#one of the perks of sending things early is that I have time to prepare in advance ;)) not a bad thing at all <333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[robo-milky]

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY!!!! WISH YOU ALL NICE THINGS!!!

(Sending it now bc i wont be on tumblr on the day of - uni kicking my ass in the homestretch)

Hope you like it!

[Cloche’ Birthday Bash]

My, it seems our Birthday Boy(Girl) is overwhelmed with the love poured into this. Please don’t take her hesitance the wrong way— she’ll cherish it with all her heart, seriously. She’ll be embarrassed to fill one of the empty Ramshackle frames with it, so I’ll let you in on a little secret. Once the party is over, and all the streamers and confetti are cleaned up, it will mounted securely on her bedroom wall— polished weekly.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Epilogue

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: This is the end 😭

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

SIX YEARS LATER

While the others were busy dragging themselves out of bed in time to the Day Court’s breathings, you and Azriel were already wide awake and watching as the sun trickled down the windows and onto the floor. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. Have I changed your mind at all? 

Your mate smiled at the sound of your voice in his mind. He almost preferred it to speaking out loud where curious ears might be listening. Cassian loved to tease you about it endlessly. 

“You’re worse than Feyre and Rhys,” He would lament, “Will we ever hear your voices again?” 

Hmmmmmmmm. Azriel considered your question. I’m afraid not, my love. I shall remain a creature of the night forever, no matter if I am married and mated to you.

You wake up earlier than me most mornings. 

Just because it’s true doesn’t mean I enjoy it. 

You blew against his hair playfully and laughed when his shadows were whisked away like leaves in the wind. 

“My Lord.” The attendant curtsied. Her cream-colored robes kissed the floor as she carried your dress in her arms. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement. Eyes glittering with joy.

There were three others behind her. One male carried Azriel’s crowning suit and the two females held boxes made from pearl and gold. 

“I hope you’ve slept well. We’ve come to prepare you and Lady Y/n for today’s events. If you would so kindly follow Arryn.” 

The male bowed low in introduction, and it took all his court training to keep him from jumping back when Azriel’s shadows crawled over his shoes in curiosity. 

Azriel looked back to where you sat in front of the vanity brushing the tangles from your freshly washed hair. One small shake of your head was all he needed to see before turning to the attendants. 

“I’m afraid your services won’t be necessary,” Azriel said apologetically.

Her joyful eyes fell. She had been looking forward to helping you dress. It wasn’t every day that a Court could enjoy a formal crowning ceremony, and even rarer that a High Lord should claim his heirs with so much love. 

She didn’t protest when shadows came to carry your clothes inside, but one of the other attendants did perk up with concern to mention, “But Our Lady’s hair! Surely she will need some assistance.” She looked on hopefully, clutching her pearl box a little closer to her chest.

Azriel smiled kindly. “I’ll send for help if needed. I promise.” 

With the hope of that promise lingering in the air, the attendants bowed and departed, taking slow steps in case either you or your mate should change your minds at the last second. They were severely disappointed when you didn’t. 

Perhaps we should have let them stay. You said. Azriel carefully laid out the boxes of jewels and gold, each piece shining with the light of a hundred suns. They looked so excited. 

Azriel pressed his thumb beneath your chin, fingers ghosting over your throat as he tilted your neck back to look at him. Hazel eyes flashed in the early morning sunlight and his lips were warm against yours, sweet like honey and bergamot. 

Perhaps. Azriel hummed. But today, I want the honor of attending the Darling of Day. 

Is that what people are calling me?

I’ve heard rumors. He brushed his lips against your neck. And I have it on good authority that the rumors are true.

Shadows curled in answer to your raised eyebrow.

And attend to you he did. He braided your hair, securing the front pieces away from your face with pins made of starlight and sunbeams. His heart stuttered when he imagined how radiant you would look after your father laid a circlet of gold over your brow.

He laced up your dress, spreading kisses along the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. Then he knelt to the floor to clasp your white silk shoes. The drag of his fingers up your calf had you smiling as he tied the final bow.

Another time, my love. You told him, pulling Azriel up with the daintiest grip on his chin. 

He pressed a kiss to your palm and the corners of his lips pulled up in a smile. What a shame. He nipped at your fingers. I’ll hold you to that promise. 

I would expect nothing less. 

Azriel was quick to pull on his Day Court attire and refused to let you take your time with him the way he had done for you. 

You snatched the Day Court pin from the vanity before Azriel could—a circular sunbeam with a sword, pen, and iris stalk crossed in the center.

Let me do this! Just this!

Your stubbornness showed when you climbed onto the bed and did your best to hold the pin out of reach. 

I’m not about to be crowned an heir. He reminded you, holding onto your waist protectively.

But you will be beside me when it happens. You must look presentable. 

Don’t I always, my love?

Careful. You’re beginning to sound like Rhysand. 

He lifted you up and off the bed with ease. Carefully, reverently, you pinned the gold piece to his coat. Just above his heart. 

He liked to pretend things like this didn’t affect him, but he was grinning like a fool as he finished buttoning the sleeves of his coat. Black velvet lined with gold and silver cut out his strong silhouette. And after little persuasion, he let you crawl into his lap and paint the corners of his eyes with gold and black. 

“Y/n!” Elain called your name from down the hall. Pale gold sleeves bubbled off her shoulders, light and airy as she hugged you close. “Oh you look lovely.” 

“As do you. Not that that’s anything new.” 

She brightened faster than a flower in spring. Lucien wrapped his arm tightly around Elain’s waist, ring flashing on his finger. 

“We thought you’d never arrive.” Lucien said. Folds of pale-golden fabric lay draped across his chest. A pattern of Spring and Autumn leaves trailed along the selvage. “Were you preoccupied?” 

“Oh hush.” You slapped your brother’s arm. 

You and Azriel were the darker mirrors of Elain and Lucien as you lined up beside one another behind the gilded doors. On the other side were hundreds of the Day Court’s most prestigious families, scholars, and courtiers, and the odd High Lord or two. 

Helion’s voice cut through the chatter, laughter ringing through every word.

“Are you ready?” Lucien asked from your left. You took your brother’s arm, some of Azriel’s shadows winding down your hand like jewels. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be. And you?”

“I am. I’m ready.” He squared his shoulders back. This was it. For the first time in decades, he would be a recognized member of his family — his true family. He would wander no more. “Thank you, Y/n. For everything.” 

The trumpets began to blare. The crowd’s talk dimmed to a low, excited murmur. Years ago, the sound of so many people would have sent shivers crawling down your spine like spider legs. 

No more.

Azriel slipped his hand into yours and squeezed once, twice, before the doors opened and the crowd burst apart like fireworks at the sight of the new heirs of Day.

The crown did not lay heavy against Lucien’s brow as he charmed courtiers with an energy that had everyone wondering how they could have missed the truth about Helion’s son. He was everything a High Lord’s son should be—polite, kind, and charming to an almost lethal degree. He took after his father in his mannerisms… mannerisms Helion had been stripped of the moment Aurora Vanserra walked into the room on her eldest son’s arm. 

You shot Lucien a look, and a look was all he needed before he was steering Helion towards the scarlet-crowned pair. 

“Lucien!” Helion pulled back in alarm. 

“Shhhhhh.” 

“Y/n—” Your father looked to you for aid, eyes wider than a deer at the wrong end of an arrow. 

You and Azriel waved him goodbye.

Helion’s stomach was a lead weight dragging behind him as he crossed the marble dance floor. 

Aurora Vanserra flickered like candlelight behind a window. Something for Helion to gaze upon but never touch. Something to love from a safe distance so he could never snuff out that previous light. 

Red hair cascaded down her back in braids laced with gold and emeralds. When she turned around and looked upon the face of her lover, Helion felt a familiar fist around his heart squeeze a little tighter. Mercifully, she looked just as flustered to see him. Although she looked a great deal more graceful when hiding her emotions. She’d always been good at that. 

“Helion.” His name was a breath from her lungs. 

“Aurora. Hi.” 

Helion had hoped the years might fall away. That the walls they’d both placed around themselves as protection might shatter at the gentlest tapping of his fingers. Alas, time was more stubborn than that and it would not break. But that did not mean it would not bend. 

You, Lucien, and Eris both watched carefully from your corners of the room as Helion quietly took Aurora out onto the balcony for some peace and quiet. 

Lucien worried that he’d made a grave error. Some miscalculation of hope. But then he saw his mother smile — the first true smile he’d seen in years — and suddenly the weight around his shoulders seemed to shrink. 

Helion and Aurora Vanserra stayed on the balcony all night, hands dancing closer and closer together but never quite touching. Lucien and Elain made their rounds through the crowds, feeling at ease at each other’s sides as they kissed cheeks and sprinkled hope throughout the Day Court.

And there, tucked away into the little alcove just left of the quartet’s humble stage, stood a Shadowsinger and Inkbird resplendent in black and gold. Heads bowed together. Hands touching. And smiles on their lips as they spoke without a whisper of sound between them. 

<- Previous Chapter

______________

Author's Note:

WE ARE DONNEEEEEE!!!! Don't mind me while I go cry in the corner now. Final word count was over 130K which is the most intensive writing project I've ever worked on AND COMPLETED!

I truly cannot thank you all enough for reading this story. Whether you were there from its very beginnings in December of 2023 or whether you stumbled upon this story more recently and got to binge read it all at once, I want to thank the writing/reading community for inspiring me to continue. There were multiple instances where I had to take short and long writing breaks and worried I had lost my passion, but seeing your comments and inbox messages or even seeing your little handles pop up in my activities section was a little extra gas poured into my tank so I could keep on going.

I think I'm going to take a little bit of time off (but this time it's planned lol) to get back into reading and to work on other writing projects (and also finally upload stuff to AO3 like I've been meaning to for the past month). So, I will be back soon with more writing stuff (but also don't worry I am always lurking on this app in some way shape or form).

Thank you all once again! Now that this is finished, I would appreciate reblogs so people know it's finished and ready to read, but also no pressure at all! 😊

Love,

Florence Byrne

[just-zy]

My Miss President (I)

pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader!

summary: Jenna was never the type to fall for someone like Y/N, someone who'd always end up in fights, someone you'd often see doing stupid things outside the school premises, someone who always look so arrogant but is an absolute sweetheart. Jenna wasn't into those, considering she's what the school calls 'Ms. President' aka, Miss Perfect. She'd never, right?

A/N: long assed summary, wth.. AU!! (btw they're like, both on the same block..ermm yea)

Warnings!: my shitty ass writing, tad bit violence, bullying, cuss words, lemme know if I have a bunch that needs to be put on warning! (it's fluff I promise..)

part 2 || Masterlist

Jenna's POV:

Such an early bright morning ruined by the one and only, Y/N Y/L/N. What a charmer, she is. For someone who dislikes coming to school, she sure does come to school so early countless of times, actually. I wonder why.

"Hey there, Miss Perfect!" The quiet hallway now echoes her voice, sure as heck taunting me. "What do you want, Y/L/N?" I halt my movements, clutching the folders on my hands, folders that I need to get to the vice principals office.

I hear her chuckling lightly that'd make my head throb for hours. "Why so grumpy in such an early morning-" I turn to face her and start eyeing her up and down. "Start guessing, genius." I rolled my eyes at her, and walked the other way. She didn't back down as she chased me from behind.

"For someone well kept, you sure are hot headed.." That got me standing still, turning my head over to my left, where she was holding her hand to her mouth, her eyes wrinkling, and her body shaking. "What's so funny?" I sneered at her.

"You're cute when you're angry like that."

"Mhm. And seeing you in detention gets me going, to be real with you."

★

The students here weren't really fond of me too much, some say the only reason why they voted for me was because of my first impression towards the debate.

She's too bossy, too strict, too uptight, they say.

My top priority was sending off bullies to detention, even to the vice principal if it ever gets out of hand, because who wants bullies just running about around the school hallways, harassing and throwing insults at random students? But, I guess thats just the treatment I'd get for tonight, not that I was aware or prepared, really.

...

As I patiently waited for my mother to pick me up by the side of the road, in front of the school yard, I heard someone call for me.

"Hey Jenna!"

Before I could even set my eyes on who called for me, I was instantly splashed with a shit amount of water right on my face. It was freezing too.

I audibly gasped then wiped away the liquid in my eyes, my spine shivered after who I set my gaze onto. Jordan and his two other little minions. The school bully, just great.

"Oh– oops! I'm so sorry, I've been really clumsy all day, Miss President..." Both of his associates surrounded me while I shook from the cold wind, it didn't help while I had a thin shirt covering me.

Jordan began moving towards me, just inches away, "What? Who are you going to call now? Huh?" His friends chuckled as if what he said was the funniest thing that's ever gotten out of his mouth. They'd only ever do it because they don't want to end up friendless anyways.

He ushered putting himself on me, pushing me by my shoulders, hard. Making me accidentally slipping on the roads curb.

"Fuck!"

My ears perked up on the audible cuss as he saw me start to massage my ankle.

"W– We have to go, Jordan." His associates have began taking a pity on me just by seeing the state I'm in.

"Go where, exactly?"

After that, I couldn't hear nor see well any longer, considering the tears blurring my eyesight. I was at the brim of breaking, hopefully this doesn't make me skip a few classes.

I wiped my tears away, not a single movement without shivering because of the cold breeze hitting me continuously.

"Y/N– I swear it was an accident—"

Y/N?

"Oh? So you just accidentally poured all that shit onto Jenna?"

"Look– why are you even defending her? She practically sends you off to detention almost everyday!–"

"Just because I deserve that treatment doesn't mean I should get even with her. She's the president for a reason, for crying out loud, let her be when you can't stop doing shit like these!"

Hearing someone defend me who I've constantly put on detention feels weird, and sounds weird.

"Now let me get even with you, Jordan."

I set my gaze towards them and saw Y/N practically throwing herself onto Jordan, her right fist making contact with his cheekbone, hearing a clear crack, making him recoil away from Y/N's fist. No doubt that'll leave a fucked up purple bruise tomorrow. Not even a minute later, Jordan retreated even before everything got out of hand.

"Yeah, run along now Jordan!"

I still had my eyes lingering all over her, how her knuckles were already reddening, how her chest heaved, how her hair got all frizzy because she had her hood on, how her eyes were now staring right back at me–

"You okay?"

I couldn't contain myself, why did I feel warm inside when she asked me that? When not even 10 seconds ago I felt like I was freezing to death.

"Uhm, just cold.."

My eyes felt drowsy, and my ankle was starting to hurt real bad. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Thankfully, my phone didn't get a single droplet from the situation earlier.

Mama

sorry baby, completely lost track of time

was sent off on another shift, call on cab, k?

I'll b sending u money, i love you

Well, that was my last straw. I sobbed by the side of the road, my phone was literally hanging onto 2%, I totally forgot to charge it earlier this morning because I was running late. And I had no extra money to even get on a cab.

"Hey? You good? Here's my hoodie if it'll help you feel better."

I see her beginning to take off her hoodie, she insisted I took off my soaked shirt off, but I completely shut that idea down.

"Come on, you'll get sick if you'd still have that on! Okay– how about uh, you put on the hoodie, then you take off your wet shirt, I'll cover you."

"Okay.."

She helped me put on the hoodie, and looked away while I was practically struggling to get my shirt off.

After a few moments, I finally got it out, the shirt wasn't entirely wet, but she persisted that I still changed. I hastily placed my shirt in my satchel.

"Finished, happy?"

"Very. Now, what happened? Are you okay?"

She was looking at me with such sincerity, her eyes held so much care, I wouldn't be surprised if I'd folded right then.

What?

"My mom can't pick me up– and I have no extra money for a cab. Do you.. perhaps, have extra money?" I hoped that she did, because I can't even stand, for the love of God.

"Uh sorry no, I don't. Why can't you just walk–"

"I slipped and got a sprain."

She creases her brows at me then huffs, she faces her back at me then holds her hand behind her back.

"I'm not getting on your back, Y/N."

She grumbles at my complaints, but she wasn't backing down either. "Do you wanna get home earlier or not? It's almost curfew."

This is so embarrassing.

Gritting my teeth, I began moving to get to her back, but in the process I accidentally placed pressure on my fractured foot, I whined at the nagging pain that coursed through leg. This was gonna be the end of me.

"Loop your hands around my neck so you don't fall off."

"Yeah yeah." I roll my eyes at her as I relentlessly begin hugging her neck gently.

The position I was in right now had me overthinking. Why the heck is she helping me?

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Closing my eyes as I sighed heavily.

"Why are you helping me? Why didn't you just leave me after you've finished chasing them away?" Grumbling on her ear as I said that. "I'm surprised you're not like them, considering you do get yourself in trouble for bullying, bullies."

She lightheartedly chuckles, a sound I'm starting to get enamored of, she wasn't half bad.

"I'm not heartless, Jenna. I help people that I care for."

That got me to a sense, why, why did you care for me when not once did we ever have a civil conversation? Not once did we see eachother eye to eye and not throw banters at eachother.

Why.

"Maybe because it was of how you'd be the only person who can put up with me back-and-forth."

Oh.

"Aren't you.. you know, tired with how long you've been carrying me?"

"It's alright, we're almost at your house, see?"

I gently lift my head up and caught a glimpse of the familiar house I've grown in, "So fast?" I questioned quietly.

"Why? Starting to get comfy back there?"

My cheeks felt warm, flustered, I held on her neck instantly, adding pressure on the way I held onto her. Hearing her cough, I stopped and began laughing. All I received in return were grumble of complaints and discontents.

"We're here, Jenna."

That left me almost disappointed. Almost.

She sets me down before knocking on the door three times. "Here's, you."

We stared at each other while waiting on someone to open the door and escort me in. Her hand is still on my waist, keeping me on my toes. She had this look in her eyes that I can't seem to catch on to.

Someone finally opened the door, there stood my sister, Aliyah. "Jenna! Oh- what's wrong with your foot?"

"Who's this?" My sister inspected what was currently happening. "Why's her hand on your waist."

Always the never ending questions and the probing.

"I sprained my ankle, and Y/N this is Aliyah, Aliyah – Y/N." I tiredly quip. After she looked like she got a puzzle right, only then she helped me get inside. Gosh.

Before I could get in, I held onto Y/N's hand one last time and pulled her towards me, my lips making direct contact with her cheek, our lips almost touching. I didn't dare look her in the eyes after, so I ushered my sister inside.

