You repressed another laugh as he grinned at you, making your cheeks burn with bashful embarrassment. “A win, win situation then?”

He nodded with a grin, and you chuckled softly. "I suppose if I had to choose, one of those choices is much more appealing."

Taking a small step closer, so the two of you were only a few inches apart, he nodded before speaking softly. "I promise I will prove myself to you."

"More than you already have?"

He nodded confidently, "Yes. Much more."

You stared at each other with fondness, and growing affection. You smiled softly, daring him with your eyes, and somehow knowing he would do exactly as you said.

"Alright. Prove it then."

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about the ending but its late at night and I was trying very hard to finish this before I fall asleep in my chair lol

Overall, I like how this one came out. its my first time writing for I.M, so I hope you liked it!

((Taglist Form))

12 Days of Christmas Tag: @multi-fandommaniac, @mbruben-stein

General Taglist: @charmsprout, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669,

@tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop,

@shymexican, @stillwjk-channie-lixie, @alexxavicry

[leeloooonfire]

Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington

Ok.

imagine: the nickname ‘the hair’ doesn’t originally come to exist because of the locks on his head, but because of all the body hair.

imagine: 12 or 13 year old Steve getting really hairy legs and arms, chest hair and even something like a beard with the start of puberty. He’s proud of it, because now he’s becoming a ‘real man’ (yeah, he’ll grow out of this toxic masculinity after a few smacks on in the head), but yeah - he loves it. Until he doesn’t anymore, because all his classmates are talking about his arms and legs and because teenager are shitty, his basketball team members call him stupid shit much worse than The Hair.

imagine: Steve feeling self-conscious about his body hair and starts to shave it all off, smooth like a baby. (And the girls like it, right?!) The nickname still sticks, because when he’s 15 and comes back after summer, the brown locks on his head are long and luscious and artfully styled. He takes what once was a petty insult and turns it into something people envy him for and that is so uniquely him.

imagine: 19 year old Steve, not really dating, working minimum wage and not really feeling like it, stops shaving his legs and arms and chest (not to mention that some girls told him they like the movie stars with some chest hair and stuff); and then spring 1986 hits.

imagine: Steve walking shirtless through the upside down, feeling kind of self-conscious about his hairy chest (with all of gremlins stupid jokes about his body hair as well) until he sees one particular person being unable to tear their eyes off him - Eddie.

imagine: Eddie, lil smalltown gay Eddie, seeing Steve’s hairy chest and thinking: ‘fuck hell yes, I wanna bury my face in it sooooo badly’, because Eddie likes his men tall, beefy and hairy.

imagine: summer 1986, Steve and Eddie hanging out and smoking by a lake 5 towns over (no bat in hell could drag them back to fucking lovers lake, man!) and Steve not taking off his shirt. At first, Eddie thinks is might be because of the bat bites, so he takes his shirt off to show Steve that it’s ok, that there shouldn’t be any shame. The scars are the visual evidence that they fought and survived.

somehow, when it’s late, Eddie manages to drag a Steve into the lake for a swim and it’s then, that Eddie finally realizes that it’s not and has never been about the scars, but because of the chest hair and hairy arms and legs. because Steve is trying to shy away from him, thinking Eddie won’t really find him attractive like that.

They (let’s be honest, they seem like those type of idiots who would wrestle until one of them gets a boner and puff-gay) play in the water, and Eddie gets all handsy and touchy with Steve, grabbing his chest with one hand until a Steve shies away, saying ‘oh god, stop touching the hair. It’s disgusting’

and Eddie being Eddie, says ‘disgusting?! What?! Your chest hair? Baby, I wanna hold on to it so bad while you fuck me real good, there’s nothing disgusting about your glorious hair.’

‘but, wait - what. You want me to what?’

‘Baby, come on, don’t you know how fucking hot you are like this?! All hero - like… Harrison Ford? No, more like Sean Connery in James Bond, yeah?! Just sooo hot.’

imagine: Eddie obviously get his wish - gets fucked real nice while he’s allowed to grab Steve The Hair Harrington chest.

[hermanunworthy]

writer anon from a couple months ago here… fuck man. it’s the day the music died.

(idk what this is and it’s not very good)

but when you go to meet god, you know, you wanna look nice

hermie’s had those dreams before, the kind where he can feel that his eyes are closed and he tries to open them while he’s asleep but he can’t. this is like that- except there’s no body attached to it. he feels out for… nothing. not even an ache over his heart, where the blood was just staining a moment ago. a year ago? he feels heavy. he’s not sure where he feels it. there’s no body anymore. there’s no him.

“well hello there, darling.” his father. he looks up. there’s no one here. scam’s voice is all around. “did you have fun?”

did you have fun? two years of high school theatre, that’s what it added up to, more or less, and then a few insane months with the teens. was it fun? he can’t remember now.

in this space, he sees it. it really was only two years. there was nothing before that. his memories of growing up are so two-dimensional, it feels like he could print them right out of his head and fold them up into a little paper person and be looking at his twin.

“it was just a joke, you know, all in good fun. oh, they’re wrapping it up now, story’s almost over. ‘that’s all, folks!’ and all that, you know. shame, we’ve only got so much time left.” scam didn’t sound sad. “I kept thinking your father would come after me at some point. it was good fun, messing with the king-of-hell demon-cop. pretty shitty guy, I gotta say.”

a scene materializes in front of hermie. a wooden stage, classic red curtains to frame it, and a styrofoam grave marker in the center. two actors bearing a comically-grotesque resemblance to his adoptive parents were badly stage-crying over it.

at the top, à-la-phantom of the opera, jodie peered down at the actors. he watched for a moment, then turned away to fix his attention on someone else.

did you have fun?

“I was wondering though. were you lying?”

hermie paused. “what?” his voice sounded strange.

“your last words to normal. he wasn’t conscious to hear them, you know. but were they genuine?” he could hear the rubber stretch of scam’s smile splitting far wider than a mouth should go. “did you mean it?”

“I can’t die,” hermie said slowly. “can I.”

“well, you weren’t exactly alive, so it’s hard for you to be dead.” scam sounded more distant now. “no place in heaven or hell for a puppet, just ask jigsaw.”

hermie’s jaw clenched. “I wasn’t a puppet. I wasn’t… anything.”

“right, so you get the point. I’m asking what you were teeing up for with that last line, hermie. obviously you won’t be around to deliver the payoff. were you just planning on ditching them without a punchline?”

“it’s what you did.”

“the ditch was the punchline, worthless, that’s the crux of the whole thing.” scam’s voice had taken on an edge. “I died once too. got shot off a dragon, actually. it was a lot like this.”

“was it?”

a pause. “I don’t remember.”

the curtains closed. somewhere, the sound of a gigantic clock started up, or maybe a metronome. “well, this has been fun, if ultimately unsatisfying, but I’m afraid this is where I must leave you. show’s over.”

“are you sure?”

“you’re the one who stopped dancing. oh.” scam was smiling again; he could hear it. “oh. I see it now, the prestige. you were the set-up for something truly… oh. wow. now this is a show.”

normal. hermie tried to take a deep breath. “what’s he doing?”

“making your whole life part of his own villain origin story. so sorry you aren’t around to see this, I know how you always liked the villains, but, well.”

“you can’t bring me back?” hermie clenched his fists. “you can’t do one thing for me, after…?”

scam scoffed. “oh, now he wants to live.”

crack! hermie was a five-year-old watching the big kids win the speedrun. crack! hermie was a cat in a garbage can being jumped by the pussywagon. crack! hermie was sitting in a car in hell, and normal was kissing his cheek. crack! hermie was a voice on the phone, hermie was saying “this is john.” crack! hermie was the dying papa john, hot cheese coursing through his veins. crack! hermie was dying, hermie was lying on the ground with blood spilling from his…

“your father and I were similar in one regard, actually. when our lives were threatened, when there was only one way to be free, we took it. we split, you could say, we…” scam hesitated. hermie thought about a demon and a highway patrol officer, a mustache and a fedora. “sometimes you get a card. sometimes you get a court order. but you always get a choice. you don’t get to be yourself. that’s what the world taught both of us. no matter your power, your influence, if the world doesn’t want you to be yourself, and you still want to live, well…”

he saw the joker, keira knightley, risky click, a whole parade of shifting faces flickering between his reflection and his performances. he heard his words to normal in goof’s realm- you don’t like me, you idiot.

“do you want to live? you never get to go back, you know, not to what you were. even if you’re able to reconcile the memories, once you’ve been something you never fully stop being it. and that saves you a little, the first you, but it’ll damn you just as surely.

“unless.” one giant eye in front of hermie. “was there anyone, hermie? anyone who wanted you to be yourself?”

what did he honestly believe, about what normal wanted?

he didn’t know if his last words were a lie. he didn’t know if his next ones would be either.

do you want to live?

IM SO SORRY FOR LEAVING U HANGING FOR A WHILE WRITER ANON IVE BEEN AT WORK BUT IM BACK. I WOULD SAY WE ARE SO BACK BUT NO ITS SO OAKWOVER. HERMAN UNWOVER.

I AM INSANE ABOUT THIS DO U UNDERSTAND HOW CRAZY THIS IS TO DROP IN MY INBOX. THIS IS SO WELL DONE IM GONNA EXPLODE THE FUCKING. AAUAUAUAGAHHHH

[khodorkovskaya]

13.03.23

yesterday was a very thought provoking day so i want to tell you guys about it! lots of stuff about growing up/coming of age, relationships, etc, all that good stuff!

so i went ice skating with my oxford/france bestie and my student as we do every sunday and it was so much fun! im getting more and more confident on the ice! and it was great, i love spending time with friends when we're doing something like an activity , like something with a purpose you know.

then we went to get hot chocolate as we always do and since my student's wife wasn't there, he spilled some tea! we started talking about relationships bc my london bestie was in town this weekend and her bf finally got his visa so he came to our town for the first time ever! it was his first time outside of the uk and his home country so we were all very excited! but anyway, we started talking about relationships bc to be completely honest with you, im not a fan of my bestie's bf, but i'll get to that in a sec. and my student said that he's only been in love 3 times in his life. when we asked him what about his wife, he said it's not really love as in romantic or sexual love, they're just really good companions. and... they've never had sex! which honestly kinda changes my perspective on their whole thing, but also not really. he said they've only ever done kink stuff together bc they're into latex and things like that. and since she's so much younger than him, he's never wanted to have sex with her. as he desciribed it, he's not a zizi kind of guy i.e. he's uninterested in sex in general. and yeah, ive always thought he was somewhere on the asexual spectrum and this confirmed it. anyway, that was a fun fact.

now back to my london bestie and her boyfriend, im not a fan of the guy frankly. he comes off as really uninteresting and they have this whole mother-son dynamic going on, i really don't get it. he's boring and unattractive and also probably asexual or maybe gay bc he's uninterested in sex with my bestie. so i was looking forward to seeing her and i was happy that her bf could finally come to our country, but i would've preferred it if i could talk to my bestie one-on-one without his company yknow? and then my bestie also messaged me saying that she invited another friend of ours to come hang out with us and again... i feel like such a bitch but the friend she invited is just... so uninteresting. the girl has no values and sure, she'll laugh at your jokes and talk about anything, but i can't stand her superficiality. every time i hang out with her i feel like im wasting my time.

so on my way to the bar i was already imagining all the dumb conversations we're gonna be having and how bored i was gonna be, already trying to make up excuses about how i could get myself out of this and go home and work instead of gargling air with two of the most uninteresting people i know. and i felt so shitty because i was supposed to be looking forward to seeing my bestie and i was supposed to be happy about her boyfriend's visa and i was supposed to be happy about seeing that other friend bc i haven't seen her in ages. but i was just dreading it so much oh my god. i don't know what it is. am i a bitch? am i pretencious and arrogant and do i think too highly of myself? i felt awful. and even my ed thoughts were coming up on my way there. i was like "ooo im skipping lunch today im gonna be so skinny yay". like wtf. i wanted to be happy about seeing my bestie but instead i felt guilty and just wanted to go home and work...

anyway, as anticipated, i was bored out of my mind... her boyfriend's attitude was pissing me off. i asked them what they've done these past two days, like what they've visited and what their plans were. and they said that they went to the old town, walked around the lake, ate at mcdonalds and drank wine. which is fine i guess but like... there's so much to do around here and so many things to see! you can have mcdonalds and wine in london and tbh the old town is not really worth visiting if you don't know anything about it, like it's just a couple of pretty houses, it's gonna be boring if you just walk around aimlessly. like idk if i had two days to show our city to someone who's never been, i would've done so much more idk. and then the bf was like "yeahhh this place is boring it's not for me" and when i asked him why, he said that it's because there are a lot of pubs in london and not a lot around here. like duh of course if your only priority is drinking ofc you're gonna be bored anywhere you go. idk that really annoyed me. plus they didn't even go out at night so he didn't even have a point of comparison. like sure, we don't really have pubs like as in english pubs, but we have a lot of cool bars and clubs and other fun night time activities. like i invited them to the disco on ice on saturday, which is sooo much more fun than drinking wine at home come on! but they said no! and our town is the boring one, all right!

then my bestie invited me over for dinner with her parents and her ukrainian friend. and as the night went on the more and more i kept realising that i don't have much in common with her anymore. and it was so heartbreaking bc we grew up together. we had so many integral life moments together but now it seems that they weren't so integral after all. and it sucks because no one else is gonna know what i was like growing up and it feels like such an important part of me. she's the only one who's seen this part of me and yet it has no importance anymore because we barely have anything in common now.

idk it sucks and there's not much to say. we have different lives, different views, different priorities... and i really felt like the odd one out because at the dinner table everyone was kinda on the same page (except for the parents bc they're getting divorced lol but that's another story). at one point bestie's mum asked me where i was at with my studies. she asked me if i still give language lessons and do catsitting and i was like not really. i have one student who's become a friend now and for the cats thing, if my neighbour asks me ofc im gonna help out. but im not actively looking for these kind of jobs like i did in highschool because duhh im an adult now and im working. and then the mum was like "yeah, you should stop doing that. let's find you a real job" and it really like... upset me. because what about our business? no one seemed to care or ask me any questions about it. "where's you shop again?", "you sell clothes???" like guyssss this has been my family's life for years now! and im pretty vocal about what we've been doing and the project we're working on. and yet no one cares. i don't know, it made me really upset. as if everything we've been working on is not serious. as if getting a "real job" is the only thing that matters.

i don't know, i feel like there's a lot to say but there isn't much to say... it's just that me and my bestie have grown apart. and it hurts. it hurts that i can't relate to her anymore. and i don't understand her lifestyle or her opinions or her way of viewing the world. no, i do understand. but it's so unlike me. we don't value the same things. and it sucks.

and then the ukrainian girl was talking about how she went to dubai and how it's the place to be and how she's looking for a husband. and again, i just cannot relate. and felt so left out. like i don't know, ive gone through so much these past couple of months and it's incredible. but i can't share it with anyone because no one cares. everyone has different priorities... my bestie has an office job she's comfortable at, her boyfriend complains about life and wants to move to canada to find himself, bestie's mum is leaving her husband to go live with her lover and worries about how because of the war in ukraine her job's been intense, the ukrainian girl is trying to find a husband in dubai meanwhile her hometown has been destroyed. and i... well.... i can't even explain it.

i suddenly felt really scared of being alone for the rest of my life. i remembered coming home to B and feeling like i had my person. it felt nice imagining that i was not alone because i had him. but ive always felt lonely with him. but coming home and cuddling with him was nice. im scared that i'll never find my person, someone who can see and understand me, all of me. for now the only people i can relate to are "weirdos" like my student and my oxford/france bestie. they're so much fun! but is this how it's supposed to be? how do i fit in with normal people? how do i become normal?

anyway, i walked home and cried and felt very alone.

and then i had a dream about B and how i came home and he wasn't there so i called him and said "i can't do this anymore, it's either me or [his business name]". i woke up feeling satisfied that i had finally said it. but it's too late now, our relationship can't be repaired. and i can't set any ultimatums anymore and make him choose, because i chose to leave. and he chose himself. and im gonna be alone.