Practically limping my way in and closing the door harshly right on her face.

Goddamnit, why did I do that?!

______+______

Y/N: Holy shit. The prettiest girl in school just kissed me. On the cheek. Holy. Shit.

*

A: what was that..

J: fuck, I think I like the girl.

A/N: ;))

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/thicciardo/761905055702122496?source=share

Having big thoughts about Daniel being a photographer and Max being still a F1 driver kajgkajgksjjg. Maybe Daniel needs the money so he takes a job being a F1 photographer and it's not his passion exactly but it pays well. He is going to take pictures of cars going vroom, travel everywhere and being paid for it (so he can take pics of what he really loves. What it is? I don't know).

But he didn't know Max. Like, he was aware that Max was F1 world champion??? But he didn't expect Max to be so breathtakingly beautiful. So maybe he has a little crisis about it. Idksugid. I have to go to sleep but ESIIIIII DANIEL BEING A PHOTOGRAPHER 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Hello lovely I miss you!!! I have been having big thoughts about this since I saw your ask last night, but I only have this little thing to offer. Might revisit in the future because I love this idea very much <3

Daniel doesn't exactly know how he finds out about the job offer. He thinks maybe Blake mentioned it to him, having heard about it from a friend of a friend, but it's not really important.

It wouldn't be a bad gig: being able to travel the world, mingling with famous people, filling his portfolio, and getting paid for it. Sure, cars and millionaires aren't exactly his preferred subjects, but he can look past it for that kind of salary and perks.

So he goes over his CV, trying to make himself sound more professional than he feels, and sends it. You miss every chance you don't take and all that.

He's not expecting to be called back, to be honest. Even fattening his portfolio with all the people photos he has, good or less good, he knows it's mostly wildlife and nature, not exactly what a formula 1 team might look for, and yet, two weeks later, he wakes up to an email with three suggested dates for an online interview and a we'd be excited to offer you a position as soon as possible.

And three weeks after that, he's stepping on a plane, flight fully paid and brain already adding up his new salary to the savings in his bank account.

--

The scanner beeps when Daniel puts his pass against it, a thrill of excitement traveling down his spine at the small sound, and then he finds himself in the paddock.

It's still early, so it's not as crowded as it will for sure become later, but it still makes him think of the savannah, people milling around minding their business, swayed from time to time by the sudden arrival of a celebrity or a driver, circles forming and breaking, flocks in the grass.

It settles his mind to think about this as another wildlife shoot, as if this wasn't a stepping stone towards his dream, but the open door to it already, and he makes himself smile by taking a picture of Lewis Hamilton like he would of a leopard, half hidden behind a plant, light catching his earring like a fleeting spot. Even the cars have something animal about them, growling engines and opening wings, wheels pushing the ground like running deer.

The Red Bull hospitality building (a waterhole, his brain suggests) welcomes him with air conditioning and handshakes, both from people he's met already the one time he has gone to the factory, and from strangers, too many names being thrown at him to try and remember them.

And then there's Max Verstappen.

Daniel hadn't met him at the factory. He knows who he is, obviously. Even if formula 1 isn't his preferred flavor of motorsport, he is not completely clueless about it, and he had brushed up his knowledge before coming here, just to try and make sure he doesn't embarrass himself. And yet, it is different to meet him in person.

Daniel had watched two videos of him to prepare himself: one about his racing, and one interview. The racing had been incredible. The interview had been so awkward and stiff Daniel had spent several minutes looking at the ceiling, trying to think about how to justify his yet-to-be-shot photos being shit without saying your driver is the worst model I've ever seen.

He doesn't look bad, of course he doesn't, he is actually quite handsome, but there's such a stiffness and coldness around him, one that screams rude entitled bastard from a mile away, and Daniel does not work well with that. He has actually been wondering if he had been chosen, with his warm toned photos and his soft focus, just to try and soften his edges a little.

So he's not surprised by the firmness of the handshake, or the quick Max as an answer to Daniel's hello I'm Daniel, it's great to meet you!, both exactly what he had been expecting, but then Max smiles and suddenly Daniel's fingers are itching for his camera.

Max's eyes crinkle when he smiles.

His cheeks bunch up, plush lips stretching wide, the freckle Daniel had already noticed almost disappearing, and suddenly it's prairie crocus in the alpine tundra, color and spring impossibly breaking the cold.

Daniel wants to capture the wrinkles by his eyes in golden light, wants to steal the sparkle in the blue, frame it like sunshine on the ocean, wants to take the blush on his cheek and print it, press his fingertips to every magnified pore. He can't wait to see him put on his helmet, wants to see the arch of his nose framed by the visor.

Suddenly, from mostly neutral bystander, he's turned into avid fan, desperately wishing Max wins, to shoot him through champagne drops.

Maybe this job will be his easiest one yet, after all.

[cherrycola27]

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Enemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Master List Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 1: The Election

The news of Bradley's heroism spread like wildfire across the media outlets, causing him and Jake to sky rocket in the polls.

Two weeks later, it was Election Day. You were up bright and early, putting the finishing touches on his victory speech. You didn't prepare one if he lost, that wasn't going to happen.

You'd been keeping track, and with all the early votes counted, Bradley had a slight lead. You watched results come in all morning.

At 9:30, you, Bradley, Jake, and the rest of the campaign staff went to the polls to vote. You were buzzing as you clicked the box next to his name.

You'd been busy all morning fielding phone calls, sending emails, and answering questions. The only thing keeping you going was iced coffee and sheer adrenaline.

It was approaching 1pm, and Bradley noticed he hadn't seen you eat anything all day. He came over to your desk with a sandwich and a bottle of water.

"Can't have my main girl passing out on me." He said as he placed them on your desk.

You rolled your eyes but thanked him before shoveling down your food.

When the polls closed at six on the East Coast, Bradley and Jake's lead had increased. The three of you sat with baited breath as one by one, the news outlets from across the nation announce the official closing of the polls. Once the West Coast polls had closed, you still had another three hours to wait until Hawaii and Alaska closed, but you knew the six total electoral votes they held wouldn't matter. Especially when California declared their winner.

Bradley and Jake were sitting comfortably at 238, either projected or confirmed electoral votes. Even if, by some chance, they didn't win California, their opponents wouldn't have enough to overtake them to win.

It's exactly 2:13 in the morning D.C. time when the official announcement is made.

The office was quiet. You'd sent everyone home for the night. You, Bradley, and Jake had stayed huddled in your office. Jake had just stepped to the bathroom when the news came through.

Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw was the president-elect and will be the 47th president of the United States. He had done it. You had done it.

You and Bradley jumped up and down, screaming your heads off like a bunch of kids. You went to hug him, but in a moment, that caught you off guard. He grabbed your face and kissed you.

You both froze as he pulled away. "I—uh— sorry—" He stuttered.

"It's fine. We just got caught up in the excitement. No harm, no foul." You brushed it off. "We can pretend it didn't happen. No worries." You smiled at him.

You turned away to watch the announcement again and to answer your phone. Your mom was calling you to congratulate you. You missed the flash of hurt that crossed his face.

"I heard the yelling from down the hall! Did we do it? Did we win?" Jake bursts into the room out of breath from running.

"Yeah, man, we did." Bradley tells him in a sullen voice.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" Jake asks, looking between you on your phone and Bradley.

"No, I'm just—" Bradley shakes his head. He doesn't know what to say.

"Rooster, you're going to be the fucking president! Smile! Scream! Cheer! Call Maverick and the gang while I get the bubbly!" Jake shakes him before heading to the kitchen. "We won the fucking White House!" Jake cheers as he heads down the hall.

.......................

After the election, you stepped into your roll of Cheif of Staff seamlessly. You made sure everything was ready for inauguration day, which was finally here.

An unexpected perk of your new position was the clothes that came with it. With you being in the public eye, fashion brands were reaching out to send you clothes all the time. It came in handy for days like today.

For Bradley's inauguration, you were wearing an Alexander McQueen coat dress in a lavender shade. It had an asymmetrical skirt and pearl button details. You'd paired it with a nude pair of Jimmy Choo pumps, pearl earrings, and a set of simple layered silver necklaces. You'd taken care to make sure Jake and Bradley coordinated with you. Purple had been a theme during their campaign, and you planned to continue that during their term.

You were waiting with Bradley, Jake, and a few other officials when a member of the inaugural planning team came up to the three of you.

"Excuse me, Ms. Wiseman, Mr. Bradshaw, Mr. Seresin. We seem to have a problem." He spoke.

"What? Is there a security threat?" You asked, ready to take action if needed.

"No, ma'am, a logistical issue. We have no one to hold the Bible." He clarified.

"What?" Bradley furrowed his brows. You sighed. How could you have forgotten that.

He looks at you for clarification as you explain, "Traditionally, the First Lady holds the Bible or sacred text that the new president gets sworn in upon. But you don't have a First Lady. So I guess we could get—"

"You're going to hold it for me." Bradley states, cutting you off before you can say anything else.

"Excuse me?" You look at him baffled.

"I said you're going to hold it for me." He crosses his arms over his chest in a matter of fact way.

"Why? Because I'm the highest ranking member of your team or because I'm a woman who needs to fill a specific gender role?" You shoot back at him.

"Because I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. You made this possible." He tells you. Your gaze softens, and you relax your shoulders.

"Fine." You sigh. You don't have the time to argue with him.

..............

You can't hear the crowd over the rush of blood in your ears. You're standing on the steps of the Capital Building, Bible in hand, just as Bradley is about to be sworn in. He places his hand on the cover, and you give him a smile as he repeats the oath of office.

Cameras click and flash, and it takes everything in your power not to jump up and down as soon as the Cheif Justice shakes his hand and says "Congratulations Mr. President."

It was real. It had happened. You had done it. You let out a sigh that you had been holding in for over a year as you put on a picture-perfect smile for the camera before getting ready for the inaugural parade.

..................

After the parade, your things have been moved into your room in the White House. You'd been given the Queen's Room. You rolled your eyes when you heard that was where you would be living, but you were thankful to have your own tucked away area to yourself.

You were finishing getting ready for the inaugural ball. You'd traded out your lavender suit for a deep burgundy, off the shoulder ballgown. It had a tasteful slit, and most importantly, pockets for you to keep your phone and other necessities in with out having to worry about a purse.

Your hair was swept up in a low bun. You'd paired the outfit with delicate diamond earrings and a diamond tennis bracelet. You worn classy makeup, but a red lip, the same shade of your dress, adorned your face.

You had just fixed your earpiece to make sure it was out of sight when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You called out as you fiddled with an earring in the mirror.

"Hey, I—wow." Bradley stepped in. He paused to take in your appearance. Sure he'd seen you dressed up before, but nothing like this.

"You look beautiful." He told you with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you." You smiled at him. He had come in here for a reason, but now he couldn't remember what it was. Every thought in his brain went away the the moment your red lips quirked up into a smile.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. President?" You goaded him.

"Oh—urm—my tie." He gestured to it. "You always tie my tie." He looked at you sheepishly.

You let out a breathy laugh before striding across the room to help him.

Your perfectly manicured fingernails made quick work of his tie. "It's black this time." He remarked.

"Thought a black bow tie would go nicely with your tuxedo." You tell him. "And you're wearing red. What happened to the purple?" He joked with you.

"I'm wearing burgundy, which is a purple based red." You shoot back, cutting your eyes to look up at him. "Plus, you're official now. We can change it up some. Alright, all done. You look good, Mr. President." You pat his chest and step back.

He catches your wrist before you can walk away. "Wait! I have something for you. A thank you gift." He says.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a long velvet box. He opens in. Inside is a beautiful, oval diamond pendant on a thin silver chain.

"Bradley!" You breathe out. "It's beautiful, but it's too much. I can't accept it." You tell him.

"You can, and you will." He says sternly. "You got me the Oval Office. Thought I'd get you something oval, too." He grins.

"Help me put it on?" You ask him. He nods his head as you move to stand in front of the mirror.

He carefully takes it out of the box and comes to stand behind you. He pauses for a moment and swallows thickly before brushing a few stray hairs from your neck. He doesn't miss the small hitch in your breath.

He brings the chain around you. You hold it in place as he hooks the clasp. His fingers linger for just a moment. You smile at him in the mirror. Your perfume fills his noses. His senses are overwhelmed. He thinks about how easy it would be right now to lean down and place a kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders.

Another knock at the door and a voice in your earpiece causes both of you to jump.

You clear your throat as both of you move to exit.

The party is in full swing when you step onto the stage. The room gues quiet as you walk up to the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you being. "It is my pleasure to introduce to you, President Bradley Bradshaw and Vice President Jacob Seresin!" The crowd applaudes as then men stride out.

They both give speeches and mingle for a bit.

You're happily sipping on champagne when the coordinator for the evening comes up to you. "Ms. Wiseman, it's time for the president's first dance." She informs you.

"No, you must be mistaken. We decided not to do a first dance, seeing as there is no First Lady." You tell her.

"Ma'am, the president himself specifically requested this at the beginning of the evening." She insists.

You groan and set your champagne down. "Where is he?" You ask her. She quickly tells you his location, and you brush past her to find him.

"Y/N! There you are!" Bradley smiles at you. "When were you planning on telling me you changed the schedule? Who are you even going to dance with?" You scold him.

"You." He says. "What? No! I already held the Bible for you. I have filled my stereotypical gender role for the day! I have emails to send and calls to return!" You yell at him.

Before you can do anything else, he snatches your phone out of your hand and tucks it into his suit pocket.

A low warning sound, similar to a growl, leaves your throat as you stare daggers at him.

"Relax. One dance and you can have it back." He tells you. You flare your nostrils and take a deep breath.

"Fine." You grumble out. He takes your arm and loops it around his as he escorts you out to the crowd.

He sweeps you around the room as "I've Had the Time of My Life" is played by the string quartet.

As soon as the music is over, something more lively is played, and everyone joins you on the dance floor. True to his word, he gives you back your phone. As the night winds down, the secret service assures you that they have everything under control and they will come find you if something happens.

You thank them and sneak off from the party. Once you're back in the safety of your room, you press your back against the door and sigh.

One day down, one thousand four-hundred sixty to go.

So I just wanted to say thank you for the love the prologue got! I hope yall enjoyed chapter 1!

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As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden!

[plzfeedmebread]

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 7

word count: 4611

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: smut, light bondage, dirty talk, pregnancy sex, light degradation, p in v, family, fluff, feelings, crying, comfort, acceptance

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long everyone! Hope you enjoy :)))

<previous chapter> | 7 |

The sound of rain pulls you from slumber. The air is thick and humid this morning. You breath deep, the salty air filling your lungs, wiping away the last dregs of sleep.

Your beloved is not beside you; ever the early morning riser that one. Neither are the twins nor Spider, you notice.

With a groan you slowly sit yourself up, having to exert more effort than usual. Once up, your hand moves to the swell of your belly. Shouldn’t be too long now before this one joins your ever-growing little family. You estimate you have about 2 months to go.

You open your home to allow the fresh air in. You reach out to gather some of the cool summer rainwater in your hands, splashing it on your face. You light a small fire in the pit, then set about preparing some meats to cook for breakfast. While those sizzle, you then prepare some fresh fruit that had been left outside your doorstep; the clan often leave you things as their way of helping, knowing you’re due almost any day now.

“Somethin’ smells good,” your ear perk up at the sound of Miles’ voice.

“Good morning, husband,” you greet but don’t turn around. You don’t have to, because before you finish speaking, his arms are already around you. His hot breath tickles the back of your neck as he leaves soft kisses there.

“How’re my best girls this morning?” his hands gently cup the swell of your belly, gently swaying the two of you to some unheard tune. He presses his chest to your bare back, the cool wet skin of his sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Oh? And how do you know we are not blessed with more sons?” You smile at him over your shoulder.

“Father’s intuition sweetheart,” He leans to the side presses a quick kiss to your lips. He pulls back, pressing the side of his face to yours as he peers over your shoulder as you continue preparing fruit.

You hum thoughtfully at his words. You wouldn’t mind having a daughter. Or two. Eywa have mercy if you have another set of twins. Speaking of your children…

“Where are the boys?”

“Spider took them swimming, they’re at the heated pools in the jungle.” You make a noncommittal noise in acknowledgement.

“You know…with the kids busy, we have a little time to ourselves right now…” his hands travel from your belly, slowly tracing the length of your arms, before his hands rest in the crook of your neck. He starts massaging the base of your head with his thumbs. Your eyes close at the pleasurable sensation, moaning unexpectedly.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You tease him with a side eyed look. He grins down at you, eyes glazed over with desire. His gaze alone sends a pleasurable throb straight down to your core.

“Can’t help it darlin’. Seeing you like this, all big, belly swollen, and knowin’ it’s cuz of me? It does somethin’ to a man,” he bites the tip of your ear, and you let out an involuntary whimper; he knows all of your erogenous zones, and they become far more sensitive during pregnancy.

“Show me then my love, show me what I do to you.”

---

He has you trapped between his legs. Your back pressed to his chest as you lean back, head resting on his shoulder as you gasp between moans.

Your legs are draped over his thighs, keeping you spread. One hand gently massages the flesh of your breast, fingers occasionally pinching your pert nipple.

His other hand is busy at your core, 3 fingers deftly working their way in an out of your warm centre, making filthy squelches with each thrust. Your arousal coats his fingers and your thighs in inviting wetness. You are more than ready for him. But he loves playing with you, especially when you are at his mercy.

He removes his middle finger, bringing it to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in your slick. His finger glides over with ease thanks to your gushing nectar.

“Oh fuck…Miles right there—YES!” Your voice is breathless as you beg him for release; the pleasure coursing through you burning hotter as you approach the precipice of desire.

He returns his fingers to your inviting warmth, your walls sucking him in greedily. His fingers meet no resistance with how wet you are. He fucks his fingers into you faster this time, the palm of hand slapping against your clit, sending you further into the throws of passion. The symphony of your pleasure comes crashing down on you; the orgasm hitting you with a resounding crescendo. A rough press to your clit has you squirting much to yours and his delight.

“That’s it baby, you always perform so well for me.” Miles whispers into your ear, nipping at the nape of your neck. The feeling of your inviting walls clenching around his fingers sends blood straight to his hardened aching cock.