[lukascreamsintothevoid]

Blooming Panic High School Teacher Edition

So... Bloomic, but teachers, you know?

Bloombot- Superintendent- works in the shadows, isn’t often seen but keeps things running. Lays down the rules. BUT SHE’S A GOOD SUPERINTENDENT, NOT A SHITTY ONE THAT MAKES HER EMPLOYEES MISERABLE.

Salocin- Principal whose been teaching for years and is beloved by all students and staff. He was formerly a science teacher before moving into admin. He never really wanted to be principal, but he saw the need for someone who could actually connect with staff and students, so he stepped up like the God he is.

Hypebot- the weird ass janitor that everyone knows and everyone loves. You’re not quite sure if he’s actually doing his job at any point, but he’s got a mop and a broom and he pushes them in the cart, and the rooms and halls are always clean, so he must be doing something right. But whenever you see him, he always seems to be doing something just a little absurd and you're not really sure how it relates to his job, but oh well.

June- English/creative writing- June is the English teacher who gets really excited about the stuff she teaches. If she loves the work, she’s so excited and gets all the kids excited. If she hates the work or the author, the class becomes a roast-fest, and the kids are still engaged because watching Ms. June insult dead authors is hilarious. Her creative writing kids would fight someone for her without a second thought.

Onion- Math- Everyone agrees that he’s smart. Really smart. When there’s a quiz in his class, every student panics and starts studying in all of their classes. They will have their History books open, and stuffed inside will be worksheets to help them practice the problems during class. The kids love him as a person. He’s grumpy, but not in a mean way, so kids like to stop by before and after school and say hi and just pester him. But when he starts teaching, most students can’t stand him, just because the class is tough. Most of them pass, though, unless they just refuse to do the work, and most kids will begrudgingly admit that he’s the main reason they passed the math section of the ACT/SAT. He also definitely sponsors the chess club.

Lady- Science- She has class pets that everyone adores. She’s also not afraid to tease the kids if they're doing something dumb. Not if their not doing well in class or anything like that and they’re actually trying, but if a kid is trying to make a basket with some wadded-up trash and misses, she’ll boo and tell him to take another shot. Or if a kid is goofing off in class and throwing pencils in the ceiling rather than paying attention, she’ll banter with them before asking them to stop. Usually gets a pretty good response too. She gets deadly serious when they’re doing a lab. If you’re fucking around while they're dealing with ACTUAL FIRE AND CHEMICALS, you can bet your ass you're out of that class until she can talk with you.

Quest- History- This man as a history teacher would be the death of me. He’s got a really calm voice, so kids listen and settle down in his room. He makes the terrible parts of history seem less scary, and if things are getting a little bleak, he breaks the tension with a silly joke. But he also doesn’t sugarcoat things. If the textbook gets something wrong, or if there’s something in it that historians debate, He’ll stop and discuss why it’s incorrect and give the kids the right information. He opens his class up during some lunches to give the kids who don’t want to be in the lunchroom a safe place. He also always has snacks. If you’re hungry, he’ll open a drawer and just toss you some crackers. I’m just in love with the idea of Quest managing to reach the kids who were a lot like him growing up. He just feels like maybe he can make a difference in one kid's life; maybe he can stop them from making the same mistakes he did.

Toaster- Desktop Publish/ Technology- He’s definitely kinda awkward around the kids, but they warm up to him really fast and he has no idea why. But all the kids love his computer classes. They break down every step when working with the kids, and lets them work on more creative projects than what the book suggests. Another really calming presence for the kids. They're also who all the teachers send the kids to if their Chromebooks stop working. He’s got a magic touch with them, but he swears all he does is tell them to turn it off and back on again. His afterschool programming club is super lively, and definitely has won a lot of awards

Two2- music- It’s two2. They’re just really scattered, all the time. He’s definitely the teacher you find just sprinting down the hallway because he’s five minutes late to class because the sightreading worksheets he prepared jammed up the printer. They walk in, and the kids all chant “If you’d been gone 3 more minutes, legally we could have left.” He laughs it off, but the rest of the class is a little off-kilter for the rest of the day because they’re still flustered. It’s always chaotic, it's always a little messy, and the kids make fun of them, but if they’re gone for any reason, all the music kids are in a bit of a funk for the whole day.

XYX- Gym- GIVE THIS MAN A FUCKING DODGEBALL. He’s always got crazy shit for the kids to do during gym; sometimes it’s basketball, but you can only make a basket from a certain spot on the floor, other times its races and the winner gets to pick what they do the next day. Dodgeball tournaments are insane, the talk of the school. Don’t expect to do anything but review in class when Xyx plans one, because the kids are going to focus on nothing else. But he always finds ways to make sure that the less athletic kids don’t feel terrible in his class. Sometimes he’ll put himself on a particularly unathletic team and watch the other team scatter in fear of him. Sometimes he’ll tweak the rules, but in fun, stupid ways that leave everyone talking and excited about it. He plans the games for school assemblies, and he always has fun picking out the most embarrassing game for the teachers to compete in because he knows the kids get riled up seeing their teachers do something stupid. 

Nightowl- Art- He’s the teacher that sits on the desks. He’ll sit anywhere in the classroom that isn’t a chair. And kids agree that of all the teachers, he’s the one who dresses the least like a teacher. It’s always professional, but there’s a sort of casualness to his outfits that the kids like. On opposite day during spirit week, kids tend to dress like and act like him. He’s also the one that all the other teachers go to if there’s some kind of fad that’s caught on with the kids and no one knows what it’s about. All the crew likes to think that they are the cool teacher, but Nightowl is the undisputed cool teacher to the kids. Also, this works, because people joke about English and Math teachers not getting along, but I have never seen an art teacher who does not have beef with the math teachers. The kids absolutely feed into the drama between Owl and Onion, and they think it’s hilarious. He's also the teacher that said "fuck" in front of the kids one morning when he was still really tired, then looked them all in the eye and told them that if they said a word, he'd fail them all. The whole school was joking about it by lunch, and no one failed the class.

[jvblood]

the bathroom

pairing: argyle x afab!reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: heading to your first college party sounded fun at first, it wasn't until you saw Argyle. that's when you knew the real fun was about to begin.

WARNINGS: SMUT, marijuana use, high sex

a/n: guess who finally has a free day to finish writing this up and posting : DD this might flop because--you know reasons.

To understand your situation right now is absolutely crazy. Going to your first college party with your best friend–only for her to be swept away by some of her teammates and ignoring you for the rest of the night. Not really knowing where to go, you stand in the corner.

 Watching everyone interact, looking like they’re six years old again. It felt bittersweet. The loud music and the body heat was starting to get you irritated.

“Yo!” A familiar face calls for you. 

“Argyle?” You say, squirting your eyes in the dark. You knew Argyle in high school. The things that the two of you did while in high school could be a whole book in itself. What you didn’t know is that the two of you went to the same college. 

“Long time no see, dudette!” He cheers as he wraps his arms around. 

“Oh my god–it’s refreshing to see a familiar face.” You say as a breath of relief leaves your lungs. You pull away from the hug and take a good look at him. 

He’s still the same except you could tell he’s been shaving recently. He dawned on his colorful prints that he had since highschool. You and him were inseparable when it came to that shitty place back in Lenora. Yet even the shittiest places caused the best memories, especially with him.

“You know, I got some dope on me, we could hit it off like last time.” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to hit his implications. “If you know what I mean.” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Usually when getting high with Argyle, it always ends with you and him in a bed together. Sophomore year in high school was when all of the conflicted feelings and the growing happened for the two of you to end up how you are today. In the bathroom, lighting a blunt, with Argyle at your first official college party. What fun.

Argyle, with the join in between his two fingers, nudges the blunt towards you. Silently asking if you’d like to hit first. 

“Oh fuck yeah.” You groan out as you grab the blunt from him. You put it in between your lips and began to look for a light. Argyle, who's already three steps ahead of you, pulls him out and flicks the light on. You expect him to just hand the lighter but instead he leans in and lights the end of the blunt. You take the initiative and inhale. The smoke hitting the back of your throat so quickly, you could’ve started coughing. Well, when you’ve smoked as much as you and Argyle have, the first was calm. 

As you take the blunt that lays on your lips into your hand, resting, you hold the smoke in your lungs. You look at him, squinting your eyes as you hand him the blunt. He takes it from you as you finally exhale the smoke. He brings the blunt to his lips and inhales. He could feel the smoke enter his lungs as he kept on inhaling. 

“Holy shit.” With the way Argyle was smoking, it seemed as if he was trying to forget the week. “Take it easy babe, it’s only like 10:30.” You joke as he finally hands you the blunt. He holds the smoke in his lungs, not letting smoke escape his breath any time soon. The two of you took hit after hit, letting yourself loose in the bathroom. People entering to use the restroom were either ‘I don’t care–I gotta go’ or ‘welp, there’s always outside’. That didn’t stop the two of you. You and Argyle would strike up a conversation with whoever decided to test their luck in the bathroom. 

You feel light. The blunt that the two of you shared lays on the counter propped up, waiting for the next hit. Your mind wanders all over the place. You try to look at yourself in the mirror yet it feels weird. It feels like you were looking at someone else in the mirror, yet you knew it was you.

“Oh god, I am fucked up.” Argyle says as he’s looking at himself.

“Tell me about it.” Your eyes felt like they were crossing yet they were still. You make eye contact with Argyle through the mirror, watching what his next move is.

“You know what happens next, right?” Argyle warns. 

The thing about you two is that once the both of you get high together, it seems as if self-control goes out the window. Before you could even think about what to say, you practically threw yourself onto him. On your toes to meet him on the lips. Kissing him hungrily. 

You slowly climb on the sink, allowing him to get comfortable in between your legs. Your fingers laced with his hair by his roots, tugging lightly on it to get a grip. 

He whispers, “Fuck,” as he pulls away from your lips, a trail of saliva from either one of your mouths is stuck to his lips “You sure you want this?” He asks. 

“Argyle, I kissed you first. Are you sure you want this?”

Argyle, not giving you a verbal answer, headed straight for your neck. Kiss it softly at first before licking it up and down. You tilt your head to give him more room for him to play with your neck. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes are squeezed shut. 

You moan out his name, hoping he could take the hint and go lower. Thankfully he didn’t because the bathroom door swung open. 

“Dude!” Argyle yells out at the party goer. The person shyly walked away, apologizing. Once they left, Argyle went straight for the door and locked it. Giving privacy for the two of you. 

As he turns around and faces you, he sees a smile etched onto your face. Your face cramps at how you’ve been smiling so hard. Argyle, having his back still towards you, locked the door before finally seeing you. You–perched so beautifully on the bathroom counters. Your smile never faded once he turned around.

“What?” He asks.

“Come over here and fuck me.” Argyle, with no hesitation, put his hair into a bun before coming back to kiss you.

His hands on your waist as he settles in between your legs, lips not wanting to leave yours. Your arms rest on his shoulders, weaving your fingers into his hair. 

Slowly, he kisses along your jaw. His hands move up and down your waist, touching you gingerly. Your legs wrap around him instantly as he moves along your body. He finally gained the courage 

He lowers his head, lips attached to your neck. As you sit upon the bathroom counter, Argyle lowers himself onto his knees. His hands are still touching you wherever he can. As he sits on his knees, he looks up at you, waiting for your next move. His eyes were blown ready for more. You take this hint and begin to unbutton your pants, tugging at them quickly so they can get off of you. 

He tries to help take them off once they reach around your knees, and there you are waiting for him as he tosses the pants to the side. Argyle could feel himself drool. His salivating, something he thought he couldn’t do. 

“May I?” He asks as he places your legs on his shoulders. You curse at the sight of him, his hair in a bun, your legs on top of his shoulder and his hand slowly into your panties to let him get to his main goal: your pussy. 

You nod silently, letting him pull your panties to the side and see your cunt. When he pushed the clothing to the side, his eyes were stuck to your clit like glue on a piece of paper. He quickly makes use of his mouth and puts it onto your clit. Before he puts his tongue onto it, he spits on it. You yelped when you felt the spit make contact, but moaned when you felt it drip. 

Before the spit started dripping, he began licking lightly on your clit. Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes shut when he made contact.

 “Ari.” you moan. 

“Yes?” He teasingly asks. He moves his head away from your heat. 

“Don’t even start.” You say. 

“Start what?” This was getting infuriating. 

“Argyle.” “Say it and I’ll stop.”

“God,” you roll your eyes at his attempt to tease “Argyle.”

“Beg.” He began to draw circles on your clit, slowly. 

“Fuck—fine,” you say, gripping the counter, “please.”

And as if on cue, Argyle hungirly laps up your cunt. His tongue licks you, from your clit and down–making sure to get everything nice and wet for him. You toss your head back, making contact with the mirror. He holds your legs, parting them so he could have more freedom when eating you out. 

From your peripheral, you could see the unlit blunt waiting for the next lucky person. It just so happened to be you. You pick it up and find the light, then you hit it once. As you inhale the smoke, letting it travel through you, breathing it in, you can feel Argyle slip a finger in. As you moan out, the smoke leaves your mouth. Argyle watches as the smoke exits and your head tilts back. You could feel yourself drip as he arches his finger inside you. “Fuck–” Argyle breaks the ‘silence’ between you two, “god, you’re so pretty.” His lips attach to your clit as he slips in another finger effortlessly. 

You could feel the familiar coil beginning to curl. Argyle can feel that you're close as well. Your walls began to clench onto his fingers as he curled them inside. As he continued using his fingers and mouth on you, you were finally reaching that ecstasy you were dreaming of. Argyle harshly sucks on your clit and finally you were able to release all of the tension that was building up. 

As you were coming down from your high, Argyle was soaked–face and down. His eyes were shut, just in case he got some in his eyes, mouth open, and shirt drenched. 

“Fuck.” He moans out. He wipes his face down, and locks eyes with you. Argyle smirks up at you while you cover your face. “That was hot.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” He comes up from off of the floor to kiss you on the forehead “you’ll be doing it more often tonight.” 

[cello-trash]

Some autistic Jack head canons I’ve been thinking about regarding Jacks acceptance of his autism

Bob and Alicia knew he was autistic from a very young age but don’t tell him out of a misplaced thought that he’ll be better off not knowing and that he could be “more normal” that way

They esp don’t want the press to find out bc god knows what headlines they’d write

so Jack grows up knowing he’s “different” bc of how other people treat him but not knowing why

He gets officially diagnosed right after his OD when he really starts going to therapy regularly but he feels like it’s just another thing that makes him “fucked up” so he tries to mask even harder

Jack is esp sensitive to noise and he can get overstimulated easily. This makes hockey games hard sometimes. Usually he’s so focused on the hockey he doesn’t even notice how loud the arena is, but sometimes his head buzzes and he gets so overwhelmed that afterwards he has to just lay in the dark not speaking or moving for hours after the game

When he’s home, Bitty lays on top of Jack like a weighted blanket which is one of jacks favorite things. Bitty will feed him finger food and have him drink water to make sure he’s physically fine while Jack is nonverbal

When it’s an away game Bitty gifts Jack Monsieur Bun and Jack runs his fingers over the little stuffed animal and it calms him down

Things get better for Jack when he stops thinking of autism as something that means he’s a fuck up

it’s actually bc of Bitty he realizes this. He sees just how much stim toys and accommodations help Bitty with ADHD but sees how ashamed Bitty is of using them and when he tries to convince Bitty to use them when he needs them Bitty raises an eyebrow and goes “I’ll do it if u also stop being ashamed Mr. Zimmermann” and Jack goes “…oh…”

Once Jack gets some stim toys he realizes that he’s actually been stimming his whole life to calm himself calm down when he’s overwhelmed: the way he’d rock back and forth on the bench, the way he’d chew on his mouth guard, the way he’d tap his thighs in repetitive patterns, etc.

As he starts to mask less he finds that sometimes he’ll verbally stim by reciting people’s hockey stats on the bench (he memorized the stats for most of the NHL when he was a kid but mostly these days it’s Bitty’s stats) or flap his hands around

When the press see him do this he doesn’t really respond and just stares at them blankly until they move on… he doesn’t really see how him being autistic is their business

That changes tho when some other NHL Player in their division starts campaigning for AutismSpeaks and all of a sudden Jack is checking this man really hard constantly and getting into little fights with him

Of course people notice and he gets asked about it at a press conference

And Jack goes “well he’s either an uninformed idiot who should look into the orgs he works with before he does or he’s a piece of shit who represents a piece of shit organization” and he goes on this rant about all the shitty things AutismSpeaks has done/advocated for

And when the press asks him why he knows so much about it he goes “bc I’m fucking autistic. Y’all always called me a hockey robot with no emotions I’m surprised it took you this long to figure it out.” And then he walks out of the press room

Bitty gives him the biggest hug and kisses afterwards and makes Jack his favorite pie (but not before they have hot sex)

Shitty calls him the next day and is like “bro I’m so sorry I called u a robot and made fun of u bro that was so ableist of me bro”

And Jack rolls his eyes and says “when the press called me an emotionless robot it always struck a nerve but with u it was always fond… u always stayed behind to explain jokes I didn’t get or play with my hair or whatever. U had my back and it was a joke… plus how do u know that I’m not actually a robot beep beep boop boop

Jack becomes an advocate for autism while he’s playing and then once he retires he does lots of fundraising and such

At first Bob and Alicia don’t get why he would want everyone to know that he’s autistic but after a serious talk with Jack they understand that they were thinking about it the wrong way. They were never malicious but they raised Jack during the peak of the “vaccine autism scare” and so subconsciously thought of autism as a curse

Jack jokes that thank god they didn’t actually understand that autism wasn’t a bad thing bc then they might have become Autism Parents tm and they’d have shitty puzzle piece tattoos

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."

[the7thcrow]

600 degrees

~

pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

summary: you can’t cook. like, really can’t cook. good thing your cute neighbour is here to help clean up the mess.

word count: 5.1k

genre: neighbours au. strangers to lovers. the fluffiest of fluff, slightly suggestive.

warnings: a make-out session, bad humour, minho being a twat of a roommate, and tooth-rotting fluff.

rating: 14+

a/n: hi guys! hope you enjoy this one, it’s so much more wholesome and fluffy than what i usually write, but I'm pretty happy about it. don’t by shy to send me an ask or leave a comment. anything you have to say, I would love to hear. :)

...

..

.

“Fine. Since you won’t come, at least enlighten me on how you plan to keep yourself busy?” Minho asks, casually leaning against your kitchen island. He stares at you, with that familiar condescending smirk you’ve seen far too many times.

“I don’t know,” you state, rolling your eyes. Rising to your feet, you head over to your shared refrigerator, pulling a bottle of Sangria out of the fridge. “But I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“You know, if you want to drink, you could at least do it at the party.” Minho approaches you from behind, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “It’s a lot less sad that way.”

You slap his hand away, letting out a frustrated groan at the laughter he lets out from his own joke. “I get out plenty, quit acting like I’m some lonely cat lady,” you say, grabbing your favourite wine glass from the cupboard. “I like parties, I just don’t like Jisung’s parties. They always get way out of hand.”

“But Y/N,” Minho wines, picking up your freshly poured glass and taking a sip, earning himself a glare. “I never said you were a cat lady, just the lonely part.”

At that you snatch the glass away from his hands. Not wanting to deal with this torment any longer, you walk back to your comfortable, worn-in spot on the couch.

“You know I’m right,” he says, continuing despite the fact you begin to turn up the volume of the television. “And the only way you’re going to change that is by accompanying me to Jisung’s loud, out of hand parties.”

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows. “Somehow, I doubt my soulmate associates himself with Han Jisung.”

“Well that can’t be right, because I associate myself with Han Jisung?”

“Shut up, Minho.”

Your roommate snickers to himself as he opens the fridge, taking a quick glance at everything - or for a better term, lack of anything - inside. “What are you even going to eat? There’s nothing leftover from last night.”

“I’ll make something,” you say. Frankly, you had expected the outburst of laughter, but that didn’t do anything to simmer down your growing annoyance.

“Make something?” Minho laughs, giving you an incredulous stare. “Y/N, I’ve lived with you for two years and I don’t think I’ve seen you cook anything once.”

“Hey, I can cook,” you return, wrinkling your nose. “But why would I, when I have you to do it for me?”

At this, it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I take that back. I don’t want you to come, have fun curling up on the couch alone with your three cats.”

“They’re literally yours.”

“Whatever,” he says, opening your front door. “Just don’t burn the apartment down, alright?”

As he closes the door, you flip him off. At first, you aren’t sure if he saw, but you’re given your answer as his laughter echoes down the hallway, fading as he walks further away.

You scowl. Of course you can cook. Well, at the very least, well enough to make a meal for one on a saturday night. Minho didn’t know what he was talking about.

Minho. Your best friend and roommate for the last two years. Man, does the guy have a way of pushing your buttons. You love him, of course. In the weird, bickering, just short of volatile friendship sort of way the two of you had developed.

Still, you can’t deny that even with his painfully irritable nature, he is still a good friend. No matter how many times you say no, he always offers to take you anywhere he goes. He pushes you out of your comfort zone. He’s there to console you when a date goes bad, or you failed a test you studied hard for. He makes all his meals for two, just because he doesn’t want you to live solely off shitty take-out.

He’s your rock. Your platonic other half. Your closest companion.