This was always the ritual. Always would he bring you to glorious orgasm, before chasing his own pleasure. Even if the two of you had an argument, falling into something in line with hate sex, he made sure to prepare you well. No matter what, you were always at the forefront of his mind.

You rest your entire weight against him, chest heaving with each laboured breath. Your skin is sticky with sweat, pussy throbbing, your release leaking all over the floor. You feel Miles’ hardness press into your lower back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Do you need a minute?” He asks ever to tenderly.

“For you my love? Never.” You turn yourself as much as you can, arms reaching for him. He understands what you want, immediately turning you to him. He pulls your arms around his neck, securing his behind your back, then crashing his lips to yours.

The kiss is bruising. He sucks on your lips, pressing his tongue to yours, drinking you in greedily as though you were destined to fade. He swallows the moan you release into his mouth. His hand moves to the base of your queue and he pulls you back.

Your eyes are mystified, glazed over from residual pleasure, but alight once more at the promise you see in his own eyes. They are dark with want, pupils dilated with heady need. He licks his teeth as he studies your face, a smirk forming on his lips.

He stands up, pulling you with him. You watch him curiously as he moves elsewhere, searching; there is an amusing flick of the tail when he finds it. He holds the item triumphantly in the air before coming back to you.

Ah. Rope.

He always did love restraints.

“You trust me, sweetheart?” You scoff, almost offended he needs to ask you for umpteenth time.

“Since our first night in the Dream my love. Always and forever.” Your smile is matched by his own.

“Hold your hands up, behind your head.” You do as instructed. The rope this not too thick, black and woven with expertise only a machine could craft. It was something you brought with you all those years ago. You figured it would be most useful; nothing hand crafted had yet matched it in quality. What you hadn’t expected was for your mate to use it in such, creative ways. Not that you complain; you were of course more than delighted to engage in his fantasies.

He fastens your wrists together tightly. The length is then wound around your neck, dropping between your breasts before he loops it around your mounds. It lowers through your cleavage and around the back; always he keeps it away from your belly. He nudges your legs apart. The rope is then wrapped around each hip and thigh.

He moves behind you then, pulling your fastened hands behind his head. His hands roam over you in reverence, from the swell of your breasts, to the expanse of your thighs, not a single inch of skin is left unworshipped. He gives the rope a final tug to make sure all is secure.

He kisses the side of your temple, and you feel him take a hold of your queue, joining it with his own. The low guttural moan he makes sends a spark of pleasure down your spine, straight to your cunt. You feel yourself becoming slick once more, not that you need even more prepping in the first place.

He grabs the rest of the rope in his right hand, before wrapping it around your front, nestling his arm between your breasts. He lowers his left hand until it reaches the back of your knee. You know without having to be told, and lift your leg. He holds your leg up as far as you can stretch; you are thankful to be so pliable after all these years. The position has your now aching core wide open, glistening in the fire light as you leak down your own leg.

You let out a soft moan as you feel the hardness of his naked cock rub against your slit, coating himself in your prior release. He lines himself up with your entrance, his head just breaching the opening.

“I love you, [Y/N],” he whispers into your ear before he buries himself in you to the hilt with one hard thrust. The sudden stretch burns in a delightful way, you hope you never get used to his size. You can’t help the sudden yelp of moan.

“Fucking hell baby, you’re so wet. And it’s all for me. My perfect little mate, with her perfect little cunt.”

The filth of his words causes a whimper to fall from your lips, but your walls clentch the scorching member inside you. Miles lets out a shaking laugh laced with pleasure.

“Pretty little thing you are. Always. So. Fucking. Perfect!” Each word is punctured with a hard thrust in and out of you. His long cock caressing the soft spongy flesh of your walls, finding that special spot that drives you wild and beyond reason. Greedily your walls clamp around him, begging his release and your own.

“You like that, darling? You’re always such a needy bitch in heat. Like it when your mate talks to you like that, huh?” He pulls on the rope, tightening the restraints all around you. The skin under the rope becoming warmer and reddening. You let out a straggled cry, mouth agape, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

The pleasure mounting in you growing with every passing moment. Your hands find purchase on his braid, holding on tight. He groans into your ear, the sound somewhere between a moan and a growl. It reverberates through your bones, to know your mate is so in the throes of pleasure, stokes fire in your own belly; your arousal covering his own.

He grabs your other leg, and suddenly you are hoisted into the air. You yelp with surprise, but he holds you firm. His pace is relentless, still thrusting up into your welcoming heat. Such display of strength only spurs you on further. There comes a dull ache in your legs from the strain of being held up, but also the tightness of the rope cutting into your joints.

The pain and pleasure mix wonderfully, pulling you over the edge and into your waiting orgasm. You moan loudly, almost a scream, Miles’ name spills from your lips in high pitch mewls. He doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm to another, causing your to squirt all over his cock.

Tears flow freely from your eyes at the overstimulation, but by the Great Mother does it feel heavenly. Your ecstasy assaults him through the bond, finally sending him over the edge. His mouth bites down hard into your shoulder as he cums, shooting his seed up into your inviting warmth. Your walls clench him greedily, milking him till he is spent. There is a falter in his legs, you can almost feel the strain in his arms as he tries to keep you up as his pleasure wracks him to the core.

Finally though, he gently lowers you to the ground, falling onto his knees once your feet are firmly planted. You use him as leverage, lowering yourself before him. He rests his head to your shoulder, hands immediately finding your belly, resting them there.

Time passes slowly, filled with the smell of your sex and the sound of your joint laboured breaths. Slowly, Miles starts removing the rope from your person, throwing it somewhere out of sight once done. You collapse into his embrace once more, turning to your side as you lean against him. He cradles you in his arms, pressing delicate kisses to your hair.

You feel hot and sticky, but thoroughly fucked. You couldn’t be happier, tail wrapping around you both.

“You okay?” He asks, always, after any session in which he ties you up. His hands find your wrists, gently massaging the bruised skin.

“Always my love. Just a little worn out.” You close your eyes and lean into him more, never wanting this feeling to end. This peace and tranquillity.

---

Your mind drifts to the day, nearly 5 years ago, when you first landed on the island.

The Olo'eyktan and Tsahik came to greet you, as well as many members of the clan. They were surprised to see forest people; some never having seen any before. They gawked and stared unashamedly. They were more surprised though, by Spider’s presence. A Sky People child, painted with stripes, dressed in forest garb? What a spectacle!

The Tsahik had hissed when she caught sight of him, demanding that you take the Demon Child back from where you found it.

With great restraint you held your tongue, explaining instead that you cannot and would not go back. You wanted no part in the war with the Sky People, and neither did your mate. All you wanted was uturu. Some place far away from conflict. You explained that the Human boy, was in fact your mate's son, just without an Avatar body.

She was taken aback then, but grabbed your hand, noting the four fingers. She declared you too were of Demon blood, not true Na’vi. None of you were. Why should they let you stay? You looked to the Olo'eyktan then, pleading with your eyes. You gestured to Spider, saying that if he could adapt to live amongst Forest Na’vi, then you could all adapt, that you will adapt.

The Tsahik scoffed, walked around you three to inspect your tails. She stopped abruptly behind your mate, staring at his back. Her hand came to rest on the space between his shoulders. You saw the tenseness in his shoulders, wrapping his tail around his leg, hands clenched. He sends you a worried look, but you shrug, unsure of what she was doing.

You see her brows furrow. She removes her hand then, like she has been burnt, before returning to her mate’s side. She speaks low to him.

“That one, has been touched by Eywa.” The Olo'eyktan’s head shoots up as he stares at Miles, then looks back down to his mate for clarity.

“Touched?” He asks in shocked whisper. She clicks her tongue, annoyed at the events unfolding before her.

“Yes. Touched. Whether literal or spiritual, I cannot say for sure. But it is there. I feel it.” She squints at Miles, wholly distrusting of his person.

‘By the stars themselves, what could the Great Mother possibly have seen in this one?’ she thinks to herself.

“What of the boy? How will he live amongst us, if he cannot breathe our air?” The Tsahik gestures to Spider, who has been standing beside you awkwardly. You put a comforting hand around his shoulder, pressing him closer into your side.

“You need not worry. This Sky People-made mask will keep him safe.” You tap the mask gently. You’re not sure how much these people know of Human technology, but you don’t explain further. You send a silent thank you to Norm, Max and all the other scientists back home.

Just before your departure, you had decided Spider could not come with, intent to leave him behind, no matter how much it broke your heart. There would be no feasible way to replenish his oxygen packs supply. But Eywa smiled upon you. The humans, the engineers they were called, came forth with a new designed mask. It did not need oxygen packs like the old ones, instead filtered the air itself for safe breathing. It worked underwater too. It was sturdier too, strong as Na’vi bones they boasted.

Her eyes roam over you, then Spider, than up to your mate. She questions then, what skills you Forest folk could possibly bring to their shores. Your mate steps forward then, proudly stating he is a warrior, willing to fight anyone to prove his worth. The Olo'eyktan holds up his hand, stating that it wasn’t necessary, at least not yet.

The Tsahik’s eyes rake over you again, making you feel self-conscious. You see her gaze linger on your chest and your hips.

“You…Your patterns are of Forest folk, but your body is not.” It is more so a statement than a question, but demands an answer all the same.

“You are correct, Tsahik. My mother was true born Na’vi, of the Omatikaya clan. My father is…like my mate. Born of the Sky People.” She makes a disgruntled noise, but says nothing else.

After a moment of silence, she looks back up at her mate, and gives him the faintest of nods.

The Olo'eyktan announces then, that you three are welcome and are to be treated like their brothers and sisters. He warns them to be gentle with the Human, try not to gawk at him too much as there was still a village to look after. You thank him profusely, tears threating to fall at corner of your eyes. His smile is warm and welcoming, and the relief you feel is near palpable.

---

You and Miles decide to pack the food into a basket and bring it to the children. As the two of you are making your way along the beach to the path that would lead into the jungle, you are greeted by the sight of your two young sons running at you, Spider taking up the rear in a slow jog.

“Mama! Papa!” They yell in unison, arms outstretched as they crash into your legs.

“Good morning my little starlights! And to you too Spider, thank you so much for taking such good care of them,” You pick up Rawm as Miles does Taxun. Spider smiles up at the both of you, out of breath from the run.

“It’s no trouble [Y/N]. I already know what it’s like to have younger brothers.��� He takes note of the basket Miles is holding, helping himself to the fruit inside. Your smile becomes a little sad at the memory of your family. You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as the kids notice Spider eating and immediately demand to be fed.

And so the 5 of you sit on the nearby rocks in the shade, enjoying the meats and fruits. It doesn’t last long, as the twins eat far too fast for your liking, before they start pulling Spider toward the ocean, wanting to swim in the cool water now that the sun was out. He of course obliges without fuss, and you giggle as you watch them splash about in the water.

The sun hangs high in the sky now, midday you presume. You enjoy the cool breeze kissing your skin, and the soft caress of your husband as he traces the glowing freckles on your back.

You are quiet, but there is gentleness in your eyes, a soft smile on your lips.

“Whatcha lookin’ at sweetheart?” Miles asks you, and you keep your eyes forward, smile widening.

“Our future.” Your voice is soft as the sand between your toes.

He hums in agreement, and kisses your check.

“Yeah…me too.”

---

You’re not sure how much time passes, perhaps not even an hour, when you here your name being called. You look to see the Olo'eyktan’s daughter coming to you hastily.

Your heart skips a beat at her urgency.

“[Y/N]! You must come quick! Follow me!”

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Did you not hear the horns?!” She asks as she speeds off, expecting you to follow. You look to your mate, both of you have a confused expression. Neither of you heard it, too engrossed in watching your family. The kids probably didn’t hear anything amongst their own yelling and playing.

Quaritch whistles to the kids, who all immediately cease their frivolity, and run back to you two. Miles wordlessly grabs both twins in his strong arms, and you hand Spider the now empty basket. You make your way back as fast as you can waddle, explaining to the kids along the way.

---

You see an unexpected amount of people gathered at the front beach, though you can’t quite make out what’s going on.

You hear the whispers and murmurs of the clan, strangers they say; visitors.

You and Miles share a concerned look as you make your way forward. A sound carries on the wind, a bellow of a creature; and you know that sound anywhere.

Ikran.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest, your mind running a mile a minute. You don’t even think as you start forcefully pushing your way through the crowed, flanked by Miles still holding the twins and Spider.

“What’s going on Papa?” Rawm asks, clutching onto his father tightly.

You don’t hear his response as you finally make your way out front, seeing the backs of your Olo'eyktan and Tsahik.

You vaguely note the 5 ikran poised on the sand, looking none too pleased.

And when you see the Na’vi visitors talking to your Olo'eyktan, tears well in your eyes, and you let out a straggled cry.

“Sanctuary for my—” The visiting man's voice cuts short when he hears your cry, immediately finding your gaze. His eyes widen at the sight of you, flicking to your swollen belly for a split second, before coming back to your face. He lets out a shaky laugh, a grin splitting his face.

The woman at his side looks at him confused, before following his line of sight. Your eyes meet, and she falls to her knees, covering her mouth as she cries, tears streaming down her face.

You approach them slowly, not caring for the stares of the clan, nor the poignant look Tsahik Ronal is sending you.

You stand before your parents.

“Hello mother. Hello father. Oel ngati kameie.”

Neytiri jumps to her feet, wrapping in her arms tightly. Her cries burn your ears but you don’t care. They are matched only by your own. You feel your fathers arms wrap around you two, and you swear by the Great Mother, that this was perhaps the first time you’ve ever heard him cry. Your four siblings rush at you too, scrambling to get you into an embrace of their own.

You hear the tell-tale sigh of your Tsahik, and the low chuckle of Olo'eyktan Tonowari.

“I guess you have a lot of catching up to do, no?” He turns to the clan and addresses them. “Treat Jake Sully and his family as our brothers and sisters, just as you did with those who came before.” He calls for his eldest son and daughter, instructing them to teach Jake and his family just as they had taught you.

Your family untangles from one another, though your parents still have their hands on your shoulders. You take each of their hands in your own.

“[Y/N], I—”

“Hush, mother. Before you say anything, you too father, there is someone, two actually, you should meet first…” You pull them towards Miles. You turn your head to your siblings, gesturing with your head for them to follow too. You feel them tense, and a falter in their step. You gently squeeze their hands, releasing a shaking breath when you feel them squeeze back.

“Oel ngati kameie, Jake and Neytiri.” Miles says with perfect annunciation. They don’t say anything, but gesture to him with their hands. They are far too in shock, eyes instead focused on the two boys in his arms.

“Mom, dad, siblings…I’d like you to meet my sons, Rawm and Taxun,” you gesture to your boys accordingly, letting go of your parents hands, nervously threading your own fingers together in front of you.

You hear your siblings greet them with little waves, introducing themselves as their aunts and uncles. The boys are shy, and barely greet them back with tiny voices. Kiri runs to Spider, pulling him into a wordless hug as she cries into his shoulder.

“Hey kiddos, it’s nice to meet you. I’m your grandpa, Jake,” You father smiles at them big and goofy, tail swaying with joy.

“Pa Jake?” Rawm asks, bringing tears to the edge of your fathers eyes. He lets out a shaky laugh and nods.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m your mama’s papa. Just like this man, is your papa.” He pats Miles on the shoulder, and the two share a look. You can see so much unspoken words exchange between them, Miles lowering his ears submissively. But your father gives him a kind smile. You can see in your mates eyes, even as he returns the smile, there is a hint of guilt there.

Your son surprises you then, reaching for your father, who happily takes him into his arms, smile widening.

You look to your mother then; filled with trepidation at her reaction. All of your anxiety shatters when you see her smile your boys.

“Hello little ones. I am your grandmother Neytiri. Your mama’s mama…” She wipes away a stray tear, and happily takes Taxun when he reaches for her.

She gently rocks him, patting his back with practiced ease. Your heart swells at the sight of your parents holding their grandchildren.

Neytiri’s eyes lift from your son then, to meet your mate’s gaze head on. She stares at him, studying him, but he doesn’t break the eye contact. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, exhaling through her mouth. She opens her eyes and fixes him with a determined look.

“Oel ngati kameie, Miles Quaritch.” She nods to him, hand gesturing towards him in the proper greeting. “Thank you…for taking care of my daughter.”

His eyes widen at her words, and she smiles up at him, though it is small, as she hugs your son to her a little more tightly.

“Oel ngati kameie, [Y/N], my daughter…I am so happy, to see you, alive and well.” She touches a hand to your belly briefly, before returning to pat your sons back. “You too Spider…I am, pleased, to see you are doing well.”

Spider gives her a shy smile and a nod. Your brothers flank him, poking his sides and remarking on his larger frame, toned by years of swimming.

“Oel ngati kameie, mother, father, siblings. Welcome to our family.”

Everyone comes together, embracing in one giant hug, with you and Miles at the centre.

“Wherever we go, our family is our Fortress.” You father says.

“Sullys stick together,” Neteyam adds.

“And now, Quaritches too.” Your mother says, and with that, the dam breaks.

You cry tears of joy, safely nestled in the embrace of your family.

You couldn’t be happier.

End

---

<previous chapter> | 7 |

Author's Note: And that's a wrap people! Originally this was gonna end with Quaritch's "yeah me too" on the beach. But then it occurred to me, people would probably want a reunion with the family, so here we are!

Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along with what was supposed to be a horny one-shot that then turned into a mini series XD I look forward to seeing ya'll in my future works, so stay tuned!

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios @rededfoxy @brutecuteness @perseny @fandom-garbage @ttreader @hihhasotherfixations @angel-of-silver369 @royallaufeyson @saltedcoffeescotch @the-hufflebird-girl @ding-dong-big-schlong @netherklutz @moneyoverl0v3 @@episodic8peace @touchedflowers @sarcasticrandy @lov3rluna @totesnothere04 @ab-haya @me-on-pluto @ducks118 @grimistangel @lovekeeho @itsyoboysparkel

[vastill]

I love you Rebecca Welton fics🩷

So maybe a Rebecca Welton Fic where reader and her have been married for a while but no one quite believes it until reader shows up to drop off pinch for Rebecca?

Forgotten lunch

Rebecca Welton/fem!reader

warnings: fluff

words: 1700+

My requests are open!!