Which means you are going to prove him wrong, and then rub it in his face as much as you possibly can. Of course, because that’s what friends are for.

~~~~

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Or, at the very least, it was going to be exceedingly more difficult now that your apartment was full of smoke.

Covering your nose with one hand, you take the tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. If you can even call them that, as they now held a far closer resemblance to that of hockey pucks. Both in looks, and what you could assume in taste, as well.

Okay, you know chocolate chip cookies don’t really count as a decent meal, but they are the only thing you remember how to cook from when you lived at home. Or maybe you didn’t remember, based on the tray of failure sitting in front of you.

Then, to make matters even worse, your fire alarm starts going off.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Now you are going to have to go to the front desk, let them know everything is okay.

Maybe Minho was right, you should’ve just went to Jisung’s stupid party and eaten something there. Putting all the other painful aspects of Han’s parties aside, Felix was his roommate, so the horderves were always excellent.

They were better than your hockey puck cookies, anyway.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open your apartment door, prepared to get a rough scolding from the lady working the front desk. However, you are surprised to find a man standing in front of you, his hand in the air, as if he were about to knock.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly putting his hand back down at his side. He has messy platinum blonde hair, and soft eyes. He’s cute, and the realization quickly makes you recognize him.

“You’re my neighbor,” you say, pointing a finger at him. It’s not until he doesn’t respond immediately that you realize it was a strange thing to say. Obviously, he knows he’s your neighbor, and he might be a little offended you didn’t recognize him immediately.

Then again, the two of you had never really talked before. Everytime you would pass each other in the hall, he’d always give a polite nod and continue walking. Sometimes you’d try to say hello, or start a small conversation, but he always disappeared quickly. It had gotten to the point where you assumed he had some strange, unwarranted grudge against you.

So, it was safe to say that you were more than just a little surprised to find him at your door.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Are you okay? I thought I smelt something burning, and then I heard the fire alarm go off.” He asks, peeking behind you into your apartment, seeing if he can catch sight of any flames.

Instead, his eyes land on your tray of butchered cookies, and he… smirks?

“Oh,” he says, attempting to hide the smile growing on his face. “Having some cooking trouble?”

You stare at him for a moment, watching as his lips pursed together, stifling a chuckle. “Are you...” you begin, your jaw dropping slightly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he looks down at you, finally letting his grin free. “I would never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you frown, already not enjoying that sarcastic look on his face. You thought you’d be able to avoid that humiliating look considering Minho wasn’t here, but apparently not.

 “As you can see, it’s nothing. So if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, attempting to move past him. “I need to go get my neck rung by the lady at the front desk,” However, he doesn’t budge from his place in your door frame. You cast him a glare, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll go let her know,” he says, already turning to walk down the hall. You open your mouth to object, but he casts a glance over his shoulder, snickering. “You focus on cleaning up whatever those black lumps were supposed to be.”

You stand in your doorway, dumbfounded as your neighbor disappears down the complex staircase. Who did this guy think he was, openly laughing at your current predicament? Sure, if the roles were reversed, there’s no doubt that you would do the same. But that isn’t the point.

No. The point is that you are not impressed by the audacity of this stranger, and you are going to make sure that this distaste is known.

Grumbling to yourself, you dump the still smoking cookies in the trash can. It’s a shame, really. You’d thought you were doing so well, too. You thought this would be your chance to prove Minho wrong. Minho. Oh, he would be having an absolute hay day if he were here right now, and the thought only makes your scowl deepen.

“Well,” your neighbor calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He reappears in the open door frame, sticking his neck inside, but not fully crossing the threshold into your apartment. “She’s not thrilled, but the alarm didn’t trigger the main system’s sprinklers, so you’re good.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

The man smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you trying to make anyway?”

An embarrassed blush casts itself over your cheeks. “Chocolate chip cookies,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

He lets out a burst of laughter, smiling widely. You can’t help but notice that he had a cute smile, dimples on both of his cheeks, eyes crinkled. Not that you were looking. Not that you cared, obviously.

“How’d you manage to mess up chocolate chip cookies that badly?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “You tell me.” You gesture towards the oven. Your neighbor smirks, walking inside your apartment. He bends down in front of your oven, before taking a look inside.

“Well, nothing seems to be wrong in there…” he starts, before glancing up at the set temperature. “Oh,” he states, before looking back at you, his eyes full of pity. “Oh boy.”

“What?” You ask defensively.

“The temperature. You forgot to convert it from celsius to fahrenheit. See?” He says, leaning away from the oven to give you a closer look. “So you thought you were cooking them at 350 degrees fahrenheit, when in reality they were at over 600 degrees.”

“Oh my god,” you say, smacking your palm against your forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know,” the guy shrugs. “You could have burnt your apartment down, so I’d consider it a win. You’re lucky I got here on time.”

You cast him a scowl, although you can’t seem to relinquish the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. You know damn well you wouldn’t have started a fire, and that the man showing up really didn’t stop anything but an uncomfortable conversation with the front lady. You are also sure that he is fully aware of this too, which makes your smirk grow wider. Alright, you’ll play along.

“Right, what ever would I do without you?” you say sarcastically, causing your neighbor to playfully roll his eyes. He leans against your kitchen counter, relaxing slightly.

“Does my saviour have a name?” You ask, opening the fridge to take a look at what’s inside. You feel your stomach rumble, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was already past 9:00.

“It’s Chris,” he smiles, leaning over your shoulder. “So what are you going to eat, now that you’ve successfully butchered the easiest recipe known to man?”

“Hey!” You snipe. “That is certainly not the easiest recipe known to man.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris says, putting his hands up in defense. “Maybe not the easiest, but it’s definitely up there. But putting that aside, what are you going to eat? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge so empty.”

You want to quip back at him, but he’s right. Minho usually does the grocery shopping, but because of Jisung’s party tonight he wasn’t planning on cooking anything.

“Good question,” you sigh, closing the refrigerator door before leaning your back against it. “Maybe I’ll just order some take out. I don’t think my pride can handle another failure.”

Chris smiles. “Or, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes glinting. He heads over to your apartment door, and for a moment you worry that he’s leaving.

No, you’re not worried. You’re curious. That’s all. You were curious whether or not he was leaving, nothing more.

When Chris returns, he has his arms full of ingredients. Spinach, penne, tomato sauce, cream, a variety of spices. The list goes on, and he stumbles slightly, almost dropping the surplus of food onto your kitchen floor. Imagining the mess, you rush over to help him, placing the load of groceries onto the counter.

“I don’t know if you couldn’t tell before,” you say, motioning to your overflowing counter. “But I really can’t cook. I have no clue what to do with any of this.”

“That’s no problem,” Chris smiles, already separating the food into different groups. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, no. I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, waving your hands in protest. You step in front of him, squeezing yourself between his chest and the kitchen counter, preventing him from reaching any of the ingredients. “You’ve already dealt with the desk lady for me, and brought over all these groceries. You’ve done more than enough.”

He smiles, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and effortlessly moving you to the side. “Why would I bring you these groceries if I knew you couldn’t do anything with them?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let me help you.”

You sigh in defeat, ignoring the way your heart begins to beat faster in your chest. “Alright,” you say, grabbing Minho’s cutting board from the cupboard. “Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~

An hour later, you find yourself sitting on top of your kitchen counter, Chris stationed by the stove working on the pasta sauce. You had genuinely tried to help in the beginning, you really did. But after Chris criticized your (awful) cutting technique, and said he didn’t exactly trust you to do anything else, you gave up.

Besides, you don’t have a problem watching him work. Over the last hour, you’ve come to learn that Chris is an absolute whiz in the kitchen. Moving from place to place, adding spices by intuition and nothing more. This wasn’t something you could have managed to make yourself in a million years, and it’s obvious that if you tried to assist him right now, you’d only get in the way.

Of course, you’ve learned a lot more about Chris in the last hour than just that. Where he grew up, his hobbies, what he was currently studying at the university. Music theory, as you’d learned. As cool as it sounded, Han had managed to tarnish your image of music majors, but you suppose you could give Chris a chance.

“It’s almost done,” Chris says, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” you reply, leaping off the counter to stand beside him.

“What, no ‘thank you, Chris?’ No, ‘what ever would I have done without you, Chris?’” He mocks offence, placing a hand on his heart.

“It’s not even done yet. I’ll thank you after I try it, I promise.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Ah, so you’re only thankful if you like it. I see how it is,” Chris says, crossing his arms in front of himself, pouting his lower lip slightly.

“Guess so,” you say, crossing your own arms mockingly. Chris smiles, those cute little dimples of his dancing across his cheeks.

Then you feel it, that little jump of your heart. The faintest skip of a beat that you’d familiarized yourself with over the last hour. That little hint of anticipation that makes you decide that you are, even if only slightly, a bit interested in Chris.

After all, he’s funny and sweet. Can carry a conversation well, and to understate it, undeniably easy on the eyes. That’s more than enough to give him a chance.

Most of all, however, you like that little flare between the two of you. The sarcasm, the banter. It doesn’t feel the same as when Minho does it, slightly condescending and done purely to harbour your annoyance. No, this is different. It is a challenge. He wants you to quip back, to push further. To make him smirk, or laugh, or roll his eyes.

“Alright, fine then,” he says, taking the large wooden spoon and scooping up some of the pasta sauce. “Tell me if this is up to par, your majesty.”

You aren’t sure if he wants you to take the spoon, or let him hold it for you as you take a bite. You decide to take the gamble, gently moving your lips around the spoon, tasting the sauce. You glance up at Chris, a small look of surprise on his face. However, you don’t miss the flash of something behind his eyes. The faintest hint of affection, interest.

The sauce itself is delicious. A perfect blend of tomato, basil and cream. You hum contently, giving him a thumbs up.

“Chris, this is amazing,” you praise, admiring the small blush that sprinkles his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing,” he says, diverting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck, shyly.

“No, seriously,” you say, taking the spoon from his hand and scooping some of the sauce up yourself. “Try it.” You hold the spoon out in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. Your gaze remains firm. A challenge.

Hesitantly, he takes the bite, not breaking eye contact as he does so. You stare at him, watching the way his lips move around the spoon, the intensity of his gaze. The action itself should be innocent, yet you feel a warmth rise to your cheeks.

Chris swallows, taking his lips off the spoon. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. The spark between you two being brought alight.

You swallow hard. “So?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, it’s good. Very good,” he says back, his voice low and raspy. He goes to take the spoon from you, and his hand lingers a moment, his thumb trailing the skin of your knuckles.

You feel yourself lean in slightly, fully prepared to take the leap, when suddenly he breaks away from you, eagerly taking a few steps back. He looks away, placing a hand on his face, as if he were ashamed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re seeing someone, we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry,” he babbles, completely turning away from you.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Seeing someone? Where the hell could he have possibly gotten that idea?

“Seeing someone?” You ask, incredulously voicing your thoughts. You grab him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Chris still refuses to meet your eyes, instead focusing intently on the wall behind you. “The guy that lives here- Minho - aren’t you two?”

“Minho?” You gape, contorting your face in a look of pure disgust. “Ew, gross! No! Believe me, I am not dating Minho, I’d genuinely rather stick this spoon in my eye,” you exclaim, lifting up the utensil.

At that Chris finally looks at you, wearing his own look of pure confusion. “Wait, really? But whenever I hear you guys out in the hall, the two of you are always so… flirty.”

“Flirty?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “If by flirty you mean he teases me literally every god damn second of every day, then yeah sure, I guess. But believe me, there is absolutely nothing romantic about that. Not in the least.”

Chris shakes his head, a smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Wow. I am such an idiot,” he sighs, a rediscovered lightness to his tone.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “Anyone could make that mistake, I guess. It’s really no big-”

“No, it’s not just that,” he cuts you off. “That’s why I’ve never talked to you before now.”

“You never talked to me because you thought that me and Minho were dating?” You ask, slightly confused. Even if you were dating, you didn’t see why that would stop him from starting a conversation with you. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighs, his cheeks reddening further. “I thought you were pretty, and based on the way you always quipped back at him, clever and funny as well. I don’t know, it just felt wrong to try and build a friendship with you, knowing how I already felt a little....”  

You smirk, drawing yourself slightly closer to him. “A little what?”

His smile transforms itself from embarrassed to a sly grin of his own. “A little into you, I guess.”

“It really is a shame,” you shrug, trying to hide the excitement building in your chest. “Because here I was, thinking my cute neighbor had some irrational grudge against me.”

Chris leans in, so the two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the strong fragrance of his cologne. Sharp with lemon zest and mint.

“We could always make up for lost time, you know,” he says, his eyes flashing with mischief.

That is all the invitation you need to break the space between the two of you. You press Chris’ lips against your own, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other along the line of his jaw. His lips are soft, you notice. Tender in the slow rhythm the two of you develop.

He runs his hands up along your figure. One of them finding itself locked in your hair, the other placed firmly on the curve of your lower back. Gently, he leads the two of you away from the stove, placing you so that your back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

You run your hand down along his chest, reveling in the groan he let’s out as your fingers trail down his lower abdomen. The sound is electricity pulsing through you, charging the room and igniting the atmosphere around the two of you.

His lips leave yours, trailing your jaw before making their way down your neck. Each individual kiss is slow and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You take a deep breath to stable yourself, and it does not go unnoticed.

Chris smirks, shifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out with desire. “You know, if we keep this up, the pasta sauce is going to burn,” he says, letting his fingers trail along your collarbone.

“Let it,” you shrug. “I wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Chris laughs at this, leaning forward so his face brushes the crook of your neck. “Yeah, right,” he says, allowing his lips to dust your skin. Suddenly, he bites down, not enough to break through the skin, but certainly enough to leave a small mark.  

You laugh, running your hands in his hair, half-heartedly pulling him off of your neck. “Hey! That hurt,” you exclaim, only half serious.

“Sorry,” he grins, before crashing his lips into yours once again. The pace between the two of you is much faster now, each kiss more passionate. More promising. Your desire rings through you, clouding your mind in a hazy fog of lust. It is dizzying, just how much you want him at this moment.

You're certain he feels the same way, given in how tightly he grips your thigh, his breath ragged every time you break apart. It is messy. Greedy. The two of you so deeply wanting more. More of each other.

You’re about to ask if he wants to move this to the bedroom, when suddenly the apartment door swings open. It’s almost comical, how quickly you and Chris break apart, springing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Minho calls as he walks inside, not yet glancing up from his phone screen. “Shit got out of hand. Someone managed to break the pool table, don’t even ask how, I don’t know either. Almost gave Felix an aneurysm. I swear the kid was about to cry, poor guy. Han had to shut everything down. So you really didn’t miss out on-” Minho stops as he sees Chris, a confused yet bemused expression crossing his face.

“Oh, hey Chan,” he says, causing you to give Chris a look.

“A nickname,” Chris mouths to you, as discreetly as he possibly can.

“What are you doing over here?” Minho asks him, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. He has that smug smirk on his face that makes you want to punch him.

“Oh, well…” Chris starts, casting you a glance. “Y/N made some food, and there was too much of it, so she invited me over.”

“Really?” Minho asks, caught off guard. He walks past you and Chris, staring at the pasta and sauce currently sitting on the oven burners. “You’re saying Y/N made this?”

“Well, yeah?” Chris says, feigning confusion. “Of course, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why?”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, looking at the expression of utter bewilderment on Minho’s face. Minho glances at you, narrowing his eyes, before sighing.

“Well then, I guess you proved me wrong on two things tonight, Y/N,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he begins to scoop some of the penne into his dish.

“Oh, you said there was a lot,” Minho responds, raising one eyebrow. “Can I not have some?”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you say, still slightly flustered by the abruptness of his entrance. Minho finishes filling his bowl and takes a seat at the kitchen island. As he begins to eat, the room is filled with a rather tense silence. You and Chris share an awkward look, unsure of what to do next.

Minho looks up from his dish, glancing between the two of you.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing his bowl and standing up from his chair. “I’m going to go eat this in my room. Have fun you two.”

Before you can say anything, Minho disappears around the corner, down the hallway leading to his room. You turn back towards Chris. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s a bit of a mood-killer, huh?” You say, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard, offering him one.

Chris nods in thanks as he takes the bowl from your hands. “Just a little bit,” he laughs, beginning to scoop some of the pasta into both of your dishes.