English is not my first language!

A/N: firstly, i love your request, and thank you for sending it! and secondly, im really sorry, my brain read your request a little differently but I hope you will like it! hope you will enjoy reading it! let me know what you think!!💚

Rebecca Welton always wanted to have an aura of secrecy around her. Sharing every aspect of her life with others was not for her. After a messy divorce from Rupert, she learned even more about living in secrecy. She didn't want to experience another drama in her life, and she certainly didn't want the press meddling in her private affairs again, so she decided to keep some things to herself. However, as the owner of a football club, it wasn't easy, as it involved many plans and rules she had to follow.

Rebecca's daily schedule remained consistent. Each morning, she had to go through her ritual to ensure she didn't forget anything important. Being an early riser, she would often admire her partner's sleeping face before the alarm went off. Despite her demanding job, Rebecca always made time for you. Mornings were her favorite moments, a brief shared moment of lying in bed and cuddling before she went to get ready for the day. During this time, you would go downstairs to prepare breakfast for both of you and pack lunch for Rebecca. Remote work had the perk that you could spend most of the day in your pyjamas without worrying about anything.

“How can you look this gorgeous so early in the morning?” You asked when she came downstairs in all her glory. She grabbed you by the hand and tugged you for the sweetest kiss. “I don’t know, how can you look this cute in your pyjamas?” She laughed when you scoffed and kissed your nose.

“Well, not everyone is the owner of a football club, baby. So I need to pull off my pajamas look.”

“And you do it perfectly darling,” she smiled and beckoned you closer to her, “I love seeing you like this. It’s a shame that I need to go to work.” She said while her hands went under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach.

“Someone is clingy today. You sure you can’t stay today?” You asked, internally knowing the answer but there was no harm in asking, maybe one day she would agree.

Rebecca sighed, leaning her head on your chest and hugging you tightly, “No, sorry sweetheart. I can’t, I have some meetings today but I promise I will be home for dinner.” The two of you stood in your embrace for a little while, taking this moment of calmness.

“Oh fuck,” you heard Rebecca silently murmur before quickly getting up. “I need to go, otherwise I will be late. Have a good day, I love you!” she shouted as she left the house. As she opened the door, you noticed her packed lunch sitting on the counter. “Wait, love! You forgot your...” The door closed before you could finish the sentence, “...lunch.”

You pondered for a moment about what to do with the lunch box. Your initial thought was to bring her lunch to work, but since no one knew about your relationship, you weren't sure if Rebecca wanted them to know. However, you had made her favorite dish, and you knew she was craving it, so not having it today would surely ruin her mood. Ultimately, you decided to send her a text and wait for her response.

Hi, love! You forgot your lunch from home and I know you have been craving this meal so what do you want me to do with it? I think I'll put it in the fridge and it'll be waiting for you. Missing you already xx

Rebecca got to work without being a minute late. She sat in her office and checked her phone, seeing your message she searched her purse, “Shit!”

“Hello to you too, Boss!” she saw Ted standing in her office with his usual box of biscuits in hand. “Sorry, Ted. Yes, good morning.” She said with a tight smile.

“Got up on the wrong side of the bed? Maybe these will help.” Ted said, handing her the box.

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing one of the biscuits, “I just forgot my lunch at home. It was a tasty lunch, so I’m a little upset.”

“Maybe you can send someone to grab it for you? I don’t mind going there if you want me to. It’s not like I have many things to do today.” Ted offered.

“No, that won’t be necessary. I think I have an idea. But back to work, do you have something you want to talk about?” she asked while texting you.

I didn’t even notice! You and your pyjamas distracted me! But I thought maybe you could come here and drop it. And if you are not busy, have lunch with me in my office? That would be very nice. Love you xx

Yeah, of course! When do you want me to be there?

Around two? How does that sound?

I’ll be there! I can’t wait! xx

Rebecca was nervous, not because she was ashamed of who she was or her relationship, but because she wanted to protect her and your privacy. And you coming here wasn’t something that she expected to do. But she was also excited. She wanted you to be in all parts of her life and perhaps introduce you to some of her friends at AFC Richmond if you were up for it.

As two o'clock approached, Rebecca paced in her office. The door swung open, and she turned around to see Keeley standing there. Although she felt disappointed, she didn't show it on her face.

“Hey! I need to tell you all about this new staff at my office. He is getting on my nerves so bad!” Keeley said, settling comfortably on the couch in Rebecca’s office. “You know, he is new but fucking hell he doesn’t know how to do anything. He broke the printer today! Printer, Rebecca! How does someone not know how to use the fucking printer!”

“Oh hey, yes, I’m good, thanks for asking. And no, you are not interrupting.” Rebecca said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

“Don't tell me you're busy. I saw you pacing!” Keeley exclaimed. Another person appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Ted! Come here, maybe you have some gossip to share!” she shouted from the couch.

I’m here. Do I just go straight in or do I need to do something?

Go straight in, when you reach the stairs you need to go up and there is my office.

Rebecca didn’t know what to do. You will be here any minute, and she is not alone.

FYI Ted and Keeley are here in my office.

Oh. Do you not want me to go there? I mean I can ask someone to bring you lunch.

Don’t be silly, come here. I want you to meet them. I want you to be a part of this family I have here <3

Okay, give me a second, I love you xx

“Who are you texting? Me and Ted are here so..did you finally meet someone?” Keeley asked, and Rebecca could only smile. She saw you standing in the hallway and beckoned you inside. “Who is there? Are we inviting more people to the gossip group?” Keeley said, but Rebecca wasn’t listening to her anymore.

You shyly stepped into the office, stealing a glance at Keeley and Ted before waving at them. They looked at you with confusion, unsure of who you were. But before you could speak, Rebecca embraced you in a hug. “I’m so happy you are here, darling,” Rebecca whispered in your ear. After releasing the hug, her hand remained on your waist. “Thank you for bringing me lunch, I know I promised you to eat together but I didn’t expect to have company." She said, giving a narrowed look to the two individuals on the couch.

“You didn’t tell me you are bringing a hot date here! So that’s not my fault!” Keeley exclaimed. She quickly introduced herself, saying, “Hi, I’m Keeley, Rebecca’s best friend, and you are?”

You smiled at her, “Hi, I’m Y/N, Rebecca’s-“ You glanced at Rebecca, and she nodded, so without hesitation, you continued, “wife.” The two of you exchanged smiles as you noticed their confused expressions. You couldn't help but feel a rush of joy as you saw the surprise on their faces.

“Wait a moment, did I hear correctly? You said wife, didn't you? I mean my hearing isn't as good as it used to be, but surely it can't be that bad. Or maybe I imagined it?” Ted questioned, his eyebrows furrowing as he nervously rubbed his ear, trying to make sense of what he'd just heard.

Rebecca laughed lightly at his surprise, nodding in affirmation. “Yes, Ted, you heard me correctly. She is my wife, it will be two years soon.” Rebecca confirmed with a gentle smile, her fingers tenderly squeezing your side for reassurance.

Keeley seemed to get out of her confused stage, “I knew you were a little fruity but WIFE! And you didn’t tell me! I’m seriously offended!” she said, her voice filled with faux disapproval, “It will take a lot of hot gossips for me to forgive you!”

“I don’t know about hot gossip, but we definitely will have girls' night since you know who I am.” You said, a note of excitement creeping into your voice, “I'm sorry Ted, I can't make any promises about them letting you in, but just so you know, from my side, you're also invited!”

“Yes! Girls night! I always wanted to be invited to one!” He jumped into the air in his excitement, his fist pumping in victory.

The room filled with laughter as Ted looked like he'd just won the lottery, and even Keeley's initial surprise had faded, replaced with an eager grin. Rebecca and you both laughed at his excitement, “I'll look forward to it,” Rebecca said, a smile dancing on her lips.

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you as you watched Rebecca talk and laugh with her colleagues. It was a sight you didn’t get to see often. She caught your eye and winked at you, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

This was a new chapter in your life, and you both were ready for it. Rebecca was finally ready to let the world know about her love for you, ready to take on whatever came her way with you by her side.

[neewtmas]

Jealous // Part I

A/N: finally managed to write a part II to this

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 1.4k

masterlist

The only source of light that illuminates the kitchen are a couple of almost burned down candles on the table, their flickering light sending shadows dancing over the tablecloth and the kitchen cabinets. I stare at the indents my nail makes as I drag it over the cloth, again and again, in a never-ending circle. The quiet clanking of metal against porcelain tells me that George is still stirring his tea. It must be cold by now.

“When do you think they’ll be back?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the table. Silence. George has stopped stirring, and I know he’s rubbing his eyes behind his glasses like he does every time he’s tired and stressed. “I don’t know.”

I let my eyes wander over to the old clock that hangs on the wall right next to the door that leads into the hallway. The larger, slightly crooked hand has almost reached the top, telling me it’s nearing 4 am. Usually Lockwood and Lucy aren’t out that late, especially not when the case they had set out to solve was such a minor one. Or seemed like it on paper. George and I had been back since shortly after 1 am, the case we had to solve being simple in every sense of the word.

Since then, we had slowly run out of things to talk about, and I had given up on racking my brain for further conversation topics. That’s not usual at all for us, just a few weeks ago we would have never sat in silence for that long. Except when reading and researching in the library maybe. We had been what you could call a team from the day I started my employment at Lockwood & Co, mostly brought together by the fact that half the time, Lockwood and Lucy just had a dynamic that made one feel like they were intruding on something.

It took some time for George to warm up to me, but I thought he considered me his friend by now. Yet here we were, sitting in silence in the dimly lit kitchen, avoiding looking at each other. I wish I knew what had cause this shift between us, but I don’t have any time to ruminate over it. The sound of the front door opening and falling shut and boots on the creaky floorboards make me perk up. George’s eyes briefly meet mine before the kitchen door flies open and Lockwood steps into the room, followed closely by Lucy. They seem exhausted, but uninjured.

Lockwood plops down on a chair, still in his coat, and lets out a big sigh. “Tea”, is all he says, while Lucy scoots next to me on the bench. George gets up without a word, pours two cups from the kettle on the stove and comes back to the table to put them down in front of Lockwood and Lucy, much more forceful than needed. The cup leaves a stain on the cloth as Lockwood raises it to his lips to take a sip, and immediately spits it out again. “Now that’s actually disgusting”, he grimaces, putting down the cup. “Yes, because it’s been on the stove for three hours”, George snaps. “Where the hell have you been?!”. Lockwood raises his arms in defence, evidently surprised by George’s intense reaction. “Calm down, everything’s fine. We had an issue with the cab and couldn’t find a new one, so it took a little longer than usual.” He gives George one of his charming smiles that is sure to diffuse any tense situation, but George seems immune to it today. “Well thanks to you I had to sit here for three hours, wasting my time!” He rises from his seat, clearly agitated. “Don’t expect me to be up early tomorrow.” With that he leaves the room, not sparing any of us another glance. No one says a word, until somewhere in the house, a door shuts loudly. “Phew, someone’s in a bad mood”, Lockwood chuckles as he gets up to prepare a new kettle. “What’s gotten into him? Did your case go wrong?”

I shrug, feeling somewhat deflated. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the fact that George just spent three hours with me only to leave and call it a waste of time stings pretty badly. “I don’t know”, I say weakly, “He hasn’t really talked to me at all today.” Lucy looks at me quizzically. “All week, actually”, I add, and cringe at how pathetically small my voice sounds. We stay silent for a while, until the tea was ready. “Do you know of anything that might have upset him?”, Lucy asks, smiling at Lockwood who hands her the first cup of tea he poured. He sets one down in front of me as well, before he resumes his place on the chair, his own steaming cup in hand.

I search my brain, for something, anything, but I come up empty. “I have no idea. Everything was fine a couple of days ago.” I stare at the cup in front of me. Lucy goes to drop in a sugar cube, stirs it a couple of times and hands it to me. “Since when exactly is he acting like that?”, she asks, and I take a sip. The hot tea burns my lips and tongue and my throat on the way down and distracts me as I try to recall the events of last week.

“I guess since the last time we were at the library, last Thursday”, I say. “What happened there?” Lucy asks again, and I continue. “That’s the thing, nothing. We were just at our usual table, doing our usual stuff, nothing special. Kipps and his crew stopped by for a few minutes and were annoying, but that’s really the most exciting thing that happened.” Lucy sits up straighter, clearly interested now.  “Did Kipps do anything?”

“No. He just introduced the newest member of his team to us, but I don’t recall his name. Joe? Or Jonas?” Lockwood huffs, annoyed just like every time we talk about Kipps and his team. “Johnathan. I’ve seen him once, seems about as incompetent as the rest of them.”

I nod. “Right. Well, when I went to bring back a book, I ran into him, and he asked me out on a coffee date.” Lucy gasps, and Lockwood leans forward, waiting for me to continue. “Did you say yes?”, Lucy asks urgently, and I can’t tell what she wants the answer to be. I shake my head incredulously.  “Obviously not. Well anyways, a while later we pack up our stuff, and on the way out, we walk past their table. And he yells after me ‘don’t forget our date, sweetheart!’. When we were outside, George asked me what that was about, and I just told him he asked me out earlier.”

Lucy covers her mouth with her hand and stares at me, wide-eyed. “Did you also tell him you said no?!”

I shake my head.  “I kinda thought that was implied”, I say, twiddling with my fingers.  Lockwood laughs, and I just look at him in confusion. “Nothing implied that”, he says, raising his eyebrows. “Poor Georgie thinks your going on a date, and that’s why his mood is so sour. He’s jealous!”

My face heats up, and I can just tell I’m scarlet right now. “Why would he be jealous?”, I mumble, embarrassed. “Well, that’s easy to answer”, Lucy chuckles. My cheeks burn at the implications of her words. George? Jealous? Never in a million years would I have come to that conclusion. “But then why would he just stop talking to me?”, I ask, exasperated because Lockwood and Lucy seem to enjoy my embarrassment a little too much. 

“Because it’s George”, Lockwood simply says. “That’s what he does.” A smile tugs at his lips. “I suggest we go to sleep now. Maybe you’ll have a nice dream about your lover boy.” I think my head is about to explode, and I’m not sure which one he is talking about. I look over to Lucy for help, but she just bites her lip to keep from bursting out laughing. “Lockwood is right”, she manages to say, before she can’t hold her laughter anymore. I hurry out of the kitchen, face beet red.

[thetoxicgamer]

Diablo 3 Seasons “Won’t Be as Rich” Once Diablo 4 Launches

If you haven't started playing Diablo 3 season 28, now would be a good time to do so since Blizzard has stated that future seasons won't be as expansive as the company switches its attention to the sequel with the impending release of Diablo 4. With a significant upgrade that completely changed Diablo 3 on a grand scale after it was released to an initially cool reception, the now ten-year-old RPG game is still among Blizzard's greatest. I’ve been playing Diablo 3’s latest season quite a lot this past couple of weeks. It proved to be a perfect stopgap between the end of the Diablo 4 beta and the start of the new Path of Exile Crucible league on April 7, and I’d go so far as to suggest it might be one of the best Diablo 3 seasons in the game’s extensive history. With the introduction of its Altar of Rites – an account-wide progression tree that applies potent buffs to all your seasonal characters that dramatically boost your potential – season 28 allows you to level and grind faster than ever before. Between its initial doubled kill streak timer and bonus, and the early perk that removes all item level requirements, I was able to blast my Wizard to level 70 in next to no time and get to work on assembling the perfect set. I’m now putting the final touches to the build, blasting through increasingly challenging Greater Rifts in a barrage of meteors with my Tal Rasha’s set, and it’s been a magnificent send-off to the game. Unfortunately for those of you who aren’t yet ready to move on, it does seem like a send-off might be exactly what it is. In a group interview with Wowhead, Blizzard’s Diablo general manager Rod Fergusson clarifies that, while Diablo 3 season 29 will have a new seasonal theme, “it won’t be as rich as season 28.” Following that, season 30 and beyond are set to be repeats taken from previous seasons, with “a mix and match of previous cosmetics and features” to keep things a little fresh as the team moves its efforts onto Diablo 4. That’s understandable, of course, but somewhat sad – Diablo 4 is quite a distinct product from the games that came before it, so I’m sure there will be players who enjoy returning to past entries. If that’s you, then, perhaps set your expectations accordingly. Make sure you’re up to date on all the Diablo 4 classes ahead of the new game’s release, because the Diablo 4 launch is sooner than we thought. If you want to get another step up on everyone else planning to jump into the new entry, a Diablo 4 skill tree builder is the ideal way to prepare your plans prior to Lilith’s arrival. Read the full article

[anonymityisfunwriter]

What are some moments with sunshine, Bucky, and nick fury? Like when fury found out about them, he seeing some pda? And/Or what about sunshine and nick? Like it was nick’s birthday and sunshine gave him a present and cake.

So...

I want to preface this with usually these things are very planned out. Like intricately planned out. There's an entire Google Doc of my babbling ideas.

Every time I think there isn't going to be more to explore, you guys flip another stone and boom, a dozen more ideas just like that. So thank you so much for sharing!

This is very off the cuff, and I may or may not explore this more, but this scene played out in my head and I thought it was funny, so... Here you go!

--

"No," Sam hisses into the phone, turned away from the conference room table as more of your team-mates filter into the conference room. "I'm not covering for you again. Fury's gonna be here today so you both need to get your asses here."

"Please?" you plead. "We're already in the city. We won't even make it back in time. Please?"

"No!"

"Please, please, please?" you implore.

"No. No-"

"Okay, thank you so much, Sam. Love you! Bye!"

"I-" Sam starts, only to be cut off by the little beep of a dead line. He angrily exhales at the dark phone screen. "Damn it."

Clint chuckles at Sam's expression. "They're not coming, are they?"

"No," Sam huffs. "They're not."

"Have fun explaining that to Fury," Clint snickers.

"Do not make this worse for me," Sam warns, already dreading telling Nick Fury that half the team hadn't even shown up for this meeting.

But he, the responsible Avenger that showed up prepared and 15 minutes early, was now going to have to answer for his truant teammates.

"Come on," Clint guffaws. "Doesn't matter what I say. Fury's got massive blindspots when it comes to anything about his golden child. "

"Do not make this meeting any worse for me, Clint," Sam pointedly repeats.

Clint continues, brushing off Sam's comment with another teasing remark. "You're telling me that he doesn't? The man is the literal director of SHIELD. He knows what happens in this Compound before the thought even occurs to anyone, and he hasn't figured out that his golden child has now moved in with Bucky?"

"Don't start," Sam sighs, not meeting Clint's probing gaze.

Clint knowingly gasps, his new realization lighting up his entire face. "Oh my God, he doesn't even know they're together, does he?"

Sam falters for a moment, silently cursing both you and Bucky for what he was going to have to put up with today. "But that's none of our business and we most certainly aren't going to say anything about it before they can!"

"But they're not here now, are they?" Clint challenges, a mischievous grin firmly planted on his face. "This is gonna be an amazing meeting. I can feel it already."

Sam leans over the table, planting both his hand on either side of him. "Please, Clint. I beg you to keep your mouth shut."

Clint shrugs, nonchalantly settling back in his chair. "You're just lucky Steve's not here. He'd fold the second Nick asked where they are."

"Where who is?" Nick questions, striding into the room.

"Um... it looks like a few of our fellow teammates will not be here today," Sam reluctantly informs, once again, silently cursing you and Bucky for making him cover for the two of you. Again. "They send their regards."

It wasn't that Sam was scared of Nick Fury, but he definitely didn't like the grimace already forming on Fury's face before he's even spoken.

And the thing was, Sam already knew that Nick Fury had an undeniable soft spot reserved for you. That soft spot undoubtedly came with perks, but that also meant Fury was very protective over you. Nick Fury being Nick Fury would never truly admit it, but he cared immensely about you.

Sam didn't really think you were deliberately hiding your relationship from Nick, you didn't see Nick very often and when you did it was usually in passing. One thing Sam did know, is that today of all days, in a meeting about an extremely important upcoming mission, and from Clint of all people, would be a terrible way to break that news to Nick Fury.

Nick opens his mouth to speak, but Sam cuts him off, quickly adding, "But I will relay any and all information to them."

"You could probably just tell Bucky, they're very close these days," Clint teases, using his hand to cover his suggestive smirk.

Sam isn't sure whether Clint's insinuation really does just go over Nick's head or if he's just choosing to ignore Clint, but Nick turns back to Sam with a frown. "And why isn't the entire team present?"

"Steve and Natasha believe they found a new lead in their assignment, so they are currently leading a recon mission. They'll be back later today," Sam informs, avoiding the subject of you and Bucky.

"And?" Clint prompts, a wicked grin on his face that tells Sam that he's enjoying the torment he's causing far too much to stop.

Sam clears his throat, biting back the obscenities he desperately wants to hurl at Clint. Sam gestures to the two glaringly open seats where you and Bucky both usually sit, "And they have both decided to take a personal day."

"At the same time?" Clint muses. "Isn't that strange?"

Sam sucks in an angry breath, sharply kicking Clint's shin underneath the table.

Nick cuts Clint off with the wave of his hand. "What she, or any of the other team for that matter, does on their off time is none of my concern."

"More like who."

"Clint," Sam sharply admonishes.

And with Clint's little snide comment, it all suddenly clicks into place for Fury, the realization hitting him like a truck. "Motherfu-"

Fury Finds Out (Part 2)

Grumpy Sunshine Series Grumpy Sunshine Drabbles

Let me know what you guys think! 💛

Grumpy Sunshine Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx  @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr

[lazysimp]

Dark Clouds (+18) /// Shoto x Male Reader

Click HERE to read the Fem version

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only Minors DNI

Summary:  You love Shoto more than anything but what if you were the only thing standing in between him and his dreams? Smut+Angst

A prequel to Cloud Nine.

Word count: 3k+

Warnings/tags: Angst, Blackmail, Morning Sex, Breakup, Soft Dom Shoto, Praise, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (receiving), He/Him pronouns, All characters are adults.

masterlist┃AO3

“Oh fuck Shoto! Please just a little more,” You beg, your back arching off the bed as you push his head down. Your fiancé had made it a habit to wake you up with his mouth on your cock, licking up your cum like it was his last meal.

After living together for a month you thought he would finally start to calm down but his need for you had only grown. He had barely left the apartment, deciding to take a vacation to spoil you instead of working on climbing the ranks. You tried to convince him to focus more on his career, but he would drop to his knees every time you brought it up.

“I love this pretty cock,” He groaned, swiping his tongue over your tender glands as more precum leaked from your slit. His lips closed around your tip, sucking it into his mouth while his fingers teased your tight hole.

You yelp and clench your thighs, caging in his head but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, your soft thighs against his ears sent him into a frenzy. He thrust his long fingers into you, curling them up to press against your sweet spot.

Your body bolts up, curling around his head but he continued on, never giving you an ounce of mercy. With your head directly above his, the lewd sounds of his mouth filled your ear, sending you further down the rabbit hole.

He released your cock from his mouth and moved to your hole to gather more of your addicting taste with his tongue. “My baby has such a good hole. So tight and hot, and it’s all mine.”

You let out a whine at his praise, you wanted to always belong to him. To never leave his side as he rose to meet his dreams.

He added a third lubed finger into your ass, stretching you open in preparation for his cock. You hiss at the slight burn but it fades quickly as his expert fingers began to fall in temperature, soothing the ache. He had always been so considerate during sex, always making sure you were well stretched before he ever tried to enter you.

The first time the two of you had sex was not the greatest but it was a moment in your life you would never forget. For hours he explored your body, experimenting and exploring you to understand exactly what you liked. By the end of the night, you were both absolutely exhausted, barely able to move.

His tongue returned to your cock, teasing the side of it with the tongue as his fingers continue to pump into your ass. Your breathing grows frantic and your body becomes tight as the pleasure swelled inside you. You could feel your thighs tremble around his head and your hands shake.

He smiled as your sweet hole trembled around his fingers, his baby was close. Remembering to not speed up he kept his movements consistent, listening for your little mewls to direct his touch.

As your breathing grew more labored and body tense he took you all the way into his mouth, sucking to pull every last ounce of pleasure from you. It was the final straw, he watched in awe as you fell apart. Your ass milking his fingers while your cock pulsed in his mouth with each spurt of cum.

Normally he would keep his mouth on your cock, cleaning up your orgasm with his tongue but he had to be at work in twenty minutes. Grudgingly he moved his mouth from your sex and rose to his knees. He gently slid his hands under you and flipped you over, exposing your mouthwatering ass to his view.

Holding his breath to stop from cumming, he lifted your hips up and pushed your back down. It looked as though you were presenting yourself to him. While he loved watching your face as you cum, this view definitely had its perks.

Lining his tip with your entrance he watched himself sink into you. Your cute moans filling his ears, serenading him as he bottomed out. Wanting a better view, he grabbed your ass with his large hands and spread it open, exposing your tight rosebud. He ignored your squeal of protest and started to thrust, watching you take his cock so perfectly.

Each thrust into your tight heat drove him further into insanity. He would never grow tired of this, tired of you. He still wasn’t sure how he managed to get you to agree to marry him, it still felt unreal, like someone was going to rip the floor out from under him. Something as good as you never happened to someone like him, something always messed it up.

“Shoto,” You whine, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Fuck, I need more.”

Determined to have you cum around his cock he reached around and wrapped his hand around the base of your cock. He let out a sly grin watching your body jerk as he thrust his hand, knowing the extra stimulation would send you right over the edge.

“Please, Shoto, please,” You begged, the tight coil inside your chest reeling tighter with each lazy pump of his hand. You lose the ability to speak, only moans leaving your lips.

“That’s it, that is my good boy. So perfect for me. I want you to cum on my cock while I watch,” He says hoarsely behind you. That was all it took, the spring inside you snapped sending you spiraling into oblivion.

Your toes curl in uncontrollably as you scream into the pillow, the brutal waves of pleasure crashing into you. You couldn’t even breathe as your rode out each pulsing wave. His hand did not stop milking your cock, instead teasing you through the high. Making you ride the wave as long as possible before his thrusts started to fall out of rhythm.

You lay face down into the bed, exhausted as he finally falls apart. You could feel his cock pulse inside you as his cum fills you. Once he finally finished he rolled off the top and laid next to you, pulling you into his arms.

You both lay there for a few minutes, not needing words as you recover from the morning quickie. Shoto pushed himself up on his elbows and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. He then stood out of bed and started to get ready. You lie in bed and watch as he dons his uniform and smooths out his sex hair.

“I should be home for dinner today, I am only scheduled to patrol until five.”

You nod, “Do you want to go out? Mina said the new soba place was really good.”

Shoto flashed you a warm smile, “I would love that, I’ll see you tonight.”

You push up on your elbows to meet his lips for one last kiss before he leaves. No matter how many times you kissed him, he always managed to take your breath away. You bring your hand up to his cheek as he slowly pulled away and looked into his eyes.

“Please be safe.”

He tilts his head into your hand, giving you some of its weight. “Don’t worry, I promise I will always come back to you.”

You drop your hand and lay back down, watching as he leaves the confines of the bedroom, and listened for the front door to close. Slipping on one of your lazy shirts, you make your way to the kitchen. You grab a few ingredients and cook a quick breakfast, eating it while you watch the news. Thankfully there was nothing big going on in the city, only a few petty criminals.

Shoto was more capable of taking care of himself but it was hard not to worry. You knew what you signed up for when you agreed to go out with Shoto, but he made all the stress and worry worth it.

You sit at the small counter and eat your breakfast. You avoid scheduling anything on your days off just in case they let Shoto off early so you had nothing planned. You put your dishes in the sink and start to collect some laundry, you could at least clean up some before you rested.

A loud buzz filled the apartment signaling someone was wanting to come up. You drop off the laundry and click on the speaker. Shoto had chosen this apartment because of the added security measures in place. No one could come up to the floor without a key or explicit permission.

“Hello?” You say into the small mic, unsure who would be asking to come up. Shoto hadn’t mention anyone planning on coming over.

“Can I come up?” The deep powerful voice of Endeavor said to the mic.

For a brief moment, your heart stopped. You tried to frantically think of what to say but no words came to mind. You had only ever met him once and you had Shoto by your side. You know he does not approve of your relationship with Shoto, after all, Shoto is going to be one of the world’s strongest heroes and you were well you.

“Just a minute,” You say to buy time as you debate whether or not to call Shoto. On one hand, having him by your side would keep Endeavor in line but on the other, you should be able to handle being around your fiance’s father. After all once you get married he will be family.

You suck in a stabilizing breath and call down to the front desk to give Endeavor permission to come up. While you waited for him to arrive you run to the bedroom and quickly put on a more presentable outfit. You still wanted to call Shoto, to have his supporting hand at the small of your back as you talk to the flame hero.

Three stern knocks signaled that Endeavor had arrived. You turn the knob and ignore the dread filling your stomach, you could do this. Endeavor knew better than to hurt you, he probably just wanted to talk about your engagement.

You stood frozen in the doorway and stare at the flame hero. He did not have any of his usual fire blazing, letting you see his natural hair better. Without his flames or hero uniform, he was a lot less intimidating.

You plaster on your best smile, “Please, come in.”

He steps into your shared apartment and takes off his shoes. You smile, this was definitely a good start. You both silently make your way to the dining room and sit. You were unsure what you need to do so you sit silently and wait.

Endeavor cleared his throat, “This is a very nice place the two of you share. Shoto chose well.”

You give a cautious smile, “I do really love this apartment. I have never lived somewhere with a view as nice as this one and it is easy for both of us to get to work from here.”

Endeavor nodded, “I won’t waste any more of your time, pretending to be here for a visit. I am sure you have seen the news lately. Shoto has fallen over two spots in rank compared to last year. After evaluating his skills and performance in the field, my agency has determined that his fall in rank is due to the amount of time he is taking off.”

You stiffen in your seat, scared of where this is going to go.

“I allowed this relationship to continue as it was not worth getting Shoto upset with my interference, but this is going too far. You are ruining his chances at becoming the number one hero.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Excuse me!”

Endeavor reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small booklet. He opens it to reveal a single check. He pushes it over to you, the box for the amount was blank.

“You fill out how much you want to leave this relationship.”

“You can’t be serious, what kind of person do you think I am?”

Endeavor’s face held no emotion, “How much?”

Your face twists in anger, “Fuck you! I’m not leaving Shoto, not for any amount of money. You can take this check and shove it-”

“If you do not leave I will be forced to take action.”

A rush of fear runs through you, “What do you mean?”

Endeavor sighed, “I let Shoto leave my agency with the understanding that he would still work to climb his way to the top. He is no longer doing this. If he continues like this I will have to call up the agency he is working at and have him removed from their staff.”

“Removed, you mean fired. You will have him fired because he is going to marry me?” Your throat began to grow tight as the world started to close in around you.

“I am going to have him removed because he can’t do his job properly and be with you.”

You begin to shake, “And how is that going to help him become the number one hero?”

“Simple, he will have to come work for me again. Under my influence, he will take over the number one spot in no time.”

“You know he hates working for you. He loves the agency he is working at, you would rip that way from him?”

Endeavor’s flames started to sprout, “I have seen too many heroes with potential never amount to anything because of relationships like yours. I will be damned if the same happens to Shoto.”

“So I will talk to Shoto about not taking as much time off.” You try to reason.

Endeavor shakes his head, “It is far too late for that. It is not just me who is taking notice to his slacking. If he continues to behave the way he is, I won’t even need to make the call to have him removed. If you want him to not have to work for me you will leave him or all of this will be your fault.”

Endeavor stands to his full height, “After today if I see you anywhere with him he will come to work for me whether he wants to or not.”

He leaves you to sit alone in the apartment. You sit still in your chair, unsure what to think. How could a morning that started so perfect end up like this? You somehow managed not to cry, too focused on figuring out what to do.

You know Shoto loved you, he made sure to tell you almost every day, but could he love you if it meant he had to do something he hated? He loved working at the agency with Inasa and others. The time he spent working under his dad was some of the most miserable of his life.

The entire reason the two of you even met was that he went out with his friends to celebrate finally leaving his father’s agency. How could you ask him to stay with you if it meant returning to misery?

With no one to turn to you flip on the tv, needed background noise as you try to find a solution. You could not ask Mina or Kirishima for help, they would spill to Shoto the minute you told them. If he even caught a hint at what was going on he would go berserk.

You had only ever seen him mad once when a fan tried to throw something at you. His entire demeanor changed from quiet and calm into a simmering rage. He would have easily laid out the fan but you somehow managed to calm him enough to convince him to go home. He had spent hours fucking you to get out his rage. By the time he was back to normal your entire body was covered in hickeys and bruises.

You shake your head to clear your mind of, this was not time to think about sex. You look around the apartment you share with Shoto and feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn’t want to leave him. Being with him these past few months had been the happiest of your life. You had never loved someone like you loved him.

Could you live with yourself if you had to watch the beautiful light in his eyes fade if he worked for Endeavor? In the dark of night, Shoto would confide in you about his childhood. How his father only saw him as a tool to overcome All Might. If you stayed with him he would have to be around that mindset every day.

Shoto deserved happiness, even if it was not with you. He was young and handsome, he could easily find someone else. You know it will be hard on him but you could not live with yourself if you had to watch him grow to be miserable.

You lift your chin up, you had to break up with Shoto, it was the only option.

You turn to the bedroom and grab a duffel bag you used moving in. You had to move your stuff out before he got home. You know if he had time he would be able to convince you to stay.

You haphazardly pack away your clothes, not bothering to fold the piles as you shove them into the bag. You would only be able to pack a bag without a car to move.

The small click of a lock stopped you dead in your tracts. No, he wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another hour. The bag drops out of your fingers and you run to the living room. He was standing in the kitchen with the fridge open. He did always get hungry after patrol.

He turned his head at the sound of your footsteps and smiled. Your heart finally broke in half, you were never going to have this again. Deep sobs tore up your throat and before you could stop them fat tears began to fall.

Shoto’s face filled with panic and he rushed over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice filled with panic.

This only makes you cry harder, you didn’t want to do this. The weight of your loss grew stronger as his hold tightened.

“W-we have to break up,” You incoherently sob into his chest.

“Baby, I don’t understand what you are saying, can you look at me?” He gently bruised his hand up your forehead pushing your head back so he could look into your eyes.

Your lower lip trembles but you somehow manage to speak, “I am calling off the engagement, I can’t do this anymore.”

You watch as his face drops, his eyes wide with confusion, “Baby, what are you talking about? What is wrong, did something happen when I was gone?”

You shake your head, “I can’t do this anymore.” Lie. “Being with you is exhausting.” Lie. “I thought you were the one but I was wrong.” Lies, lies, lies. You hate every word that comes from your lips but this had to hurt. You had to make him hate you, it was the only way.

He drops the arms that once held you close to him, “I don’t, I don’t understand? We were fine this morning, what happened?” His blue eyes were glossy with unfallen tears.

You wrapped your arms tight around your waist for mock comfort. “I-I have been thinking about this since you proposed, I can’t handle dating a hero it is too much stress. I am m-miserable.”

Watching Shoto struggle to speak as he processed what you said hurt more than just ripping your own heart out.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? Why did you let this go on for so long if you felt that way?”

You shake your head, “I thought I would get used to it, but it has only gotten worse.”

“But this morning and every day before that you never said anything. You seemed happy.” He turned his back to you and walked towards the kitchen.

“Why now? What changed?”

You needed to end this before he asked any more questions, you let thick walls close around your heart and go for the kill, “Because I don’t love you anymore.”

His entire face crumbles as if you had stabbed him. Unable to look at him any longer you grab your duffel from the bedroom. You take one last look at the bedroom, the bed still a mess after this morning.

The weight of your loss was so suffocating you couldn’t even breathe as you walk past Shoto. He stood still in the living room unmoving in shock. He blinked strongly a few times like he was trying to wake up from a terrible nightmare.

You reach the front door “I am going to stay at Mina’s if you need anything. I’m so sorry Shoto.”

This was for the best, he could receiver from losing you. You were only in his life for a few months but his dream of being a hero had been lifelong. This breakup will only be a road bump in his journey to success. You knew he will reach the top, it just won’t be with you.

[novamirmirsblog]

No more bed

Word count: 2113

Genre: Not actually sure :3

Request: No

Warnings: Swearing, kissing?