The two of you take a seat at your counter, spending the meal talking and laughing. Nothing else, the moment has passed, but that doesn’t bother you. You enjoy Chris’ presence. His quick humour and thoughtful conversation.

It really is something that you could get used to, you decide.

After you’re done eating, you walk Chris over to the door, handing him his surplus of spice bottles and leftover spinach.

“Thank you for doing all this, seriously. The food was delicious, you’re seriously gifted. And also, thank you for covering for me, I really didn’t feel like listening to Minho die laughing over the burnt cookies,” you admit.

“It’s no problem, really,” Chris smiles. He shifts all the spices over to his right arm, letting his free hand fall down to his side. Softly, he takes your hand in his, letting your fingers intertwine.

“Listen,” he continues, shyly looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, you’re welcome to come over for a proper dinner. You know, so I can show you what I can actually make when it’s not a last minute attempt at salvaging a meal.”

You smile a goofy, genuine grin. “That sounds good to me,” you say. Hesitantly, you lean forwards, planting a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

As you break apart, he hums contently. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, thanks for today. You made my night, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” You watch as he walks over to his apartment door, which is of course, only a few meters away from your own. When he disappears into his own apartment, you sigh, closing your own door behind you. You lean against the frame, letting out a shaky breath, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve held any genuine interest in someone, you feel almost giddy.

That is until you see Minho, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, watching you with his cheshire smirk.

“Dinner tomorrow, huh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and scooping himself the last of the pasta.

“What about it?” You retort, not giving in to that pestering look in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’ll be good, considering Chan clearly made this,” Minho says, shoveling some of the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

“Save it, the lady at the front desk told me you almost set the apartment on fire,” Minho laughs as you pour the wine.

You let out a groan, handing him his glass. “God dammit.”

“Don’t blame her though,” he smiles, leaning back and taking a sip. “I wouldn’t have believed you could have cooked that anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Had me fooled for a second there though,” he says, patting you on the head. “But more importantly, you like Chan huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Nice hickey, by the way,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

You pull up the collar of your shirt, casting him a glare. “Okay, maybe I do,” you shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he replies, before taking a second to think. “Just please don’t fuck him or anything tomorrow. Walls are thin.”

You laugh, taking your glass of wine and flopping yourself back down on the living room couch.

“Shut up, Minho.”

~

thanks for reading loves <3

[indianamoonshine]

Girl Talk | Din Djarin x Reader | Oneshot

Summary: What does a gal do when she’s just been railed by the most notorious bounty hunter in The Galaxy? Call her best friend of course.

A/N: Just something to tide you over until the next installment of Strawberry! I have anxiety and I need to busy my hands without thinking too much! This takes place after season 2!

There’s a crackling on the other end of the receiver. The telegraph service majorly bites out here on Besiana, which has been dubbed “the trench of The Galaxy”. Getting connected to Gabriele at all is a miracle in itself, though not without exploiting a few (somewhat) illegal hacks by yours truly.

Hells, not even this shitty phoning service can put you in a sour mood.

When Gabriele’s voice sounds at the other end, it gives the air that he’s just awoken from a heavy sleep or he’s suffering a hangover. Probably both. “Now what the hell are you doing all the way out in butt-fucking-nowh…” he starts.

You’re quick to cut him off. “Take a guess.”

Gabriele groans and there’s a rummaging in the background. Something sounds as though it falls off a surface - his alarm clock, probably. He must be in the inner rim somewhere.

“Miss girl, I don’t have time to play these games with you. My head is pounding. Now tell me why you’re in the catacombs of The Galaxy’s ass and…”

Behind you, a body shuffles from outside the refresher door. Your heart thuds rambunctiously in your chest as you carefully peer through a crack of the opening. Din Djarin - The Galaxy’s most notorious Mandalorian- is taking a seat with his rifle in hand. You watch as he begins to disassemble it with great technical precision. Something about watching him take apart his weapon causes your stomach to flutter.

And your knees to weaken.

“I just had sex,” you tell him in a whisper.

Gabriele is silent on the other end for a moment and then lets out a sigh of great disappointment. “Congratulations. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

“The best sex of my life.”

There’s another pause. “Oh?” His interest has piqued, voice more alert at the prospect of juicy gossip. After all, what were best friends for?

You let this linger in the air for a minute, just to marinate his curiosity, and then peek at Din again. He’s taking a rag and wiping the barrel of the rifle; if it weren’t for the helmet upon his head, you’d swear he was concentrating with furrowed and ascetic brow.

“Do you remember that Mandalorian who made a giant fuss a couple of years ago?” you inquire lowly, eyes unable to leave the steadiness of Din’s deft hands.

Those hands. You have to stop yourself from moaning at the recent memories. You swear you can still feel the ghostly sear they left in their wake. The naked skin upon your hips tingles at the sheer recollection, the slick still upon your thighs all-too prevalent.

“You’re lying,” is what Gabriele gasps, absolutely scandalized. You imagine him shooting up in bed and covering his mouth in awe. He was always so dramatic but you couldn’t blame him if he did. This was the exact reaction you were hoping for.

Din grabs another piece of his rifle and starts up again. You have to tear yourself away from looking at him and instead surmise yourself in the mirror. It isn’t very big in any sense of the word but it’ll do. You take a look at your face (blushed and bright) and then your eyes (dazed and dick-drunk). Hells, this man has ruined you.

“I know you have questions,” you reply, tapping at your cheeks. They feel softer somehow.

Gabriele squeaks a bit under his breath. “Did he take off his helmet?”

You shake your head, though he can’t see it. “No. And I think it awoken something in me.”

He tsks. “Damn. I wanna know what he looks like. Okay…”

“I know he’s a brunette,” you say slyly.

Gabriele shrieks at the other end and you have to angle the receiver away with a laugh. “Is it big?”

You recall the tactical consideration- albeit brief - it took to get his dick in your mouth. You did it though, ‘ole girl. You tap yourself on the shoulder with a proud grin.

“Oh, it is. It’s…it’s very nice.”

You find yourself looking out the door again. Din’s moved onto another gun - he’s already put together the last. You grow weary at the sight of his gloved hands alone, but when your eyes trail downwards you find yourself swallowing something thick in your throat. Which in turn, of course, reminds you of the tanginess still lingering upon your tongue.

“Gabriele,” you say seriously, voice so low you can barely hear yourself. “I came eight times.”

“Shut up. You did not.” Gabriele sounds more than just excited - now he sounds jealous. You can’t help but giggle.

You raise a hand to your chest in a show of honesty. “I mean it. Eight times. He went down on me for an hour.”

“I thought you said he didn’t take off his helmet?” Gabriele asks suspiciously.

You chuckle lowly. “Oh, that’s where it gets really good.”

Gabriele - one of the biggest sluts in The goddamned Galaxy - was no stranger to sex. So when you tell him that you were blindfolded during this portion of an absolute wild ride, you’re shocked to find him screeching once more.

You’re about to continue - to confide in him about the brutal rhythm of the ordeal - until a knock startles you. You press the receiver against your chest, still flushed and naked from the previous romp.

Din calls your name from the other side of the door. “Are you alright?”

You freeze, contemplating on everything you could say to this most bland of questions. “I’ll be out in a moment!” you decide, scolding yourself for being so timid. You were at the end of his dick a half-hour ago.

Din mumbles something and then departs. After he’s within a safe distance, you quickly raise the receiver and say, “I have to go. But I’ll tell you everything later.”

Gabriele gawks, “Was that him?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes. Now I really have to go.”

“Oh my gods, okay. Fine.”

You smile, clutching at the durasteel of the phone. “Promise. Love you.”

Your best friend sighs theatrically. “Love you too. Be safe, okay? I don’t even know who I’d call to go after him if something happened to you. No one would be stupid enough.”

The idea of Din doing anything to put you in harm’s way is inconceivable. You’ve only known him for a short amount of time - a couple of weeks at most - but you already trust him with your life.

“I’d die a happy woman,” you joke.

A short while later, you exit the refresher with sopping, clean hair and any traces of sex scrubbed away from between your legs. Din’s allowed you to wear one of his night shirts (an honor in itself) because your clothes had been soiled.

Din is placing his rifle upon its rack when you sneak by for the kitchen. You pour yourself a cup of Java - black, unfortunately, because of Din’s lack of sweet tooth. The liquid is steaming hot so you blow on it before bringing it to your lips.

“Do you want one?” you ask him, taking a sip. It burns. “Oof.”

Din turns, armor somehow so dexterous in its bulk. “No, thank you. But…”

In a surprising move, Din reaches for your hips and pulls you flush against him, ignoring the mug altogether. You shriek, worried it might spill, and set it upon the countertop, but he pays little to no mind.

“You took awhile,” he mumbles, hands grasping at the flesh of your hips. They’ve already been treated so roughly today, and now you were sure there’d be bruising. Good.

You chew at your bottom lip, desperate to know what his eyes might look like. You imagine he has dark eyes - like the color of the sky at nightfall. Maybe they became brighter in the light of the suns. Maybe they crinkled when he laughed - if he were capable of that, anyway. You’ve yet to hear such music.

“I didn’t realize you were waiting for me,” you confess, avoiding the steel gaze of his faceplate.

Din hums under his breath and taps your chin, lifting it just barely so that you can meet his stare. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrug, fluttering your lashes in a vain attempt to remain mysterious.

Din reaches for something behind you and reveals a scrap of fabric. “How about we try for nine?” The modulator of his helmet crackles a bit, causing his voice to sound more severe than what he may have liked.

But it does something to you.

You nod sweetly, a tiny grin threatening to sneak its way upon your face, before he takes you within his arms and lifts you upon the counter.

A shrieking, but playful, giggle bursts from your lips. “Din!” you chide, but tie the fabric around your eyes all the same.

The hiss of his helmet sounds, notifying you that he’s revealing himself to the elements now. You can hear his natural breath and feel the way it fans against your collarbones before he kisses you fiercely.

“Let me give you something to really talk about.”

[blueskrugs]

Jump Then Fall | Jack Hughes

I am eternally soft for this kid, okay. this is not the original birthweek fic I had planned for him, but it is a bonus Swift Fic because I couldn't help myself. enjoy while I work on getting my shit together for the summer!

tagging: @marcoscandellas @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @aria253264 @antoineroussel @starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline @nazdaddy @hockey-more-like

length: 2k words

High school relationships never worked out. That’s what they always told you, at least, when you and Jack were young and in love. And they were right, sort of. You’d broken up not long after you’d both graduated, with Jack off to be drafted and you off to college. Except you’d stayed close, texting and talking on the phone often once Jack had headed off to New Jersey. He was one of your best friends, and you were thankful he was still in your life, but you weren’t sure you’d ever stop loving him, not really.

I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Saturday mornings always meant long phone calls with Jack. You’d both wake up early and make coffee before spending most of the morning on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes you wished more than anything that you could see his face, but you weren’t sure what would come spilling out of your mouth when you saw him.

One cold morning in December, you were pretty sure Jack had still been asleep when you called. His voice was slow and rough when he spoke, but you could still hear the smile in his voice.

When you heard him yawn, big enough his jaw cracked, you laughed. “Am I keeping you awake?” you asked.

Jack rushed to answer, “No, never.”

“Jack,” you warned.

Jack laughed. “We got in late last night, I’m just a little tired, I’m fine,” he told you.

“I can let you go back to sleep,” you said.

You heard Jack sit up on the other end of the line. “No way, absolutely not,” he said.

“We’re not even talking about anything important.” You’d mostly been stressing about the end of the semester.

“So? I like talking to you,” Jack argued.

You sighed. “You’re an idiot,” but it came out more fond than annoyed.

Somehow, that phone call lasted almost two more hours. Later, you wouldn’t remember what dumb thing you’d quipped that had made Jack burst out laughing, but you’d always remember the sound of that laugh. You’d wished you’d been able to record it, to have it to listen to on rough days, on days you missed Jack a little extra.

I hear the words but all I can think is We should be together

Jack was telling some story about his teammates. You were only half-listening, paying more attention to his face as he talked. It was late, and Quinn and Jack were home for Christmas. You and the three Hughes boys had taken over the basement for the night. Quinn and Luke were sprawled out on the couch opposite you, and you were buried under several blankets with your feet in Jack’s lap. He was using one hand to help illustrate his story, but the other was resting on your ankle, warm despite the chill outside, his thumb absently rubbing against your bare skin.

Quinn threw a balled up napkin at you, jolting you back to reality. “What’re you thinking about over there?” he asked.

“What?” You threw the napkin back at Quinn.

Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s not that funny, there’s no way you’re smiling at him.”

“Hey!” Jack protested. You dug your heel into his thigh, and he turned to grin at you.

You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. You always seemed to be smiling when you were around Jack, you couldn’t help it.

“Just missed you guys,” you said, grinning back at Jack.

Jack squeezed your ankle and went back to telling his story. You still weren’t listening.

Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face You got the keys to me I love each freckle on your face, oh

When Jack first started growing his hair out, you hated it.

“No, why,” you said the first time you saw him that summer. Luke laughed from somewhere behind you.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and smirked at you. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You love my hair.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ve changed my mind,” you said.

Jack squawked, outraged and offended. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close as you giggled and tried to get away. “You’ll pay for that,” he told you. You dug your elbow into his ribs until he let go of you.

Later that night found the two of you left alone near the bonfire as the sun went down.

“Hey,” Jack said. You locked your phone and tilted your head back to look up at him upside down. “Do you really not like the hair?” he asked.

You snorted. “Would you cut it if I said I didn’t?” Jack shrugged, not quite meeting your eyes. You sat up and twisted to look at Jack properly. “You wouldn’t, oh my God.” It was hard to tell, but he might’ve been blushing in the fading light,

“Just tell me the truth,” he said.

You looked at Jack, really looked at him. He was tan, a new burst of freckles dusted across his nose. He’d shoved a hat on since you’d first seen him earlier in the day, but you could still see how his hair was just beginning to curl at the ends past the nape of his neck. Jack stared back at you, blue eyes dark.

“I guess I could get used to it,” you said.

Honestly, you were so gone for him, you were pretty sure you’d end up still liking him no matter what he looked like.

When people say things that bring you to your knees I'll catch you

Sometimes you didn’t know how Jack put up with it all. From losing streaks to being called a draft bust to people questioning whether he was capable of being a leader, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t have to deal with some bullshit. You knew it wasn’t easy, but he rarely let it get to him. Rarely, but not never.

It didn’t surprise you when your phone rang after a rough game. You answered the FaceTime call without thinking about it, smiling softly when Jack’s face filled your screen. He looked tired, dark bags under his eyes and his hair hanging limply in his face.

“Hi, bud,” you said.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, long and loud, scrubbing his free hand across his face. You’d been able to watch the game, had watched the blowout happen in real time, just another loss in this skid, in a season that had started out promising for once.

“I’m tired,” Jack whined.

“You look like shit,” you told him. Jack stuck his tongue out at you. “Do I need to get Ty to delete Twitter off your phone again?” you asked. Jack rolled his eyes, but you weren’t joking.

“No, I just-” Jack rubbed his eyes again. “Did you see what my plus-minus was tonight?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Oh my God, no, we’re not doing this,” you said. Sometimes Jack wanted to forget everything about a shitty game, but other nights he got frustrated and wanted to pick apart every mistake he’d made on the ice. You dragged your laptop closer to you. “C’mon, open your Netflix, we’re watching a movie.”

There was some scuffling on the other end, with Jack accidentally pointing his phone at the ceiling. “Fine, but I get to pick,” he said.

You argued half-heartedly with him for a while, but he won in the end, and you settled on some movie you’d both seen a dozen times. It was quiet while you watched, a comfortable silence, heavy with familiarity.

“Hey,” Jack said lowly as the end credits rolled later. You’d been half-sure Jack had fallen asleep on you. “Thanks.”

You smiled tiredly at him. It was late, and dark in his room, and you could barely make out his blurry form on your phone. “Anytime, Jacky,” you said, but you meant, “I love you.”

You can jump then fall, jump then fall Jump then fall into me, into me, yeah

Your doorbell rang one morning in early May. When you pulled open the front door, there was Jack, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, standing on your parent’s front porch.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for a few weeks still,” you said, leaning against the door frame. The Devils season was over, but Jack had told you he was planning on sticking around for a while or traveling some before coming home for the summer.

Jack took one of his hands out of his pocket and ran it nervously through his hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, instead of responding to your non-question.

You raised an eyebrow at him. You’d known Jack for years, and you could probably count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him be nervous. “Well, don’t hurt yourself with that, bud,” you told him.

He made a face at you, but it also got him to smile. “Will you just let me-” he started, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s go inside,” you said, stepping back to let Jack follow you into the house.

In the living room, the TV show you had been watching was still paused, but you both ignored it. You sat back on the couch, but Jack stayed standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re freaking me out a little, Jacky,” you said.

Jack sighed and sat on the floor in front of you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I miss you,” he said.

“Jack, we talk every day,” you told him. “I’m right here,” you added softly.

Jack huffed and ran his hands through his hair again. He laid back for a moment, staring silently up at the ceiling fan as it slowly turned above you.

“Have you ever thought about getting back together?” he asked when he sat back up.

You thought about it a lot, actually, but you just said, “Yeah.”

“Do you think we could do it?” Jack asked next.

You hesitated on that one. You’d thought that, maybe, you could’ve made it back when you were in high school, but things were so different now. You’d listened to the opinions of others so much back then, had broken up in part because you thought that it was inevitable anyway. Could you make it through all that again? You still had a few years until you graduated, and New Jersey wasn’t exactly close.

Then again, you two were as close as ever. Jack had only missed a handful of your Saturday morning phone calls, and it was always just because of hockey. He was still sitting on the floor in front of you, looking nervous as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

Jack’s face fell a little. “Do you think we could try?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, just as honestly. You’d never been good at saying no to Jack, anyway.

Jack beamed, and you knew exactly why you still loved him after all this time. Jack leaned forward and tugged at your foot. “Hey, come down here,” he whined. “Wanna kiss you.”

“Or you could come up here?” Jack tugged harder. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking needy,” you laughed, but you slid off the couch and let Jack pull you into his lap.

His hands went to your waist, sliding under your T-shirt, and he smiled smugly up at you. “Hi.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “Hi,” you said back.

“Uh-uh, you can do better than that.” A kiss to his cheek. Jack rolled his eyes and put one of his hands on your cheek to drag you in for a real kiss. “That’s better,” he whispered, but you were already leaning in for another kiss.

[bukojuiice]

i like you a latte. ➸ coffee shop au headcanons

ೃ pairings: (izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, and shoto todoroki x reader)

ೃ  tags: headcanons, coffee shop au!

ೃ warnings:  none

ೃ word count 4572 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​ @sparkykatsuki​ @ramunegoddess, @serossimpy

- Katsuki Bakugo

-        Being a barista or just someone who works in a coffee shop in general, leads to a lot of unexpected things.

-        You meet and interact with a lot of busy people every single day. They come and they go.

-        Anything could absolutely happen.

-        But did it ever cross your mind that amongst all these busy people who flock in and out of the café, that you’d fall in love with one of them? Nope.

-        That was until a particularly handsome spiky-haired blonde came crashing into the door with his chaotic friends at his tail, pushing him to confess his feelings to you.

-        How did this come to be? Why you of all people?

-        Bakugo and his squad frequently visit a café that you work in as a barista.

-        You were one to take note of every regular customer you see.

-        You do it for fun most of the time and it’s nice to observe people, especially at a very social job such as this.

-        Katsuki and his friends were a bit loud and stood out in particular. They were good-intentioned people and they looked like they were very fun to be with.

-        They immediately piqued your interest as soon as you saw them line up at the counter, chattering away, their personalities clashing with each other with the way they talked, yet they looked like they were all still the best of friends.

-        Kaminari noticing how cute and pretty you are, and decided to hit on you. Pulling a very lame romantic coffee pun that you’ve heard time and time again.

-        His red-headed friend who was a few places away from him, bonked him in the head for being a weirdo again.

-        You brush him off jokingly, ignoring his pleas and side remarks until he finally tells you his order and apologizes. (Not only for embarrassing himself, but also to you for having to put up with a lame joke.)

-        When it was time for the blonde to order, you notice his expression soften and his voice go low. and as oblivious as you were, you just took it as a casual customer who was just being courteous and respectful to baristas like you.

-        But, you were very very wrong. There was meaning in it all along.

-        “One Pumpkin Spice Latte please.” He announces his order, looking away from you, whilst you can hear his friends snickering behind you as if they were teasing him about something.

-        “Will that be all?” You smile, calculating his order onto the cash register.

-        “Yes.” He nods solemnly, then hands his payment to you.

-        “Name please?”

-        “Katsuki.”

-        Ever since that warm spring day in March, the blonde would visit almost every day.

-        Sometimes with or without his friends, sometimes just dropping by to get his usual drink or staying until closing hours, sometimes ordering his usual Pumpkin Spice Latter or some other drink that surprises you, and sometimes with a book on his hand or typing away on his laptop.

-        And- you never got tired of seeing him.

-        For all the people who come in and out of this establishment, he was special.

-        He became someone whom you couldn’t get out of your head, someone who you were excited to see after a tiring day, and he became a sort of reminder to you as to why you came to love this job in the first place.

-        In fact, you’ve grown to like him by just merely observing him.

-        Sure, there were times when you’d go up to his table and interact with him. Engaging in small talk, albeit sometimes he didn’t seem interested, but you knew he was listening.

-        You wanted to interact with him more than just idle chit chat. More than just asking if he enjoyed his drink or if he need an extra fork or straw. You wanted it to be more than just that.

-        Katsuki feels the same too, but with how unfriendly and aggressive he may look sometimes, he has no idea how to interact with you either. Maybe, he might hurt your feelings or maybe you might misinterpret something he says, prompting you to not approach him anymore.

-        Maybe for the first time in his life, he needed to appreciate and be contented with the little things. No matter how insignificant or trifling they may be, he had to be content with what he has with you right now.

-        That was until today.

-        You take a tray from the counter, and place Katsuki’s drink on it. You walk slowly to his table, showing him your usual smile, sliding his drink off your tray and putting it down on his table. “Enjoy your drink Katsuki-san!” Next, you place tissues and his usual order of honey-glazed donut (in contrast to his every day order of pumpkin spice latte)

-        When… your hand brushed with his.

-        You hear yourself squeal in place, slowly taking back your hand and apologizing. “Ah, I’m s-sorry! Anywho, enjoy your drink!”

-        “Wait.” He grabs your wrist. His touch, soft and gentle, giving you a very different feeling that you would usually feel from a guy like him. “Can I ask for your name?”

-        “Oh. It’s (Y/N)! It’s nice to meet you Katsuki-san! Bye!” You cover your face, running back to the counter to attend to another customer’s order, leaving his table before he was even able to say another word.

-        It was a week before he came back to the coffee shop after that day.

-        You counted the days when he didn’t visit, and because of that, you were in a rather damp and sad mood ever since. Maybe he wanted to tell you something? Maybe he was about to tell you he was never going back to the coffee shop again? Maybe he took the gesture of you running away from him as a sign that you weren’t interested in talking to him that’s why he didn’t bother coming back?

-        It was a regular Tuesday. Taco Tuesday actually. You decided to stop counting the days that Katsuki didn’t visit, maybe he really was gone now.

-        Your eyes lit up at the sight of Katsuki entering the café with his friends. A pink-haired girl, obviously points at you, nudging her blonde friend in the arm. “Go for it! What’s stopping you from talking to her!?”

-        You pay them no mind and divert your attention back to the customer in front of you. Although you were waiting for them to get in line and attend to them.

-        You hear their voices from the back of the line growing louder and louder as they got closer to the counter. You couldn’t help but shake your head and chuckle at the sight of seeing them.

-        “Hi (Y/N=chan)!” Mina beams. Kirishima and Kaminari had their arm around Bakugo’s shoulder at both sides whilst Sero was behind Bakugo making sure he had no chance of escape. “My friend, Bakubro, here wanted to ask you something!”

-        “Sure.” You give them your signature smile. “Is there something up?”

-        “Ooooh! He wants to ask you if-“

-        “Could you guys shut up for a second!?” He turns to his friends, shooting all of them a glare, and you swear you could see him pop a vein on his head. His friends simmer down and hand you a note with all of their orders instead, as they retreat to a table within earshot of the two of you. They flash Katsuki a thumbs up before trying their best to not eavesdrop.

-        He collects himself first, taking a deep breath before finally speaking again.

-        “I was wondering… if you’re free sometime?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking away from you as to not show the cute and dorky blush present on his face. “If you’re not interested though then-“

-        You giggle, reaching for the cup of his pumpkin spice latte and writing something down on it. You put down the orders of his friends on a tray then hand it over to him. “Let’s talk about it later… If that’s okay with you?”

-        He nods, a puzzled look on his face, as he gets out of the line.

-        You notice his friends were about to jump for joy as soon as their explosive blonde friend approach their table, Kirishima grabs Katsuki’s pumpkin spice latte before he takes a sip, then notices what you had written on there. “OH MY GOD!?”

-        “BAKUBRO! SHE GAVE YOU HER NUMBER!?”

-        “WAIT!? WHAT!?” He reaches for his drink, stealing it from his red-headed friend, reading the contents of the cup.

-        You notice him blushing as his friends burst into a fit of laughter. “SMOOTH MOOVES, KATSUKI! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING! YOU WERE THAT OBIVIOUUS!” they continue to tease him as he registers your number into his cellphone.

-        “START EATING YOU LOSERS! WE HAVE A LECTURE WITH A SHITTY PROFESSOR AT 10 AM.”

-        “yeah~ yeah~ yeah~”

-        You giggle at the sight of them relentlessly teasing him still.

-        At the end of your shift, you finally check your phone to be greeted to a text by Katsuki.

-        “Hey (Y/N). Is Friday good with you? I noticed that you don’t work at the café during Fridays, and I wanted to confirm if that’s one of your free days?”

“Of course! And, yes, it is! Can’t wait to see you for the first time out of the café by then!  (´｡• ω •｡`)”

-        “Yeah… see you.”

 - Shoto Todoroki

-        Why is the owner of the coffee shop near your university have to be this hot?

-        The girls around campus call him the Coffee Prince for a reason.

-        Who gave him the right? Who gave him the right to arrive at the very café he owns in a dashing black coat that he matched with a black (sometimes grey) turtleneck, his defined and toned muscles clearly perking from underneath, an expensive watch in his wrist, and some doc. Martens boots to complete the look.

-        Who gave him the right to be this handsome?

-        Did I mention that he’s also a student at the same university you go to?

-        Did I also mention that he sometimes manages the cash register? And how everyone and their mothers flock to the café as soon as they see him at the counter?

-        Shoto Todoroki.

-        That was his name.

-        The youngest son of the Todoroki family who owns pretty much about every corporate building and company in the city.

-        Yet, here he was, managing his little own café. Clearly not interested in the business world that his entire family had built.

-        It was large yet quaint coffee shop, not only were the drinks crafted with love and care along with the snacks and food you can order, but it was also the wonderful smell of scented pinecones wafting around the café. It was heaven. (Just like all coffee shops are, but this one in particular has a special place in your heart, and it’s not JUST because of the handsome man that owns this café.)

-        Shoto was different and a very hands-on kind of guy. If he wasn’t managing the counter, he would be making drinks, messing around in the kitchen, and bringing out yummy cookies and other amazingly baked goods (that he made) as the dish and the dessert of the day.

-        He was very kind to his staff. Making sure the energy was always light and happy. Joking around with them, helping them out, and with the occasional outbursts that customers have, he quickly handles the situation with ease.

-        He was perfect in more ways than one. And with that, he was very much out of your league.

-        Although your friends would encourage you, it wasn’t enough for you to push through with it and talk to him.

-        Besides, it’s not like he has time to talk with customers on a daily basis right? He was a busy man and a college student just like you.

-        You were just like everyone else. Helplessly in love with a guy like him. The rich and handsome young man who looked like he came straight out of a romantic comedy.

-        There is a 0.0001% chance he would even notice you. Why bother trying to compete when there’s so much competition? You weren’t main character material at all. Why would he notice you then?

-        In some days, when busines is slow and the café is quiet, you see him working at the farthest table in the corner, near the charging station. He had a stern and serious face, very much focused on his laptop, typing away, while sipping on a cup of coffee from time to time.

-        Although this happened very rarely since the café was usually packed 24/7.

-        But, when days were extremely slow, these were the perfect times to just admire him from afar.

-        His handsome features, half-and-half colored hair, and his beautiful heterochromatic eyes…

-        Sometimes, he would run his fingers through his hair, and you feel your heart stop every time he does it, that you can’t even focus on the project you were doing.

-        Unbeknownst to you, he too would sneak glances at you from time to time.

-        Maybe, Shoto Todoroki wasn’t the type of guy who would fall in love with the main heroine.

-        Maybe, he wasn’t that kind of person after all this time of thinking that he is.

-        As books and clichés go, maybe you just had to read in between the lines.

-        To notice that he too was in love with you all this time.

-        “Earth to (y/n)?” Ochaco waves a hand in front of you. No answer. The girl huffs and starts to pack up her things. But, before she leaves, at a last attempt to wake you up from your trip to space, she whispers loud enough for you to hear.

-        “Is that Mr. Shoto Todoroki I see shirtless in the corner!?”

-        “You won’t be able to trick me with that Ochaco-chan.” You snap back into reality, shaking your head at your best friend’s failed attempt at trying to get your attention.

-        She winks and grins at you in disbelief. “Still gotcha there love. I’m about to head off to my next lecture, will you be staying here?”

-        “Yup. It’s not too crowded today anyway, and I also need to catch up on my lessons.”

-        “Mkay! I’ll tell Tsuyu and the others to head here after class! See you!” Your brown-haired friend waves goodbye, a ringing bell at the door signaling that she left the premises.

-        You watch Ochaco’s walking figure as she leaves. But, once you turn to sneak a glance at Shoto, you catch his gaze.

-        Oh. my. God.

-        He was looking at you too.

-        You grin sheepishly, waving gingerly at him. “H-hi Todoroki-san…”

-        He returns the greeting by nodding at you, as he gets back to doing his work. (trying to keep his cool as you obviously caught him staring back at you.)

-        You frown as soon as he averts his gaze. Much like him, you go back to focus on the pile of learning materials you had to go through.

-        Someone suddenly enters the store, disrupting you from your studies yet again with how loud they shut the door behind them. Shoto was also annoyed and alerted by this, keeping an eye on the sleazy guy who had just entered his precious establishment.

-        The guy approaches you, shooting you a glare. “This is my seat. Get out.”

-        “Excuse me? I was here first. I don’t see your name anywhere you a-“

-        “What did you say!?” The sleazebag attempts to grab you by the wrist forcefully, trying to drag you out of the table by first. But, before he could, you notice someone grab his arm first, pushing him away from you.

-        “Who the hell are you!?”

-        You look up to see Shoto shielding you, his hand gripping onto the guy’s wrist. You feel your heart beat rapidly at the sight of his tall and well-built figure standing in front of you.

-        “The owner of this café. There are a lot of unoccupied seats in the area that you can sit in, as you can see. Unless you’re blind that is.”

-        “Excuse me!? What kind of asshole are you!? Ain’t the customer always right!? I’m never going back to this shitty establishment!” He flips Shoto off before storming out of the store.

-        Shoto sighs and then turns to you. “Are you okay?” His hand tries to reach out for you, but he hesitates, and stops before you notice him doing so. “Did he hurt you anywhere?”

-        “Ah no. Not really. Don’t worry.” You wave your hands in assurance, a faint blush appearing on your cheeks. “Thank you, Todoroki-san. You didn’t have to do that.”

-        “I had to. You’re an…“ He pauses for a second, as if trying to collect his words and trying his best to not slip up in front of you. “Important customer. I couldn’t stand to see anybody be hurt like that.”

-        “Important customer?” You look at him in disbelief. You turn away from him, trying to process what he had just said. “I’m just another regular old customer who frequents your café. How can I be of importance when nothing stands out about me?”

-        Shoto raises his finger, telling you to wait a moment, and then leaves your table. He collects his things from the place he usually sits at and heads over to sit on the chair opposite of yours. Sitting down on the seat, he brings out his laptop and places his coffee mug on the table.

-        You blink and tilt your head. But on the inside, you wanted to yeet yourself into space because here he was, the guy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year, face to face, your face meters away from his, and the two of you trying to study in peace like some lovey dovey university couple.

-        The two of you continue to make idle chit-chat while working on your respective tasks. You told him your name and in turn, he told you to stop being so formal with him, saying that you calling him Shoto was fine.  He was fun to be with despite the fact that the two of you were quiet throughout the entire time.

-        Time does fly when you’re with your crush, that you didn’t notice it was time for your next lecture. You were about to stand up from your seat when Shoto suddenly speaks.

 -        “(Y/N).” He says sternly. You look up from your computer, continuing to fold it and stuff it in your bag. “Yes?” You reply.

 -        “I was wondering if you wanted to be study buddies? I notice you studying alone most of the time whenever the café isn’t busy, and I think it would be less lonely if we shared a table. Only if you want to though…” He says ever so casually, as if nothing fazes him. Even though on the inside, he was about to die of embarrassment thinking about what would happen if you said no.

 -        “Of course! I’d love to!” You reply coolly, trying to not act like you were about to explode of happiness on the spot. “See you tomorrow, then?” You stand up from your seat, slinging your backpack on your shoulders.

 -        “Yup. See you.” He waves goodbye, watching you leave his café. As soon as you were out of earshot, he breathes a sigh of relief, mouthing a joyful “yes!” as he goes back to what he was doing, and he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the day.

 -        You did the same too. As soon as Shoto wasn’t within reach, you smile widely, squealing, and clutching your journal to your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t believe that actually happened.”

 -        This was it. The start of something new.

 -        Your love story with the Coffee Prince was about to begin.

 - Izuku Midoriya

-        Izuku Midoriya is the cute and hardworking barista who works at your favorite café that you and your friends visit every day.

-        Aoyama and Ochaco call him the “matcha haired cutie” for some reason, even though the color of his hair?? is far?? from the color?? of actual matcha??  

-        Even from afar, he just looks like the most precious cinnamon roll ever?? And your heart just can’t stop fluttering at the thought of seeing him every time you drop by to get a cup of coffee.

-        Pls why must this boy be so cute? his floofy dark green-hair do be making all the ladies swoon

-        The coffee shop is flooded with customers every time it’s his shift. Most of them are regulars who find him really sweet + adorable and they spend way too much time at the counter trying to make idle chat with “izuku” (as seen on his name tag) and it’s really annoying.