A/N that's the end of the only one bed trope. Technically requests are now closed but if you think of another overused trope you want me to write then feel free to send it in!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You didn't eat that night and went straight to bed when you got too tired to focus on the words. You had made sure the pillow wall was twice the size it was to begin with. You turned off your light when you heard Natasha's footsteps come to the door, turning your back to her and pretending to be asleep. Your breaths were deep and completely even, there was no way Natasha could have guessed you were still awake. You felt her hesitate over you and the smell of reheated food invaded your nose and then heard her walk away.

The words she said back in that forest shouldn't have hurt you as much but they did. You shouldn't care what she thinks. It doesn't matter that she doesn't believe in your skills as an agent, that she doesn't think you're pretty enough to grab someone's attention.

If Natasha thought the bickering and coolness was bad at the start of the week, she was in for a shock. When she finally came back to that tiny, godforsaken bed and did her usual trick of sliding her foot over the pillow wall, you got up, took a pillow and the spare blanket and went to sleep on the rug in the living room.

When morning rolled around, you couldn't even be bothered to talk to her, focusing much more on the task ahead, just wanting this week to be over. It wasn't even the hurt you were feeling, it was the frustration that you felt hurt that drove you to stop talking to her. You hated her. She was annoying. She had no respect for anything anyone does.

You spent most the day preparing for the party that evening. Sure, it shouldn't take you over half a day to get ready but you had finished your paperwork early and you wanted to try on every single dress and suit SHIELD had supplied you with. You ended up choosing a navy blue, off the shoulder ball gown. Thinking logistically, it was quite possibly one of the worst things you could have worn. A pantsuit would have been a much more suitable choice and yet you looked and - more importantly - felt hot in the dress.

~~~~~

"You're not seriously wearing that are you?" Natasha asked as we both began to change into our formal wear. She had let you splurge out on a taxi but only after you had to walk what felt like 500 miles so no one would know where you were staying.

"Why not?" You asked with a fakeness in your voice "It's a no contact mission, plus, no one would look at me anyway, right?"

"Y/n, that's not what I-"

"Oh look. We're here." You get out the cab before Natasha can finish what she's saying.

Ivan might be an evil person, but he sure does know how to throw a party. It was elegant and high class and he made his way over to you as soon as he saw you. You had both agreed that you would keep him distracted while Natasha grabbed the relevant information.

"Dorogaya, u tebya poluchilos!" (Darling, you made it!) Ivan opened his arms wide, grabbed you by the shoulders and placed a kiss on both of your cheeks.

"Konechno, kak ya mog ignorirovat' takuyu ​​zagadku?" (Of course, how could I ignore something so mysterious?) You laughed and he moved his arm to around your waist.

"Prikhodite, prikhodite, yest' lyudi, kotorykh vy dolzhny vstretit'" (Come, come, there are people you should meet)

~~~~~

Ivan spent most the night introducing you to different 'modelling' agencies. You knew what he was doing, he was showing you off to potential buyers. Ivan ran a human trafficking ring along with some other not so nice business. You weren't worried - not in the slightest. Although, as the night drew on and Natasha still hadn't said anything, you were getting a little more... concerned.

You managed to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once inside, you tapped the earpiece repeatedly, praying Natasha would answer you.

"Romanoff where are you? Have you got the data?"

Silence

"Seriously, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you but this is childish now."

More silence

"I'll let you have the bed?"

Static rang out in your ear.

Of course SHIELD gave you a crappy ear piece. It was ridiculous. They provided you with three million dresses but couldn't give you a working piece of tech.

Just as you pulled out the burner phone, you felt a needle slide into your neck and the world went black.

~~~~~

"Y/n I have the data."

Nothing. Maybe you were still mad at her.

"Y/n do you copy?"

Still nothing.

"Y/n?"

Natasha's heart beat a little faster.

"Come on Y/n. I'm sorry. I'll let you have the bed?" Her burner phone pinged. It was your location. Shit.

~~~~~

You woke up and looked around, seeing that you were in the rundown hideout, you put your head back on the pillow. Everything felt heavy.

"You were drugged." Natasha states, standing in the corner of the room, her arms crossed and eyes never leaving you.

"Oh." It was all you could muster up the energy to say.

"We leave tomorrow morning."

You push yourself up into a sitting position. "How long was I out?"

"3 hours."

You looked at Natasha, really looked at her. "Then why are you still covered in blood?"

Everything of Natasha's had some kind of bloodstain. She hadn't even washed her hands. It may have been dark in the corner she was standing in, having only the side lamp to illuminate the room, but her skin seemingly glowed, making the blood stand out.

She turned around and left, heading towards the bathroom. You wanted to get up to follow her but while your mouth worked again, your legs did not. Apparently whatever they used on you was a lot stronger than you thought because you fell out of the bed. Again. Natasha rushed out, getting to you in an instant, except this time there were no sly remarks.

"Careful princess, people might think you care." You grin, only for it to drop immediately when you saw a slight wetness to the corners of her eyes. "Hey, it's okay." You said softly. If she wasn't as close to you, Natasha would have missed it.

"I didn't know where you were. I-I thought you had gone off to try and prove something and then I saw you lying there, in some basement Ivan had. You-you looked so... dead."

"But I'm not." you reached up and gingerly stroked her hair, not wanting to spook her. "And look!" You gestured to your toes that were wiggling "I can feel my legs again!"

Natasha let out a slightly wet laugh. "I'm really sorry."

"For what? These things happen all the time. Although I will say, you seem to be unlucky because my missions always go wrong with you." You nudged her shoulder, crossing your legs so you faced her, both of you still on the floor.

"For making you think you weren't attractive. For basically drugging you myself."

"Don't be ridiculous Natasha. You didn't drug me."

"I might as well have done! If I had just agreed with you instead of fighting you, then you wouldn't have felt like you had to prove anything."

"You think I'm attractive?"

"Seriously? That's what we're choosing to focus on now."

"Umm yes? I know it wasn't your fault at all but now I want to hear about how attractive I am." You smirked and Natasha stood up abruptly.

"I'm having a shower."

"Is that a nice cold shower for you to try to get over me?" You shouted as she slammed the door shut.

~~~~~

Natasha came out of the shower half an hour later, towel drying her hair.

"I think you're attractive too." You whispered out, half hoping Natasha wouldn't hear it.

She stilled. Looking at you, trying to see if you were lying.

"Then why do you hate me?"

"I don't think I do. Not anymore."

Natasha stayed silent, encouraging you to continue.

"I didn't like the avengers in general. You guys all act like you're so much better than us. You get all the perks of looking good and none of the paperwork. You don't know the amount of times I've seen top level agents filling out avenger paperwork when they should be out in the field. I thought you were all lazy but spending this week with you... well it made me realise that maybe you're not all that bad."

Natasha had moved herself to the bed, just watching you speak. You looked over to her, signalling that you had finished all that you wanted to say.

"I'm sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. I'll talk to the team about actually doing their paperwork. Who's the worst?" She asked, curiosity laced in her tone

"Steve."

Natasha let out a full blown laugh at that. "Wait seriously?"

"Yup. I see him all the time, constantly trying to offload his paperwork to someone else. I always thought it would be Tony but it's definitely Steve, then Bruce. Then it's probably Tony."

"I promise I'll try to make them stop."

"I wouldn't make promises you can't keep." You laughed.

"Why...why did you doubt me?" You asked, a little more serious than before.

"It's not that I doubted you... I guess I just didn't like the way you spoke to Ivan..."

"You mean the flirting?"

"Maybe..."

You sat in silence for a bit, you couldn't figure out why. It's not like it was against any rules and it all worked in your favour. Then, it clicked.

"Natasha Romanoff were you jealous!" You let out a slight gasp and grinned at her.

"No. No of course not." Natasha got defensive. There was no way she was jealous of that old, wrinkly, nasty smelling man.

"Aww princess!" You adjusted yourself so you were completely facing her. "I can flirt with you too if you want." Your voice got slightly lower and your eyelids dropped a fraction, making your pupils seem bigger. While you raised your voice a few octaves for Ivan, you knew that to seduce a woman you had to lower it a little.

"Stop it." Natasha hit you.

"But why baby?" You grabbed her chin and tilted her face towards you. "Now you don't have to be jealous." You sent her a wink and let her chin go, watching as her eyes got a little darker.

"Go away. I want nothing to do with you or your terrible flirting."

"You say my flirting is terrible" Your voice now back to normal, "But your body is saying something different."

"Wrong. My body is saying nothing."

"No?"

No."

"Okay then! Night night princess." You leant over to switch off the light when Natasha grabbed your arm, causing you to look back over to her.

"Calling me princess... it - ugh... well it -" Natasha looked conflicted before glancing up to you, looking at your lips and kissing you.

You were shocked. You knew you shouldn't have been. All the signs were there and you were a very good flirt but actually feeling her lips on yours made your brain short-circuit. You kissed her back and climbed into her lap.

"We're not doing it here." You said when you both broke the kiss

"Why not?" Natasha looked at you, her hands running all over you.

"Because I'm 90% sure there are rats and I really don't want to catch something"

Natasha laughed and kissed you a little more. "Fair enough. We should stop this now then."

You kissed her neck. "Yes. We should definitely stop now."

~~~~~

Just before you were due to leave, you called Natasha into the bedroom.

"Y/n, we have to go."

"I know I know but watch." You bounced excitedly as you threw a match at the bed.

"Y/n what the hell!?"

"Well, if you remember correctly, I said that if you crossed the pillow divide, I would burn the bed with you in it. As you can see, I'm generously leaving you out of the bed. You're welcome."

Natasha just looked at you. "I can't believe I like you."

"Aww you like me? That's kind of embarrassing for you." You laughed as you linked arms with her, walking to the jet, but not before Natasha convinced you to put out the fire on the bed.

You watched as the fire fizzled out and silently thanked that damn bed for bringing you and Natasha closer. Literally. It didn't mean you weren't going to have a long chat with Fury about proper size beds though.

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth. (m) 4

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: oc has a really… really bad day, rude customers, swearing, degradation, near sexual assault, panic attack, anxiety attack, mention of major character death, description of plane crash (be aware), kissing, making out, brief tongue action, sexual content

→ word count: 9.8k

authors note:

finally!!! we’ve FINALLY a made it to the next chapter of It’s Definitely You… I can not put into words how long this chapter took me, but i’m so beyond grateful that i was able to continue with this story cause we are SO CLOSE to getting the answers we’re looking for!!! i just want to say thank you to everyone who has been so so supportive and loving of this story— it means the absolute world to me that people are enjoying my writing and the story im telling! it’s so rewarding to know that i have people looking forward to the future chapters— almost as excited as i am to write them! thank you. from the bottom of my heart. i hope you enjoy!!

authors thanks:

thank you to everyone who has supported me thus far.. i’m sending all of you love! there was no beta-reader for this chapter, so bear with me if there are any mistakes!

please send in an ask if you like to be added to the tag list !!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you!

It's been an awful day.

No, worse than awful. The moment you walked through the academia cafe's wooden doors, you knew you were doomed.

Usually, evening shift leaders are meant to prepare cold brews, pastries, and, ya know, other necessary necessities for coffee shops. Usually, they help by preparing everything so that it's easier on the openers (aka you and Jimin), especially since they open at such an early time. Much to your dismay, not a single thing was prepped for this morning's shift.

Screw you, closers!

Jimin was absolutely fuming. The human sunshine himself? Yeah, him. He was bursting at the seams, fire and chaos dancing in his usually sweet and softened eyes. The innocence of Jimin seemed to fade away the moment he clocked into an absolute mess of a morning shift, knowing that he, the shift leader, was the one who had to patch it back up. You had helped him as much as you could, but truth be told, it left a damper on the rest of the day.

Everything seemed to go downhill from there.

The cold brew machine broke, a mess of nozzles breaking off the spout, cold brew splattered across previously cleaned surfaces, and the already stressed Jimin doubled in his stress levels. The pastries also had no expiration dates, causing him to contact the manager on a tangent, questioning when said pastries would expire— and telling him that last night's shift leader did absolutely nothing.

You've never heard Jimin talk ill of someone until today.

And when Jimin wasn't happy, no one was happy.

On top of that, he spilled an entire cube of cream across the backroom floor, soaking his backpack and causing the cardboard boxes holding coffee beans to rip and tear. This left Jimin in tears, but you promised him that you would clean it up— not wanting to make things worse for the poor guy. So, there you were, on your hands and knees, cleaning the flooded backroom of creamy hell.

This was not an ideal morning, but you were happy to help keep some of the stress from falling onto Jimin's shoulders.

Oh! And that's not all.

You decided that wearing a white shirt to work was a good idea! Why did you do that, you wonder? Hell knows! All you do know is that the cream accident wasn't the problem; it was the matcha accident soon after when you dropped an open bag of bright green matcha on yourself, leaving behind green stains all over the white surface of your top.

Screw you, matcha!

After spending a solid ten minutes scrubbing most of the green out of your shirt, (and convinced you were also wiping away the last of your sanity), the doors opened, and customers were welcomed into the cafe. You couldn't help but notice their curious eyes dropping down and gazing at your clothing, which is slightly clouded with a green tone in a splotchy pattern.

You love your job. You love your job. You love your job.

That's what you're currently chanting to yourself as you sit in the backroom, eyes watery and breathing labored while your heavy head sits in your hands. You had decided to take a break after spilling hot coffee on a customer, who ended up cussing you out before leaving in a tizzy. You hated letting people down—even customers who were ungrateful and snarky.

You bow your head, closing your eyes in an attempt to empty your mind.

Everything's okay. It's fine.

You try to comfort yourself, reminding your anxiety-filled brain that you have a West End opportunity coming up and that it won't be long till you leave this barista job behind. No more angry customers. There would be no more splotched green clothing, unless it was the green paint for Elphaba's appearance in Wicked The Musical.

It's not that you want to leave the cafe, but you are hoping for a change. And to pursue what you truly wanted to. Being able to avoid awful days like these was just the cherry on top.

The idea of theatre works like a charm. Your heart rate slows, and breathing regains its composure. For a moment, your head empties as you lay it against the wall behind you. You wish this feeling would remain until the end of your shift, but, unfortunately for you, it doesn't last long.

The second you feel like you're ready to get back out there, lifting yourself from your "backroom corner of sadness" and making your way to the cafe floor, Taehyung is standing at the front register. Suddenly, all that pressure comes racing back and seeps through every part of your body, deep down into the tiniest crevices and leaving you a mess.

What is he doing here?

Should you take his order?

Maybe you should wait a little longer and let Jimin handle it?

When he looks up from his phone, probably in an attempt to see who would assist him, his eyes meet yours. It feels like your heart fully stops, hands clammy as you wipe them on your apron, begging for Jimin to come to your aid. Alas, Jimin is making a frappuccino on the bar farthest from the register. You're thankful when you see Olivia, one of your other co-workers, make her way to the counter, greeting Taehyung and taking his order so that you don't have to.

You know you're a coward. You know that you should talk to him, especially since he's standing right in front of you with a neon "perfect opportunity" sign shining brightly above his head. And no matter how badly your heart wants to, your cowardice is the barricade in the way of its pursuit.

Taehyung isn't looking at you anymore but looking at the menu overhead— another "perfect opportunity" for you to sneak past Olivia, avoid his gaze, and make it to the bar unscathed. Luckily for you, Taehyung doesn't say anything other than his order.

When he finally strolls back to his small table in the corner, his cookie dough latte is in hand (courtesy of Jimin because you were too scared to make it-- assuming that you'll mess it up and embarrass yourself). Still, despite not having the courage to talk to him, you can't help but find yourself staring.

The last time you saw him was when you kissed him in your dream. When he had his warm arms around you, enveloping you in his gentle hold. They are now covered by a grey sweatshirt which keeps your eyes from wandering along the muscle beneath. The last time you saw him was when he kissed you and said he loved you. Taehyung loves you. Well, at least in your dream. But, God, how you wish it were real.

Instead, you're faced with the true reality: Taehyung's usually comforting eyes cast away from your own and a brick wall placed between the two of you, just waiting to be smashed down.

And it's all your fault.

"You're staring." Jimin coos from beside you, giving you a nudge with his arm. You offer him a glare that could pierce through the aforementioned brick wall, clearing your throat as you reach for the next order ticket. Jimin exhales in dissatisfaction, "You should just talk to him already."

"Wasn't that your job?" You question, remembering back to when Taehyung had asked to see Jimin last week. For the "project." A part of you believes that his need to vent was not regarding the theatre article. It was regarding you.

"Yes. It's my job to tell you that you should talk to him. This has gone on long enough, and no matter how much I loooove being a middleman to you, this is just getting ridiculous," Jimin states, his voice laced with the sound of sarcasm and exhaustion… You make a mental note to call him later and tell him how much you appreciate him. He's shaking his head as he finishes off another latte with the art of a flower, a creamy design atop the light brown surface.

It would be best if you still asked Jimin for latte art lessons, too.

Jimin continues, "Anyway… you should. He probably wants to talk it out just like you do."

You glance back over to Taehyung, whose head is now resting on his palm, looking over what you would assume to be notes for his project. You take a moment to appreciate his solitude, running your eyes across his loose black sweatpants and grey sweatshirt. You've never seen him this home-like before— but you're not complaining. Not in the slightest.

Even though he's looking at the paper, his eyes seem out of focus — what was he thinking about?

"Am I gonna get some help here, or should I leave?" A rough voice snaps, drawing your attention to the front register where a semi-tall man stands with an unsatisfied expression on his face. You take in a short breath, apologizing profusely as you scurry over to the register and eagerly ask for the man's order.

"Shouldn't you be doing your job?" The man continues, unamused, his voice spitting fire across the register and straight into your nerve endings. You pause, glancing up at him and wondering if you heard him correctly. Who the hell was this guy? He's removing his credit card from the back of his phone when he barks out his order. "A four-shot americano. Just black. Got it?"

You nod slowly, heart rate spiking at the man's tone of voice before you glance back down at the register screen. Usually, rude customers don't bother you all that much… but today, after everything that has happened earlier in the morning, you can't help but feel the stinging at the back of your eyes sooner than you expected. You were already close to crying before, but now it's as if it's going to spill out at any moment.

Don't cry. Don't.

You steal a shaky breath, tapping his order onto the register screen.

The man chuckles in an irritated manner. "Do you even speak?"

"Sorry… I uh— Uhm," you clear your throat anxiously, "is there anything else I can get for you today?"

The man bends down slightly, resting his hands on the counter with a sardonic grin glued to his face. You've never felt so uncomfortable in your life. His eyes pan over your name tag that sits on your apron. "Y/n."

Hearing your name formed on his lips makes you even more uncomfortable, which you thought was impossible. Apparently, you were wrong.

"I'll get started on your Americano… It'll be three thirty-nine." You say quietly, motioning for him to pay as you step over to the bar in hopes of getting as far from him as you can. Your hand shakes as you pick up the cup, pulling shots and placing it down below the espresso machine. Looking to the side, you spot Jimin talking to a customer about their order, totally unaware of the situation at hand.

"Make it extra good for me, yeah?" The man says, almost seductively, ignoring his card in the chip reader and focusing his attention on you.

You give him a nod, throat constricted with anxiety as you attempt to calm your shaking hands, spilling the tiniest bit of an espresso shot down the side of the cup. You tend to it quickly, wiping the trail of brown with a rag before drying your hands on your apron. You're thanking your bar skills, having been able to finish it quickly, before you're handing it to the man who is still grinning in your direction.

"Here you go, sir… Have a great day." You paint a smile on your face, which is smeared at the corners of your lips, unable to hide your ever-growing discomfort.

It's the moment you turn to walk towards Jimin that he speaks up again, voice deeper than before.

"Did you put in four shots?" He challenges, staring down at the cup in his calloused hands with a disgusted expression.

"Yes, sir." You respond.

"Then why does it look like you missed it?" He utters, turning it in his hold and showing you a line of espresso falling down the side. You missed a spot. Usually, it wasn't a big deal, but you can feel your heart drop to the floor.

"I paid for four shots. Is this a joke to you?" His voice grows louder word by word, echoing in your ears as your voice wavers in response.

"I'm.. I'm really sorry— I can remake it for you if you'd—"

"I'm going to be fucking late." He sneers, pushing the coffee cup forcefully in your direction before he leans across the counter. His eyes rake you up and down, and you swear you stop breathing. "You should make this up to me in a different way, yeah?"

You can't think straight. This was the first time in your life where you actually felt fearful of losing it. The man is staring at you, every inch of him screaming what your mother always warned you about: "stranger danger." A smirk returns to his face before you hear Jimin's footsteps behind you.

"Excuse me-"Jimin starts, voice strained in frustration, but before he can say another word, Taehyung is beside the man with his hand gripped onto his arm.

"I think it's time for you to leave," Taehyung says, voice low and eyes laced with disgust as he turns the asshole in his direction. Taehyung, although his build isn't as buff as the poor excuse for a man before him, he's still taller than him— and every part of you hopes that this guy would be intimidated. Taehyung hands the drink back to the customer, his stare unwavering. "It's four shots. So take it and leave."

The man scoffs, backing up from the counter with disbelief written on every inch of his face. "Who the hell are you?"

You look at Taehyung, whose hand is balled in a fist as he removes the customer's card from the reader with the other, holding it up to glance at the name. He looks absolutely livid, though his voice is controlled when he speaks. "Jared Stone, is it?"

The man stumbles forward to snatch his card quickly, eyes boring into Taehyungs.

"I'm a journalist." Taehyung continues, calmly, "And unless you want your name written in the newspaper, I'd suggest you leave before I pick up my pen."

You can tell that this "Jared" is starting to falter, believing Taehyung's slight fib, his arms lowering a bit as Taehyung glares at him with the most intense look you've seen on his beautiful face. Taehyung is usually all smiles-- kind eyes with a gentle tone. Like soft snowfall. His surface of genuity hides his ability to be cold and direct. Now, he's anything but soft. His hand is still sporting a fist, and he jerks his head in the direction of the door, coaxing Jared to leave the cafe as soon as possible.

"Fucking asshole," Jared mumbles under his breath, clocking Taehyung in the shoulder with force as he makes his way to the door, throwing his Americano down and splattering hot coffee along the tiled flooring. Customers gasp quietly as he bangs the door open, disappearing amidst the crowd outdoors as you struggle to catch your breath.

What the hell just happened?

"Are you okay?"

You glance back at Taehyung, his dark yet soft eyes studying your face as he once-overs your appearance.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" Now his voice is wavering; the cold lace in his voice is gone and replaced with concern. He's staring at you with every ounce of that concern plastered across his face. You can't help the flutter of your heart in response to having his attention again… the attention of the one person who has been ignoring your existence the past few weeks. But then again, what have you done to help that? Absolutely nothing.

Maybe that's why he looks away once you confirm that you're alright. Maybe that's why he gives you a nod and a "good" before making his way back to his table, albeit a little timidly. Maybe that's why he doesn't question you further and leaves you standing at the counter like a lost puppy, hopeful for the return of the one who loves you most.

When he said he loved you? That was a dream.

You can feel your lower lip quivering as you turn and rush to the back room, Americano frenzy left in your wake as you curl into yourself in the corner. You'll clean it up in a moment.

You know this is just a bad day out of many-- but it feels like everything has been going wrong. What you wanted most at this moment was the same touch of the man who haunts your dreams. You wish he would hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. And the one thing that used to be steady and solid was Taehyung's friendship. Now, even that is ruined.

You make a mental note to speak to him as soon as possible… but you feel way too small right now to even dream of being confrontational.

Maybe that's why you end up crying in the back room, alone, back to your "backroom corner of sadness" with smears of green atop your shirt and spilled coffee on your hands.

You're dreaming again.

It wouldn't take much convincing to know this fact, especially since this dream seems to pick up from the exact spot that your airport dream left off. It was the same lights that shone overhead like a glowing halo, the same aching yet excited feeling in your chest, the same brown backpack carry-on you're currently throwing over your shoulder. You definitely didn't pack light, even for your carry-on, so you can't imagine how heavy your actual luggage is.

How did you even pass luggage check-in?

—

Your thoughts wisp away as soon as the dream jumps to you sitting in your seat, evident from the low whirring of the engine and the uncomfortable leather seat you're sitting in. You've never been a huge fan of planes, since your parents thought it was a good idea to watch "Lost" in front of you right before one of the bumpiest plane rides of your entire life. Ever since that day, you've always been nerve-wracked while flying.

If Taehyung were here, it would probably be easier.

You knew that he wanted to come. You knew that he wanted to be your support system in person, especially during this time of excitement — but he had work and projects, and you had promised him that you'd survive a mere month without his hand to hold. You'd claimed that he would be your "virtual" hand, that you would think of him whenever things got tough, or you felt like you couldn't keep going. After all, he was only a call away.

He had said that he was grateful for this fact. And to stay safe. So, you plan to.

You're too busy admiring the blue sky above, clouds dancing, and creating shapes that only an artist's mind could see. You can see rabbits and dragons hidden within the layers of fog that make up the clouds. You're far too distracted to notice an old woman seating herself beside you. It's when she speaks that you finally fix your attention toward her.

"Is this seat taken?" The old woman smiles. She has light grey hair, kind eyes, and wrinkles that define her age to be over 60 at least. Despite this, she looks youthful and friendly, which makes your nerves feel lighter.

"No, it's all yours!" You return said smile, nodding to her as she places her carry-on beneath her feet. It's an embroidered floral bag; pink flowers cross in zig zags atop the brown surface.

"Where are you headed?" She questions, setting her wrinkly hands on her lap.

You smile gleefully. "I'm going to London, actually!" You can't help but laugh at the old woman's shocked expression.

"Wow! That's quite the plane ride you have ahead of you! It'll be worth it once you're there, though." She seems genuinely excited for you, unabashedly clapping her hands and heightening your excitement even more. You offer her thanks before resuming your study of clouds.

—

You wish you could control this dream, just to bask in the excitement for a little bit longer— but time skips abruptly to the takeoff, engine revving like a loud roar from a lion as it gains speed down the runway. For a moment, your heart palpitates, nerves returning full-fledged. Take off and landing is your least favorite part of flying, fearing the worst.

Within seconds, you feel a warm hand placed on yours. The old woman is smiling kindly at you, rubbing your skin gently in a nurturing way before she looks at you fondly.

"My husband was afraid of flying." She says, squeezing your hand before she resumes looking forward.

"Really?" You question.

"So much so that he used to grip my hand like a stress ball, absolutely crushed my fingers." The two of you laugh, a fond smile playing at her lips, which deepens the wrinkles on either side and makes her smile appear even larger.

"How did he get over it?" You ask, distracting yourself from the upward tilting of the plane that's finally taking its flight. A metal bird on solid wings that you have to keep reminding yourself of its purpose: to fly, not to fall.

"He just held onto me." She shrugs. "He passed away a few years ago, but we used to face all of our fears together. He said that I always made him feel safe enough to face anything."

"He must've been brave. I would have still been terrified." You laugh quietly, holding your breath as the plane finally takes its flight and dips the slightest bit.

She's smiling and laughing in response, a warmth of admiration crossing her features. "I don't think so; he was absolutely shaking."

"Poor guy, he must really love you to face that fear." You respond, finally calming down when you see that the plane has reached high enough without any issues. It allows you to reach down and grab a piece of gum from your bag, which you assume would make the popping of your ears cease.

"He did."

You smile fondly as you pop said piece of gum into your mouth, mint exploding across your tongue. The old woman and her husband remind you a lot of your relationship with Taehyung. He's your safety net, who made you feel as if you could achieve anything.

You loved him.

"Remember," the old woman starts, "tell your loved ones that you love them. You never know how long you have with them."

Your smile fades then, seeing her eyes slowly churn with gratitude, yet she can't hide the fact that she so obviously misses her husband.

"I'm so sorry for your loss.." You whisper, solemnly smiling towards the woman beside you.

"It's okay…" She pats your hand. "We'll be reunited soon enough."

—

Cell Phone Reminder Added:

Tell Taehyung you love him when you land.

—

Another time jump, and this time you can feel the turbulence jostling you within your seat, adding shock to your already fearful state. Your hands are still holding the old woman's hand, and tears are pricking at the back of your eyes like a prodding needle. You've been silently telling yourself that you're going to be okay for the past fifteen minutes, and yet every moment spent on this plane sends you into fifteen different stages of fight or flight mode. Mostly flight mode. You could probably fly this plane better than the pilots.

The loudspeaker crackles.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some weather changes. Please keep your seatbelts fastened in the meantime, and we'll be through it soon."

You wish you could say that the announcement eases your nerves, but the second bump of turbulence sends you nearly flying out of your seat, hushed whispers filling the nerve-riddled cabin. Obviously, you weren't the only one within this aircraft that was nervous. You can feel the old woman squeezing your hand again, but even she can't hide the look of terror upon her face.

Another intense jump of the aircraft sends your eyes squeezing shut, legs holding you still by the seat in front of you. You're confident that the passenger seated there is probably too distracted by the turbulence to be annoyed with your childish antics of seat kicking.

Another crackle of the loudspeaker nearly makes your racing heart stop beating.

"Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm… Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm…"

The message is repeating like a chant.

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder and spark of lightning sends the lights of the cabin flickering once, twice, then completely turning off, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. A sudden lurch downwards has you yelping, searching out the window for a sign of safety, but you're met with near darkness from the thunderous clouds around you, which block any form of vision.

The cabin is loud now. Cries and shouts are heard around you as you cover your ears in an attempt to regain control of your fear.

You'll be okay. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe…

Another plummet downwards forces the tears out of your eyes, a muffled scream filling your hands when your stomach jumps up and into your throat. Within seconds, the oxygen masks from above come falling down, and it takes you merely another second to reach for two of them, helping the old woman who is frozen in shock beside you to get her mask on before putting on your own.

You suddenly hear a piercing voice over the loudspeaker, which is crackling even more intensely than before. You hate that loudspeaker more by the second.

"Please prepare for impact."

That's when the screams of neighboring passengers start. A baby wailing in the back of the cabin has the tears pouring quickly down your cheeks. You can't think. You can't see. You wish you could turn on your phone and call Taehyung, but the repetitive swooping downward of the plane knocks you of your senses.

All you can do is remember the smile on his face while waving you goodbye. The loving eyes of a man who loves you. His soft hair flowing as he does a happy dance before you disappear around the corner-- a large smile present on his lips as he continuously sends finger hearts your way.

You wish you could tell him you love him too.

You pray that you will see him again…

It's when you finally underpass the clouds and see the ground quickly coming closer and closer that you stop crying, absolute terror freezing your body, and an immediate wash of acceptance overtaking you. The ground is coming on fast.

This is it.

It seems that every second that passes, another giant swoop of the aircraft takes its ascent. A single tear falls down your cheek when you're merely ten feet away in the plummeting plane.

The last words from your mouth are sincere and quiet:

"I love you, Tae."

A roar rumbles in your ears. You can feel an initial strike of pain from the ground's impact, muffled screams filling your ears, and then…

You jolt upright, a loud shriek escaping your lips as you grasp for any form of life that you can. This form of life happens to be your Phantom Of The Opera blanket, which you tug upwards while frantically scooting back towards your headboard. You can feel the sweat sticking to the polar bear pajamas that hug your legs, clinging to the material and making you feel even more claustrophobic than you already are. Your eyes are blurry, breathing heavy, and your heart is running a mile a minute.

For a moment, you think you're still on that plane. That you're hitting the ground with force and praying to stay alive.

It's only when your surroundings settle in; your warm yet sweat-covered bed sheets, wooden bedside table that is littered with pictures of you and your friends, and the low rumble of a storm outside; only then are you able to catch your breath.

Only then do the tears come crashing down, a tsunami of racing beats of your heart, and the teardrops that fall against your t-shirt.

It felt so real.

And yet it wasn't, you remind yourself, raising your teary eyes to see the "Wicked The Musical" poster that hangs like a trophy on your wall, flashes of lightning brightening the shadow of the window against said poster. Despite knowing that it was all a dream, you can't help but feel as if you're still falling. As if you're dead right at this moment and unable to accept that fact.

What if you are?

This thought scares you, the tears falling again as your hands tremble towards your nightstand in search of your phone. Once found, It's a quick venture for your contacts before you're pressing the call button.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

You bite your lip, the ringing on the line endless as if it was mocking you and your will to be alive.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

You try again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

No answer.

Again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

"Please pick up." You whisper, face crumpling at your lack of luck. Taehyung had always been so quick to answer you, but the flashing red of your nightstand alarm clock is reminding you of what time it actually is:

3:00 AM.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone—"

He's probably sleeping, yet you ignore this possibility and attempt to reach him one more time, cutting off the last call and immediately pressing the call button again.

What if you're actually dead? What if this is your life flashing before your eyes? What if—

A tired voice croaks across the line after just a few more rings. "Hello?"

"Taehyung?" You say, your tone panicked and shaking— which is very obvious since his once tired voice is suddenly wide awake when he responds.

"Y/n?" You can hear the rustling of his sheets, probably from him sitting up in alarm. "What's going on, love?"

You don't even register his slip, voice hiccuping from the sobs that are currently racking your throat. If it weren't for your complete lack of brainpower right now, you would probably be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of you. But how could you possibly not cry after a dream like that?

"Where- Where are you?" You question, clinging to your comforter as another round of sobs are released from your constricted throat.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here." His voice gently whispers, rustling continues, and suddenly you can hear his muffled footsteps over the line. "It's okay, talk to me.. what's going on?"

You blubber a bit, unable to form coherent words, but another hush from Taehyung and an "it's okay" helps you to get your words out.

"I had a- a dream. It was a plane crash, Tae." You cry, breathing slowing down ever so slightly. Your mind is still foggy, but you can feel your consciousness slowly coming back. "Where are you?"

There's dead silence on the line, the previous rustling and footsteps coming to a halt. For a moment, you think you lost him.

"Taehyung?" You whisper, another sob threatening your voice.

"Y/n." His tone is suddenly serious. "Stay right there. I'm on my way, okay? Just breathe. I'm coming." You can hear a jingling of what's most likely his keys and the door slamming shut. "I'm coming. Stay there."

"Okay." You sniffle quietly, hearing the line cut off, and you're left in the silence of your room once more. Without Taehyung's voice to distract you, the heart that beats rapidly in your chest seems to intensify its speed. Why had he gotten so serious after you told him what your dream was?

Ignoring this thought, you quickly lean over to turn on your light, which drowns the once darkroom in rich golden color.

You can see the polaroid pictures of you and Taehyung next to the wicked poster. He's smiling that same boxy smile that lights up a room, his eyes watching you pose for the picture. Not once did he look at the camera, you notice— his eyes were constantly on you. As if you could disappear at any moment, so he had to soak up as much as he could.

Although seeing him smile made your aftershock body relax just the tiniest bit more, you can still feel the fear within you.

You can still feel the initial pain of contact from that plummeting aircraft as it hit the earth's surface. It was as if it actually happened.

The scariest part?

A part of you is almost certain that it did.

He arrives quicker than you thought he would, a loud knock on the door disrupting your dazed-out state, which you haven't moved from since he hung up. If someone saw you at this moment, they would probably think you're crazy. Honestly… with how vivid that dream was… you probably are.

It took about five minutes of sitting there in the silence of your room for the regret to start sinking in; regret for forcing Taehyung up and out of bed at three o'clock in the morning when he could be happily asleep right now. But the moment you open the door, all your regrets cease at the sight of him.

He's got an extreme case of bed head, which he's attempting to hide with a beanie, but his hair is still wildly soaring this way and that— which you probably would've laughed at if it weren't for the circumstances. His face is drenched in concern, and a jacket is thrown haphazardly over himself, which seems to be partly off of his figure from what you'd assume was him running. He had to have been, judging by his labored breathing and snow-covered sweatpants that are painted with white up to his knees.

If you were in your right mind, you would probably be beckoning him in by now— but the only thing you can think to do is cry.

And that's exactly what you do.

You swear you see his own features crumple too, but his arms are around you before you can fully comprehend if you were seeing correctly, solid and warm as his embrace melts into you and consoles your beating heart. He rubs the back of your head with his hand, whispering into your ear and reminding you that everything's okay. The breath that fans along the skin of your cheek is warm and gentle, softening your erratic puffs of breath.