-        Some bold and confident regulars attempt to ask for his number, but izuku politely refuses.

-        Which means more chances of winning for you (even though you’re in the same level of interaction with izuku as all these other people)

-        When you come up to the counter however, his smile feels different. He shows you a smile that feels so warm and comforting. A smile that reminds you of home. a smile that makes you forget the stress put upon you by college just for a little while.

-        You notice that he adds extra whipped cream and some chocolate sprinkles to your frappe from time to time and you have no idea if this is intentional or if he just does it by accident.

-        Either way, your friends are convinced that it is intentional and it’s some sort of love language/special treatment that baristas have for customers they have a soft spot for.

-        You always greet him warmly. “good morning izuku-kun! How are you today?”

-        He immediately beams at you. “Good morning! It’s been a great day so far! may I take your order?” You then proceed to recite your usual drink.

-        It’s the littlest things and the smallest gestures that matter after all.

-        Sometimes you would space out whilst at the register, not knowing you were next in line (most of the time it’s because you’re trying to think of something witty to say to him)

-        He smiles at the sight of seeing you, “hi! will it be the usual?”

-        “a-ah yes. I’m sorry for spacing out there.”

-        “it’s alright! I feel you! it happens to me all the time too actually!”

-        His smile. His cute little freckles, his friendly aura, and just his entire presence in general. There’s just something about him that draws you in.

-        He reminds you of a little daisy amongst a field of different flowers. pure, bright and very pleasant. Just swaying with the wind and perfectly content with life.

-       If he arrives early from uni, you see him chilling at the mini library of the café and is usually seen engrossed in a classical novel (you’ve noticed he’s been reading a lot of jane austen, franz kafka, f. scott fitzgerald and arthur conan doyle novels recently!)

-        For some reason, when he’s out of his whole barista uniform, no one seems to notice him. It’s like he fades into the background.

-        He’s able to enjoy the peace and solace that loneliness brings, with a frappe or an expresso usually at the table next to him along with a pile of other books.

-        At the insistence of your friends, you decide to approach him and have small talk.

-        That was enough to make you happy even just for a moment.

-        “hi there izu-kun! It’s nice to see you out of your popular barista persona for the day.”

-        “oh? hi (y/n)!”

-        “wait… you know my name?” you immediately feel a faint tint of pink appear on your cheeks, trying your best to hide it from him by covering your mouth until it fades.

-        “of course! i asked one of your friends who regularly visit the shop. Your blonde friend? The one that has these sparkles around him that follow him everywhere?”

-        “aoyama…” you grit your teeth, muttering under your breath.

-        “anyway, would you like to have a seat? It’d be nice to have some company.” he pats the cushion next to him, scooting over to the other side of the sofa.

-        You slowly sit down, feeling yourself shaking a little bit because you had absolutely no idea he even ACTUALLY knew your name and what you had originally wished for, which was just a normal interaction with him, would ESCALATE to this.

-        “What are you reading?” you turn to him, trying to take a peek.

-        “Pride and Prejudice!” he grins, scratching his head sheepishly. “I know it’s not the typical book that you’d expect someone like me to read out in public like this, but mr darcy and elizabeth’s romance throughout the book makes me feel giddy. They’re such a good couple and they’re written so well!”

-        “they are! The dumb English lit major in me wrote a 40-page doc just talking about their love and other classical couples seen in novels! There’s just something about them that makes the book worth reading time and time again!”

-        “Y-yeah…”

-        You notice him grow flustered and nervous all of a sudden and you can’t help but shoot him a puzzled look. “is something wrong Izu-kun?”

-        “I-I actually want to recommend this to you!” He hands you a small and slightly worn book with no cover or title in it. He then takes a look at his watch, his eyes growing wide. “A-ah! It’s time for my shift!” He stands up from the couch, but before he properly leaves, he turns to you and smiles his precious smile again. “see you later (y/n)!” he waves then quickly takes a beeline to the back of the café.

-        You wave back. watching his figure growing smaller and smaller until his disappears when he enters the backdoor.

-        You sigh and start to skim thru the pages of the book, when you notice a yellow sticky note inside.

-        “Words cannot expresso how much you mean to me. Would you like to go out sometime?”

-        And you swear, at that moment, you feel your heart about to combust from happiness. Squealing internally, you hide your flustered expression by digging your face inside the book, not to be seen by anyone else.

-        You were going to savor this moment.

[anika-ann]

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.2

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2750

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

Steve is not entirely a stranger anymore; he knows about your troubles and you know about his. And he’s determined to sort out yours this very moment.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, language, something that might be close to a panic attack if you squint

A/N: There we go... hopefully I’ll make mid-week a bit sweeter for some of you ;)

Part 1

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

“W-what?” you stuttered, suddenly consumed by the familiar feeling of losing the firm ground under your feet at the idea of trying to confront Gregory head-on. Not even Steve at your side was helping at all as the four of you started walking towards the IT department.

“I-I don’t have any prove! I can’t-- he told me he would--- that he would-”

“That he’d twist it around, convince the HR that you were crushing on him and he turned you down, which turned you into a soulless bitch craving revenge?” the billionaire finished for you and you just uselessly opened you mouth, unable to let out a word to deny it. It seemed to amuse him, because he scoffed; and there was something very bitter in that sound too. “Kid, he’s not the first asshole to take advantage of his superior position. I’ve seen the types. Relax. If Cap here believes you, then so do I. Plus, I know a liar when I see one. And you ain’t lying.”

You breathed in shakily, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Could it really be so easy? That couldn’t be right…

“T-thank you, Mr. Stark. I-”

“Yeah, yeah, just name your first kid after me,” Mr. Stark uttered, waving it off.

The Falcon next to you chuckled and you shot Steve a confused gaze. Was that how Mr. Stark usually was? You had never met him in person; you had only ever heard him giving a speech on TV and you knew he had a certain reputation, but this was… different.

You were surprised to find Steve watching you; perhaps he worried about your reaction to such bluntness, since he had seen your outburst in the closet. Upon meeting your gaze – probably shy and undeniably surprised – he charmed a tiny smile for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, see?”

“What are you even worried about? You have three Avengers coming with you!” Mr. Wilson questioned lightly and you bit your lower lip as you thought of the source of anxiety indeed.

Yeah, I have three Avengers and they are all men. Sue me for not being sure which side they would take – not until now.

“You’re not a full-time Avenger, Wilson.”

Falcon gasped, clutching at his chest theatrically at Stark’s remark. “Ouch, Tony. My heart.”

You let out a breathy laugh at their banter and felt yourself relax despite your better judgement. You almost let yourself believe it truly would go alright. Well, as much as dealing with such shitty thing could.

“You’re all my heroes,” you whispered timidly, which earned you a bright smile from Sam Wilson.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cruel, Birdboy. You stole the old man’s line,” Mr. Stark hummed, amused.

“Heh! Sorry, Cap. But I’m sure you have a whole set of other lines to use on her.”

You choked on your own spit as Steve faltered in his steps, his grip on you growing stronger. What the hell did the Falcon just say?

“Oh my God, Wilson, shut up before we get stuck with another harassment report.”

“I don’t think this a subject for joking,” Steve interjected, slightly irritated, and you shot him a grateful look, because he definitely had a point.

Except… once you weren’t in such a sticky situation, you totally wouldn’t mind Steve Rogers using a line on you. Not at all. And his hand around yours felt nice for multiple reasons, the wordless comfort and support only being one of them. It was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of his physical work, and it was bigger than yours, so sweetly and distractingly enveloping yours…

But now it was so not the time.

Your peculiar group approached the office and you didn’t even have the time to brace yourself as Tony Stark simply threw the door open, not bothering to knock.

“Thomas Ian Gregory, you are fired this very second,” the billionaire exclaimed dramatically.

You would think he was just being a drama queen, except he sounded deadly serious, using your boss’ full name which he must have read out on the door, and his eyes were throwing daggers at the man sitting behind the desk, looking as if he was the fucking king of the world.

Your boss blinked in surprise and eyed all four of you; Falcon with his arms crossed on his chest, Ironman minus his suit with a murderous glare and a hand raised towards him as if he wanted to point a finger and then Gregory’s gaze fell on your hand connected with Steve’s; you wanted to retrieve it quickly, but Steve wouldn’t let you, his grip growing firm. Anger flashed through your boss’ eyes for a second, before he composed himself and rose from his chair with an innocently confused expression.

You wanted to puke and you felt your legs turning into a shaking mess of jello. This was it. Now he would use his slimy words to turn this situation around and you were about to get fired and humiliated so much that jumping under a bus would be the most likeable option for you.

“Mr. Stark, it’s an honour. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

You couldn’t believe this--- this pig. Seriously. Who the fuck did he think he was?! How could he--- just lie so easily, pretending that everything was perfectly fine?!

But Tony Stark was not fooled by the charade and you mentally sighed in relief, sure they must have heard the weight falling off of your shoulders even in Jersey.

“I’m sure you heard me, Mr. Gregory. You quit and you’ll be hearing from the HR soon. And you’ll be damn lucky if this young lady right here won’t sue you.”

You honestly wished you were invisible when Gregory’s gaze flickered to you, subtle anger with a promise of consequences in his irises – consequences that would come should you not cut this bullshit right now.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Stark. If this is about the unfortunate feelings my assistant has for me-”

Tears of rage and baseless shame stung in your eyes at his words and you breathed in sharply to defend yourself; before you could, Gregory continued.

“Though I can see they weren’t very… honest. Obviously my inferior seems to be the ‘love them and leave them’ type, which I should warn you about, Capta-”

Breathless at his malicious made-out theories, you did not expect Steve to drop your hand in favour to tower over your boss, making him shut up with one single glare.

Alright, you could see why he had thought that simply appearing at your office would make Gregory tremble in fear. Your boss actually backed off and learnt onto a table, looking as if he was supporting himself under the weight of Steve’s judgement.

“I met this woman for the first time not half an hour ago, hiding from you, too scared of your dirty hands to return to her own workplace. Trust me, it left an impression, just like you are leaving one now,” Steve grunted menacingly, causing your heart to pound in your chest in fright even with his words not aimed on you. “If I can give an advice, you pack your things as fast as you can, apologize to her profusely, begging for her forgiveness and you don’t set a foot in this building or speak to her ever again. Do we have an understanding?”

You weren’t the only one affected. Your boss tried to reciprocate Captain America’s glare, but he failed miserably. He visibly gulped and circled his desk, still watching the soldier as if he was expecting to get hit; then his eyes just dropped to his desk and he frantically started picking random things from it.

You watched the scene in front of you, paralyzed. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, pulsing in your temples, your breathing alternating between hitching and picking up. Your vision started to swim.

Holy. Shit.

“Cap, I think you broke her.”

Steve spun to you at instant, his eyes roaming your face; or you thought so. He looked worried now; or you thought so. Thinking and frankly evaluating the stimuli your senses were receiving was a bit difficult at the moment.

What the hell had just happened?

Gentle hands took yours, leading you out of the room. You blindly followed, unsure how to put one foot in front of the other, your body running on autopilot.

It was over. Thomas Gregory was no longer your boss and it had happened without you losing your job. And Steve Rogers had scolded him as if he was a five-year old kid – a very pervert one, but a kid nonetheless. Steve put a fucking fear of God into him. All of that happening within three minutes. And you just… couldn’t quite process all that.

You barely registered getting into and out of an elevator, being seated on a couch, having a blanket tossed over your shoulders and a cup of warm liquid pressed into your hands. You automatically brought it to your lips, only to be stopped by a tender fingers curling around your wrist.

“Careful. It might be too hot,” a pleasant voice warned you and you blinked, finally focusing your gaze, finding rather worried and very handsome face staring back.

You glanced at the cup, surprised to identify the drink as Steve’s hand let go of yours.

“Is that… is that hot chocolate?” you stuttered, bewildered. Well, more like… astonished.

“Yeah. You’re not allergic to milk or anything, are you?”

You looked up back to Steve’s face, only to find him with his brows furrowed in concern, lips thoughtfully pursed. It snapped you to action.

“No! No. It’s just… I didn’t have one in years. Thank— thank you.”

His expression cleared, as he was evidently pleased with himself. “Good. You’re welcome.”

The words fell off his lips so easily. As if he just hadn’t… hadn’t saved your career. Or your mental health, really.

You eyed the table by the couch, setting the cup down, only to fully turn to him. He seemed a bit confused at that; but God, you had something important to say and since you didn’t want to give up the blanket just yet, you decided to get rid of the mug at least to look less pathetic.

“No, Steve, I… thank you,” you whispered sincerely, feeling tears in your eyes for like a millionth time that day. His smile widened a little.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I… if I scared you down there. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“You didn’t-” you blurted out in attempt to deny it and make him feel better, only to waver as his eyebrow rose, picture perfect of doubt. It made you chuckle at yourself self-deprecatingly. “It’s not your fault that I was… surprised by your little hulk-out. I guess I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Hulk-out, huh? How do you feel?”

You shrugged, exhaling slowly, thinking hard about your answer.

“Like I just watched my life take a way better turn that I would expect... and I’m still only watching,” you whispered honestly, which led to his face twisting in a grimace.

“Anything I can do?”

You couldn’t help it; you scanned your surroundings, realizing you were in something that looked fancy enough to belong to Tony Stark and was way too big to be part of an actual apartment. You ran your hand down the blanket covering your shoulders, reaching for the abandoned cup to blow on it softly and take a careful sip of chocolate. Steve’s questioning gaze observed you while you did so and you smiled blissfully into the cup as the delicious rich taste caressed your tongue.

“You mean besides comforting me despite being a complete stranger, getting my harassing boss fired and scaring the hell out of him, taking me to--- here, giving me a blanket and making the best cup of hot chocolate I had in years? Give me a second, I’m sure I’ll figure out something else,” you babbled and Steve’s smile grew, tense shoulders relaxing. “Seriously, Steve. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I owe you. I- I know you’re a hero and all that, but… yeah. I should be asking you what I could do for you in return.”

“That’s not-- I’m not--- ...you make a pleasant company,” he said in the end as if he realized he couldn't deny any of the things you had listed. You lowered your gaze to the chocolate as his eyes twinkled at the statement.

“Ditto.”

“Does that-” he blurted out and you tilted your head to side, watching him curiously when he stopped talking just as abruptly. “This is a terrible timing, but that’s apparently an infamous quality of mine, because usually I wait too long, and… uhm…”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suddenly embarrassed soldier scratching the back of his neck, peeking at your through his eyelashes. Was that--- was he trying to-? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah?” you softly encouraged him to continue.

He wetted his lips, causing your previously tight gut to warm up.

“I understand that it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now, but… when you settle down again... and things are a bit calmer for you… would you- uhm,  like to… maybe spend some more time with--- with me?”

If he had blurted the sentence in one go, you would have dropped your mug in surprise despite suspecting this incredible thing when he had turned bashful. But he didn’t so your brain had enough time to process the words slowly leaving his lips, one after another, little shy, little hopeful. Your heart was speeding up with each of them, ready to burst when he finished with a tiny nervous smile.

Well. How could you possibly say no to that irresistible creature in front of you? You smiled into your drink.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

You wanted to chuckle at the pure surprise on his face, but it was just too endearing and so you had to fight the urge to make an embarrassing sound like an aww instead.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d really like that,” you repeated, hiding the teasing note in your voice. “But you’ve got to teach me how to make a chocolate that good, because seriously, it tastes amazing.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” you demanded, a bit hurt, rather surprised. “I don’t want you to give up your secret recipe right away! Just… in time.”

He grinned at you boyishly, leaning a bit closer to you. You held your breath in anticipating, a the change. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the process of preparing it for you and your smile in return.”

You stared at him for few moments, taking the statement in, wondering if he was teasing you or was being serious. The corners of his lips were quirked up as if he was indeed joking, but there was a certain spark of honesty in his eyes.

You decided to play along, whether it was a game or not. Perhaps it was the relief of newly found freedom from a sleazy man in your life that plucked up your courage and woke up your jovial side.

���Aww, Steve, that’s so sweet. Is that your way of telling me you’re planning on spoiling me? Because then I would need significantly less time to… settle down.”

His grin widened at your words. “Is that so?”

“Mm.”

“Well then…” he brought up lowly, torturing you with anticipation when he didn’t continue, only to watch you with a mischievous smile.

“...then?”

“What are your plans for Friday evening?”

Oh, you were so glad you were sitting, because otherwise the force of the moment in which Steve Rogers asked you out on Friday night would knock you down.

You tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound like an over-enthusiastic YES, but his blue eyes staring into yours made it very difficult for you.

Dammit, it was harder to talk to him when you could actually see--- you smiled smugly at the idea that popped up in your head and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m hiding in a supply closet. Why, you wanna join me?”

Steve burst out laughing, throwing his head back with that sound and the picture armed your heart so thoroughly it was unfair.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to bring muffins and coffee or do you prefer an actual dinner?”

You found yourself laughing too and you suddenly believed that your life would indeed get better. It already had, after all.

S.R. masterlist

Beautiful divider by @whimsicalrogers 

Thank you for the kind feedback on the first part and I hope you liked this one too :))

Thank you for reading!

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Risk

Summary: Chris couldn’t believe he was finally meeting you and you were even more more perfect than what he’d seen in your music videos.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Pop Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Face Riding, Oral (female receiving), Girl on Top, Missionary, brief doggy style

(A/N: this has been sitting in my WIPs for a minute so it’s kind of a relief to finally put it out. Anyway, like, comment, or reblog.)

Tagged: @titty-teetee, @harrysthiccthighss, @iam-laiya, @mariahthelioness29, @night-of-the-living-shred, @liquorlaughslove, @blackmissfrizzle, @whiskey-cokenfanfic, @olyvoyl, @zaddychris

There was no way Chris could have possibly focused on the interviewer’s questions when you were so close. Your tight shirt showed off your tits so well it was distracting. As you laughed, they jiggled and he couldn’t help the half smile that came on his face as he couldn’t help himself, but to take a glance.

What was fucked up was that this was for a charity. You were a pop star that was very involved in investing in programs to protect the arts. He coming from a family of theatre nerds was of course interested in the same thing. The two of you got paired up for an interview. Only meeting for the first time today as there’d been a fundraiser event. Though Chris had been obsessing over you since he’d found out your name.

The first thing that struck him about you was how goddamn gorgeous you were in person. All of the pictures of you online didn’t even do you justice. He’d went through all your albums surprising himself with how much he actually liked them. You sounded like an angel yet your lyrics could be downright filthy sometimes. When he’d watched your most recent music video, he found himself growing hard seeing you in that tiny outfit and shaking your ass.

He’d seen your music videos. Watched a few live performances. Maybe clicked on a few interviews because he needed to know how your voice sounded. None of it prepared him for reality.

Those eyes and your lips. Fuck he could kiss the fuck out of your lips. You looked like you’d just walked straight out of his fantasies.

Nothing prepared him for how your ass looked in those jeans. His hand twitched as he managed to fight off the urge to just grab it. Then there were those perfect tits. Perfectly swelled under your t-shirt. Being distracting.

His eyes raked up and down your body another time. This time you’d laughed at something he had said. He wasn’t prepared for how giggly you were. How bubbly you were.

It honestly felt like he’d known you for years with how comfortable he found himself. Like you two were old friends catching up instead of strangers. As he made a shitty attempt to respond to something the interviewer had said your head turned as you listened. “Well, the arts have always been important to me,” his voice low and raspy like he’d just woken up. “My family was insanely involved in theatre when I was growing up and I jumped around from piano to tap dancing. I even did ballet for a little.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading on your face when he’d said that. “Really?” You perked up. “I did ballet.”

Of course, he knew that already because he’d taken a look at your Wikipedia page. “Really? How long?”

“I did it for,” you drew out the last word as you thought, “ten years, I think.”

He nodded almost losing himself as he looked into your eyes. “Wow that’s a long time. You must have loved it.”

“I did.” You smiled. “It was such an important part of my life growing up. All the friends I made. The things I learned and discipline. It’s also why I’m so flexible.” You giggled looking over at him again with this look in your eyes.

Were you flirting with him?

He quirked an eyebrow also grinning. His eyes darting from your eyes to your lips then back. How were you so goddamn pretty?

The interview moved forward with you sending signals that you were definitely flirting with him. You giggled at everything he said. Had played with your hair making you crane your neck to the side. The way your tits were fucking jiggling anytime he said anything mildly amusing. How you’d positioned yourself so they were perked up towards him.

Once everything had wrapped up, the both of you had been whisked away by your respective teams. He got one last good view of you walking away before being told to move onto the next thing.

It took two hours before your paths would cross again. This time at the panel the two of you were part of. You were once again seated beside each other. You were once again giggling at everything he said, while fixing your hair craning your neck to the side, and perking your tits in his direction. His hand twitched again as he fought the urge to grab your hand when you touched his bicep playfully to add onto something he’d just said.

This time when this had come to an end he’d manage to avoid being whisked away by his team. Getting off of stage fast enough to where they didn’t even see him. You lingered behind sort of blending in with the crowd as you managed to slip away.

The two of you bumped into each other smiles immediately spreading over your faces. “Hey.” The two of you said at the same time.

You bit your lip as the corners of your mouth were turned up. He let out a sigh before swallowing. “And here I thought I’d found the perfect hiding spot,” he said. 

“Actually, I’ve been eyeing this spot since we got here so I think I found it.” You joked back.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe we should wrestle over it.”

You shook your head with a pout. “Sorry I can’t do that. I’m a lover not a fighter. “

He chuckled. Fuck you were cute. “Could I be a lover and a fighter?”

“Ohhh I don’t know. I feel like that’s cheating.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to win.”

That fucking giggle. Those goddamn jiggling tits. That goddamn hair. That fucking neck. And you perking your tits out. Except this time, you gave him a pretty generous glimpse down your shirt.

“You busy after this?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Does catching up on Netflix count?”

He laughed. “Yes, but well I was thinking of going out for dinner after this thing,” he said, trying to suppress whatever urge he was constantly getting to touch you. “And, I didn’t want to look like a dick and eat alone.”

At this point we got the point of how you were trying to convey your flirty ness with him. “And?”

“And,” he started, “I was wondering if you’d wanna join me.”

You nodded. “Where we going?”

He shrugged. “Wherever you want, Honey.”

“Don’t tell me that. I can be expensive,” you seemed to purr. Everything about you was making him feel like he was fifteen again and waking up from a wet dream.

He nodded eyes drifting down to your lips. “You’d be worth every penny. Gimme your number so I can find you after?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched as you walked away from him. He eyed you up and down as your backside was to him. Damn your ass looked good in those jeans.

—

It’d been a pretty long day, but finally it was over. Like promised through text, you and Chris managed to get away from your teams in order to be whisked away in a town car to a bar he said was great.

The two of you talked on your way over. This time you were a little more subdued. Your voice was lower, sensual. It made him feel like someone had hugged his heart and dick at the same time.

He was sitting so close as he’d managed to get the most private booth in the place so the two of you could talk. He was so damn close to you and you hadn’t moved the whole time his arm was around you. In fact, you seemed even closer than before.

He wanted to kiss you so damn bad. “You gotta man?” He asked, before taking a sip of his beer.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ in the word.“You gotta girlfriend?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Been single for a minute.”

You nodded. “Oh damn. You poor thing.” You rested your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah? How long you been single?” He asked grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. That twitch in his hand had finally won. Your skin was just as soft as it looked like it’d be.

You shrugged. “For like a year,” you answered. Liking the feel of his rougher hand against yours. “I get so busy I don’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, same.” He somehow managed to scoot you closer to him. “Then sometimes you meet a cute stranger and then maybe you end up taking them home to smoke.”

You chuckled. “How do you know I smoke?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone in this town smoke?”

You nodded shrugging your shoulders. “True.” You smiled. “Fine.”

 After calling another town car and him paying the tab you were on his way to his place. Chris was still finding ways to touch you. Not that you were complaining that you were sitting so close.

Now the joint was resting between his lip as the television played in the background. Chris let out a big puff of smoke.

You were still sitting way to close. As he grabbed your hand again. Running his thumb across your knuckles. You were telling him a story about this photo shoot you had a few weeks ago that just so happened to be with you in lingerie. Then in turn he told you about a photo shoot he had to do for a free weeks ago where he just so happened to be shirtless the whole time.

Then you started talking about your favorite movies. To him telling you stories about all the shit that went down behind the scenes. Which led to you telling him stories about being on tour. Then you talked about music and he felt someone tug at his heart strings with the way your face lit up when talking about your favorite musicians.

He had to kiss you.

With the joint in between his fingers he leaned down to finally brush his lips against yours. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” his voice once again at that low tone, raspy like he’d just woken up.

“You think so?” You looked up at him so innocently, peering up at him through those lashes.

He took another hit of the joint before leaned back down to your mouth. He blew the smoke into your mouth before kissing you again.

You started to make out deep. Stroking his cheek with your thumb. His tongue slid against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. You moaned into his mouth suddenly feeling all airy. If Chris wasn’t holding onto you, you may have drifted away.

He leaned to the side so he could put out the joint. When both of his hands were free, he put them under your ass so he could get handfuls of each cheek in each hand. Then making it jiggle.

You broke away from him so you could finally pull that top over your head. “Fuck,” he hissed seeing the tops of your breasts. You quickly reconnected your lips. One of his hands grabbed at you through your lacy white bra.

You let out a whimper that was like music to his ears. His mouth trailed down to your neck hoping to kiss you in a spot where you’d be forced to make that noise again. You shivered as his lips left hot opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Then it was time for Chris to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his muscular physique. You put your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him more. He reached behind you to undo your bra. Your nipples all sensitive as they were exposed to the night air. Your body felt all fuzzy as you giggled when he smacked your ass.

His hands reached up to play with them. Fuck it was better than any thought he’d had about them since you’d met. Rubbing your nipples with his thumbs and making you moan.

You got off of him so you could undo your jeans. Except before you could even pull them off, he made you lay on the couch as he slid them off of you. He kissed along your stomach at first. Then he proceeded to take off your jeans and panties at the same time.

When you were finally completely exposed to him, he kissed you again. Then his mouth started practically worshipping your breasts. He licked your nipples with the tip of his tongue. He came to suck it wanting to hear that goddamn whimper again and then reeling at the other little noises you were making. “Fuck,” you moaned. He gave your other boob similar treatment before kissing a trail down to your lower half.

He could have died and gone to heaven after seeing that pretty pussy. He flicked his tongue over your clit loving the taste of your arousal. He’d pushed your thighs up so he could properly feast on you. Fuck you were so wet for him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs so he could get as deep as possible. You were moaning so much for him. The noises you were making were fucking pornographic.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

He stopped to kiss up your body so he could kiss your lips again. You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers stayed on your pussy as he kissed you again. You gasped against him, throwing your head back.

His moved to your tits again. His tongue was craving to suck on them again as he finger fucked you. As you exploded around his fingers he decided to rub your clit to draw it out.

“Daddy!” You screamed.

“What’d you just call me, Baby?” He asked still rubbing your clit as you clung to him.

“I- I,” you stuttered, but it was hard to talk when he was doing that to you. “Ugh, Daddy!”

“That’s a good girl,” he kissed you again.

 He finally carried you off to his bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist. He’d taken you apart so easily. Like he’d done this to you so many times before. Instead he’d just been thinking about it so much he didn’t want to fuck it up.

He sat down with you still wrapped around him. His jeans were still on, but you could feel him through his jeans and fuck. He felt so huge against you as he moved you right over it.

His fingers reached between you two so he could rub your clit again. Chris wasn’t your usual type, but you couldn’t deny that he was fine as fuck. Or that he was dangerously charming.

When he’d finally taken off his jeans and underwear, he sat you back in his lap so you were straddling him. He was holding you tight against him so even when you tried to sink down onto him because fuck you wanted to so bad, he wouldn’t let you. Like he needed you to know who was in control.

“Ride my face,” he said, slapping your ass.

You giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah you taste fucking delicious.”

You looked down at him as you could see his eyes peeking out. From underneath you. He really was eating you up like you’d be his last meal.

He felt like he was in heaven with his head between your legs. Like you were sweeter than any candy he could ever eat. Better than jelly beans. “Oh my god,” you breathed out a moan.

You moved your hips trying to ride his tongue, but it was almost too much. His beard was burning your thighs only adding to how good it felt. You grabbed at his hair while he smacked your ass again, palming it in his large hand.

He felt like he could taste your orgasm. The way you leaked out into his mouth. He didn’t even care that you were making such a big mess on his face. “Daddy, yes!” You gasped. You put your hands on the headboard to brace yourself because as your stomach started to tighten you could tell this one was going to be much more powerful. “I’mgonnacum,” you rattled off.

He chuckled into you pushing his fingers into you again making it so you had to ride his hand, too. How the fuck was this man able to get you like this and you hadn’t even taken his dick yet. Fuck you needed to take it.

He didn’t even let up when it happened. It was like he wanted more of you. He was drinking you up. Wanting to have you at his mercy. Like this was the last chance he’d get to feel your pussy on his tongue and he needed to take advantage.

It took two more orgasms for him to finally let you up. You fell down onto the bed completely spent. He didn’t even care as he kissed you hungrily. Quickly pushed you onto your back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and didn’t even give you time to realize what was happening before he slammed into you.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you around his dick. And fuck did it feel perfect. You were so tight. So wet. So damn sexy with the way your mouth formed into an O because how was he moving his hips like that.

It should have been illegal for him to fuck you like this. For him to leave your pussy craving more from him. How the hell were you supposed to come back from this.

He fucked into your spot like he already knew where it was. Like the two of you had done this so many times before. All you could do was take it. All you wanted to do was take it and take it and never stop taking it.

You were everything he’d thought you’d be since he’d saw that first fucking music video. Your sparkly acrylic nails scratched his back. “Fuck me, Chris.”

He slapped your ass. “You call me Daddy,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you buried your face into his neck. He should have not been able to fuck you this well. You bit your lip, as he put his forehead against yours.

The burn from the way he split you open was so good. This couldn’t have been the last time the two of you did this. Not when he was this deep inside of you.

The first time you came around him he pulled out of you so he could lay beside you. Then because he didn’t give a fuck about how it was too much or whatever you kept saying he made you sink down on his dick.

Your pussy creamed down his length. You kept telling yourself that you couldn’t take it even though you were riding his dick like such a good girl. The bed was shaking so hard you were scared you might break something.

This was about to be a long night.

—

Chris couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this fucked out. It was like when he thought he had enough you’d pounce on him and when you thought you’d had enough he’d do the same to you. Until finally the two of you passed out with his arms wrapped around you and you buried into his chest.

He kissed your forehead, nuzzling your face with his nose. He felt content for the first time in a long time with you there. Like you were meant to be there in his arms. You’d barely gone to bed at four in the morning so it was no wonder you were still asleep at ten a.m.

When he realized the time, he groaned because he was so late. He reached for his phone seeing the tons of missed called. “Baby?” He shook you gently.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you finally peeked up at him. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten thirty,” he answered.

“Fuck,” you groaned, but didn’t even attempt to move. “My managers gonna kill me.”

He grinned because you looked so cute half asleep. “Same.” He pecked your lips. “Good morning, though.”

“Good morning,” you replied saying fuck it in your head as you stayed where you were. You were too comfortable to move. 

“We should do this again sometime,” he said, tracing patterns into your skin.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

“You busy tomorrow?”

“I have some stuff to do in the morning, but I’m free after nine.”

“Perfect. How about a late dinner?”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

He chuckled. “Of course.” His phone went off right when he was about to kiss you and he groaned because as much as he’d prefer spending time with you, he did have obligations to get to. “Hello?”

“Chris!” His managers voice boomed. “Where the hell have you been! Have you seen Twitter today?”

“No, I just woke up,” he said with a frown on his face. You looked up at him noticing the change in his tone.

“Well, you’re trending. They posted the interview online and fans are going insane.”

“What?” He said. “Hold on let me look.”

It wasn’t just him trending on Twitter. So were you. Together. He shook you so you could look before clicking on the thread.

Damn Chris was looking at her like she was a whole meal.

And at that moment Chris Jamal Evans was ready to risk it all

He over here just eye fucking her

There were a lot. Plus, all the memes people had posted. He hadn’t realized he made it that obvious. You started giggling not being able to stop yourself as he scrolled. “Wait is that her? Is she there?” The faint voice of his manager came through the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” he said before hanging up. “I am so sorry.”

You were still laughing as you grabbed your own phone so you could read through more. “It’s okay. Just glad I didn’t make it obvious that I was doing the same.”

“I knew it!” He laughed before tickling your side.

You tried to push his hand away and all that lead to was a wrestling match where he pinned you down. “Daddy!” You squealed which again music to his ears.

You struggled against him until you finally broke your hand away so you could reach forward to grab at his dick that seemed to awaken immediately under your touch. “That’s cheating!” He protested with a laugh.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You better not start something you can’t finish.”

You smirked. “Oh, I can finish it.”

“You know, I can afford to take the day off,” he noted realizing he was not letting you out of this bed anytime soon.

“Me, too.”

He leaned forward capturing your lips with his. Not even caring about morning breath. Just needing to feel you. As he turned you over so he could fuck you from behind he realized that it was true. He was ready to risk it all for you.

And it was pretty funny to watch you laugh at all the memes afterwards.