Within moments, he's removing his hat, discarding it on the table, and slowly moving you to the couch before seating himself beside you. His arm only leaves your back when you're fully seated, but it's quickly moving in front of you so that he can hold your hand. Constant touch. Constant reassurance. He's so good at calming you despite barely having to do it before… It's like he already knows what to do. Suddenly, he's the same boy from the rooftop—the same warm and comforting expression and the same soft hands that hold your own.

His smooth, deep voice breaks through your sniffling and thoughts. "Can you tell me what happened?"

With a nod, you begin explaining your dream. It might be all in your head, but Taehyung's face continues to grow paler and paler as you tell him the details. A shell shock look overtakes him in a way that makes your skin crawl. Maybe it's because it was such a dark dream; perhaps that's why he reacts the way he does. But it looks as if he had gone through it himself. His eyes are falling everywhere but on you, and his hand is steadfast on your own and gripping onto it like a lifeline.

"Y/n…" He whispers, his dark chocolate eyes resting on your hands— you try to ignore the fact that you notice a swarm of tears pricking his lower lash line. You don't have the right to call him out for expressing emotions, not after begging him to come over at three in the morning.

Still, "it was just a dream," you assure. Stating this seems to calm the last of your own fear, the weight within your chest dissipating to a dull ache-- still present but bearable.

"Yeah." He nods, quickly wiping the tears away and passing it off for brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It was just a dream." And despite this fact that bursts from his lips, you can still hear the fear within his voice. You don't want to question him in hopes that you'll avoid upsetting either one of you further… you've shed enough tears for one night.

Yet when he leans towards you to wrap his arms around you, tears remain tauntingly behind your eyes. His heart is beating rapidly beneath the thin material of his jacket, thundering hooves of a horse at full speed.

It reminds you a lot of your own heartbeat that night on the rooftop. Your heart too was beating fast enough to possibly jump out of your chest, taking you down the stairs and out of his sight before you had the chance to say no. Suddenly, his warm embrace feels cold. You still haven't talked to him about that night.

Talk to him.

You breathe, "Taehyung."

He hums in response, low and gravelly with his evident exhaustion.

"I'm sorry." You confess.

Taehyung removes you from his embrace, turning you towards him. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm here, and everything's okay now. Like you said, it's just a dre-"

"No." You interrupt, breathing deeply to summon up the courage you've never possessed. "I'm sorry for running away that night."

He stays silent for a moment. He's obviously connecting the dots and slowly coming to terms with what your apology was truly meant for. You can't blame him for being confused since you ignored each other for weeks before you called him over at three in the morning because of a silly nightmare. It's when his gentle eyes slowly meet yours that you know he's on the same page. He still doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry for being scared… I've never really experienced something like that, and I just… I ran like a coward." You fiddle with your fingers, the soles of your feet gliding against the carpet beneath them. "I'm not used to having someone in that way. An intimate way, I mean…" Your cheeks flush. "I've never even kissed anyone until that night."

"Y/n." He whispers, drawing your eyes back to his fond expression. He's looking at you in a way that makes your heart churn: soft, warm, understanding, and loving… all of this hidden within the chocolate of his irises. Gentle Taehyung. "I was too forward. That was completely my fault. I felt like I pushed my luck… and I didn't want to come across as overbearing, so I just felt it was better to distance myself. I didn't want to make you feel like you had to do something you didn't want to. I didn't want to hurt you."

His words are like a warm hug around your wavering heart. You didn't really think about how embarrassed he might have felt, giving his heart to you only to have it left on that rooftop in the cold chill of winter.

You know that you have to make it up to him.

There's a pause of silence in the room, deafening your senses… which must be the only reason why you have the confidence to say:

"Kiss me."

Taehyung looks baffled.

Well, it's too late now.

"A do-over." You add.

Taehyung looks torn, yet his eyes are glued to yours. You try to avoid his gaze, even though you were the one who mentioned kissing in the first place.

Finally, he whispers, "Y/n…"

"Kiss me… I promise I won't run." You explain, words nearly catching in the back of your throat from your increasing nerves. You really didn't think this through.

Taehyung's frozen; the color that was once gone from his face when you told him about your dream is now rushing full force back onto his cheeks. It warms your soul. He looks almost like a child but with an intensity that is anything but childlike. You can nearly feel your heart drop into your stomach.

"Are you sure?" He questions, eyes never leaving yours.

You nod. "I'm done being afraid."

And that's all he needs.

He's slow, like the tide on a lazy river, full of gentleness and cautiousness to ensure that you won't fall overboard. That you won't run away.

And you don't.

It feels like years until his lips are placed delicately on your own, as still as a rock but warm and soft to the touch, beckoning you into its heat. Taehyung is testing the waters, moving his lips ever so slightly against yours… as if he was questioning whether or not you truly wanted this. So, in a trance, you slowly move your lips against his in return, parting them and sinking into the motion.

It seems that this was the only way to reassure him, and you must have done something right— seeing as his hand strays from your wrist and works its way up your arm. His touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps snaking along your skin, his brows cinching as he leans in even closer to you, and finally parts his lips against yours, dipping to capture your lower lip between his.

If you said you weren't inwardly freaking out for a moment there, you would be lying. Not once have you ever kissed anyone like this. But this is Taehyung, and for some reason, after the initial shock, it feels as if you both have kissed dozens of times. It feels right. Good.

His hand is now snaking around your neck, pulling you in even further, which you didn't think was possible. You swear you can feel your heart jump into your throat when a soft moan escapes his lips as he sneaks his tongue along the line of your lips. Not knowing what else to do, you part your lips for his access.

Not once has a boy been able to give you the shivers, and yet here Taehyung is lowering the last of your resolve when his tongue slides into your mouth. Your face turns beet red when a hiccup uncontrollably constricts your throat.

Taehyung stops abruptly, breathing out softly and distancing himself by only a fraction, probably to make sure you're still alive while still being encompassed in your warmth. You're definitely alive. Still, you feel as if you have to pinch yourself to make sure.

A smile sinks onto his lips, and your heart flutters at the low chuckle that meets your ears. He's perfect… in every way. Your heart clenches from pure adoration for the man in front of you. He's all smiles, lips kiss bitten and eyes soft and gentle... Without being able to restrain yourself, you move back towards him and meet his lips once more.

Like a switch, Taehyung responds a bit quicker this time, resuming his tantalizing routine with his tongue within your mouth. His breath is hot, mingling with your own when you stretch your arm up to place your hand within the softness of his wavy hair. You feel as if you're starting to get the hang of this, smiling a bit and tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. You swear, the moment you release your own small sound (that you'll probably be embarrassed thinking about later), Taehyung becomes even more heated. He holds the sides of your face gently as if you're made of glass, but his lips say otherwise as they kiss you roughly.

Taehyung moves with you, laying you down on the couch so that he's hovering over you, carefully moving your legs with one hand to keep them from being crushed. All the same, he's keeping the smallest of distances between the two of you. Once you're fully situated, he finally takes the initiative to lay his weight down as his kiss deepens. You can feel the shock and sizzling heat traveling down to your stomach, making your head spin wildly— and obviously, Taehyung feels it too, judging by the low groan that breaks free from his lips.

"I missed you, Y/N." He breathes between kisses, transferring from your lips to your chin, to the side of your face, all the way over so he can take your earlobe between his teeth which sends shockwaves throughout you. How is he so good at this?

You agree with a hum, another small whimper escaping you as he continues his venture down to your neck.

"I mean it… I missed you so much." He repeats, pausing his movements to meet your lips again with a gentle kiss. He strokes your face with his free hand, the other clasped within yours (which you hadn't even noticed they were intertwined until now). "I miss you."

There's a break in his voice, and the slight tremble of his lower lip is throwing you off. Was he about to cry? A second ago, he was devouring you, and now he sounds like a lost puppy. Bless his soul.

"I'm right here." You whisper, running your hand through his hair to push his bangs out of the way. You want to get a good look at him, make sure he's okay. You ignore the catch in his throat.

"I still miss you." He repeats.

It takes a moment before he shakes his head, laughing with a quiet "sorry" before he sinks back down to kiss you. You don't question him further. In fact, you're too busy freaking out to question him further. You don't know where it came from, but a sudden surge of boldness overtakes you, and you're reaching for the lapels of his jacket, shifting it slightly.

Taehyung doesn't seem to be thrown off and is quick to respond, sitting up to remove it and throw it on the ground beside the couch. He's no longer damp from the sleet outside, but warm beneath.

With another deep kiss and a dip of his hips (which is stealing all the remaining breath out of your lungs), he reaches for the bottom of your shirt.

Just when you're about to move his hands up in an effort to get this shirt off, he pauses. You squirm a little, wanting skin-on-skin contact as soon as possible— but Taehyung is frozen.

"You okay?" You question, heat rushing to your cheeks at the notion that he might be overwhelmed. Maybe he doesn't want this much of you.

You're such an idiot.

You hold your breath. "If you don't…" You begin, eyes running in every direction, "… if you don't want to, that's oka-"

"No, no. No." He shakes his head quickly, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips… yet he still seems hesitant. "That's not it. Believe me. I want to."

You can feel your stomach flutter. He could lift one finger, and he'd have your heart soaring.

"It's just…" He pauses, breathing labored. "I have to tell you something… before this goes any further, there's something you need to know."

"What?" You whisper, eyes wide with concern. "Do you have any diseases?"

He laughs loudly at this, shaking his head which tousles his hair this way and that before he leans down to kiss your forehead. You're confused now… And horny. Not a good mix.

"Taehyung, just tell me already." You punch him playfully, hoping to resume this make-out session you've been waiting for for way too long.

He still seems nervous about continuing, his eyes wavering away from your questioning gaze. Every second he takes for silence is adding more nerves onto your chest… was it that serious?

"When I first met you…" He starts, licking his lower lip (which you've noticed is one of his nerve habits) before he finally meets your eyes. He might be slow-moving and sensual on the outside, but his eyes hold a deep churning of fear that makes the already evident goosebumps on your arms a bit more painful. "When I met you that day at the cafe… That wasn't the first time I met--"

Before he can finish, your phone rings. Blaring loud. You're annoyed for a moment, wondering who the hell was trying to get in touch with you at this specific time, but as soon as you see the name on the phone screen, you nearly pass out.

Hyun Do-yun, Film Out Theatre

Holy shit.

The audition. The video audition you sent for the West End audition.

You gasp loudly, reaching desperately for your phone on the coffee table. Taehyung is still hovering over you with curious eyes-- you would give anything to hear what he was going to say… but this call was way too important.

"Can I… It's a theatre opportunity." You whisper, unable to hide your nerves. Your heart is beating full force, just like it was a second ago when Taehyungs lips were on yours.

He nods quickly, smiling at you while he plays with the ends of your hair, keeping himself busy when you finally pick up the call.

"Hello?" You speak softly.

"Hi! Is this Y/N Y/L/N?" A voice of a middle-aged man speaks back.

"Yes, this is." You nod, glancing at Taehyung. He's looking at you fondly, continuing to play with your hair. So patient. Your heart swells.

"Perfect! This is Hyun Do-yun from Film Out Theatre Company! I'm calling regarding your audition for 'The Eternal'? I just wanted to let you know that we've accepted you for the in-person auditions on December 16th! Are you still able to be in London by then?"

You freeze, eyes locking wide on Taehyungs, which he seems to catch your surprise and is looking at you with a questioning stare. There's no way this could be happening. There's no way you just made out with Kim Taehyung, and now you're getting this call. There's absolutely no way. Your heart feels like it's about to combust, and it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings before you respond.

"Wow.. That is-! Wow, thank you!" You sputter, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm absolutely available; thank you so much."

"Perfect! I'll email you all of the information regarding callbacks, and we'll see you on December 16th!" He chuckles; a shuffling of papers is heard on the end of the line.

"Awesome. Thank you so much again!" You can't contain your smile, closing your eyes in glee before he finally says goodbye and hangs up the phone.

It takes you a moment to truly come back to your senses, the aura of warmth from Taehyungs body hovering above yours finally shaking you from your resolve. Still, he's looking at you with curious and elated eyes at the smile on your face… he must know it's good news!

"I got the callback, Tae." You choke out, excitement bubbling in your throat and causing your words to come out in nearly a squeak.

"What's the call back for?" Taehyung questions.

Oh right, you never even told him about this one— while you were too busy being an idiot and not making a move.

"It's a West End production called 'The Eternal'!! The lead role, Taehyung. The lead role!!"

His veiny hand that was previously playing with the ends of your hair hesitates for a split second, and a flash of something crosses his face. If he didn't immediately start smiling and shaking you with excitement, you might have asked him what that initial look was for-- but you're suddenly too overcome with excitement to care anymore.

"Y/n that is-- amazing." Taehyung beams, deeming it necessary to reward you with a quick peck on your lips. Every time he touches you, the previous thoughts of the audition-- what you were going to wear, your makeup, everything-- all of that seems to waver away in a fraction of a second. All you can think about is the fact that Kim Taehyung is on your couch, practically straddling you and kissing you as if you've always been his. As if this was something he was used to doing daily. If it weren't for your awareness of when you met him, you would probably think that he's known you for most of your life.

Despite the almost embarrassing fact that you're leaning in again to resume the kiss, he pulls away a bit with a smile.

"Woah, slow down. I want to know more about that audition." He's chuckling at your disappointed expression before you're flying through the details of the aforementioned audition. You tell him about the night that you got the email, how Kim Namjoon was the one who reached out to the director and gave you a good word. Taehyung sits quietly as you explain, his hand holding yours as he denies having anything to do with the fact that Kim Namjoon received a video of you singing. You don't believe him when he says that it wasn't him, but you continue anyway.

It may be in your imagination, but the more you speak of the audition, the more Taehyung seems to remove himself from your embrace. At the moment, you don't think anything of it. He's probably more intrigued that you, of all people, are receiving this kind of opportunity rather than the fact that the two of you were making out merely minutes ago.

"Wait..." You scoot up a bit, removing Taehyung completely from lying above you-- seating yourself across from him on the couch. "You we're going to say something to me before I got the call."

Taehyung freezes for a second, glancing at you before he quickly rushes out with a response. "Actually, it's not important."

You give him an "I don't buy it" look.

"Seriously, it was nothing." He insists with a laugh, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. He must know that touching you has a noticeable effect on your ability to function, especially since your eyes are falling to where the skin-on-skin contact occurred. Still, you press on.

"Taehyung, it was obviously not nothing..." You deadpan. "It took you a minute to even get the words out."

"Yeah! Because it was so stupid and didn't need to be said." He counters.

"You're a terrible liar." You respond.

Taehyung narrows his eyes towards you, pretending to be hurt by your comment.

"Come on, Tae, just tell-" But before you can fully get the words out, he leans over and lands a peck on your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours before he pulls away with a satisfied grin on his face.

You can feel your cheeks heating up, a small smile forcing its way onto your lips... This guy is dangerous. Despite this, you can't help but realize how wonderful it is to think about the fact that he could kiss you at any moment. That he wants to kiss you and hold you in the way that you've been hoping for for months. He has no idea how long you've waited for this.

He chuckles at your dazed expression, sighing quietly. "You should probably get some sleep... You have a shift tomorrow."

You stare. "How did you know that?"

Taehyung pauses. "You.. You always work on Fridays, right?"

You nod before throwing a grin his way, raising your hand to his wild hair that's grown wilder after your little rendezvous. "I guess I have a stalker now."

He looks at you incredulously, removing your hand from his head of hair with a quiet "am not." The two of you share a smile, enjoying the peacefulness that encompasses the room before he's finally raising himself from the couch. He's grabbing his things before you finally attempt to stand up with him-- and yet, he immediately stops you.

"Now, now. Your precious West End feet should never touch the floor again!" He says spiritedly, delicately placing you back onto the couch with a kiss. "I'll see myself out, okay? Get some rest."

You don't fight with him, enjoying his dramatics. He's making his way towards the door when he turns to offer you one last smile, blowing a kiss your way before he's disappearing out into the hallway.

For a second, you think that maybe this was just another dream. This whole night could not have happened... it was just way too unrealistic. Yet, here you were. After thousands of pinches later to make sure you were conscious, your eyes meet Taehyungs discarded beanie on your small dining table. He forgot it.

It's winter... he's going to freeze.

Without a second thought, you're leaping up towards the table, snatching his beanie while bounding towards the door to catch him.

Before you can fully leave your apartment entrance, you halt in your tracks, eyes widening slightly.

Taehyung had barely gone anywhere. He's standing in the hallway, his forehead resting against the hallway wall, with his arms placed above his head. Before you can call his name, he makes a quick movement as if he's going to punch it... your breath catches in your throat when he turns into view.

Is he crying?

Why is he crying?

His eyes are red as he grabs a fistful of his hair in both hands, pacing back and forth between the sides of the hallway. He looks completely shaken up. He seats himself on the ground, curling his legs up. You can hear quiet "shits" and "fucks" escaping his mouth as he hides his face in his hands, throwing you off slightly since you've never heard him outwardly cuss before. If it weren't for your fear of confrontation, you would probably be hugging him by now. You don't want to disturb him anyway... not when he probably thinks he's alone. Moments like this need privacy.

The last thing you see is Taehyung picking himself up, closing his eyes together as he attempts to control his breathing before he's shakily making his way towards the door.

If there was one thing Taehyung was bad at, it was hiding his emotions.

But he was, almost scarily, good at keeping secrets.

next chapter

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[cloudytaemin]

Sugar (Teaser)

Pairing: Taemin x Reader

Genre: Sugar Daddy AU, Smut, PWP, PWF

Series Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, Mental Illness, Depression, Alcohol, Sex, Daddy Kink, BDSM

Teaser Warnings: Pet names

WC: TBA

Teaser WC: 790

A/N: So.. listen. I'm not back permanently, this is a very small teaser that I have no clue if it'll become anything but.. jesus Taemin bogoshipda hit me in the fucking face LMFAO but no seriously I'm back! At a very different schedule, I'll post every few months most likely.

Taemin sighs as Dahyun looks at him, puppy-eyed. "I told you not to show up. I'm done with you, I'm finding someone else."

"B-but master!" Dahyun pleads, biting her lip.

"You got old, what more is there to say? I don't have time for worn out toys," he explains, ushering her outside of the door to his penthouse. "And I never liked being called master anyways." He slams the door in her face and slumps onto the couch nearby.

The young businessman picks up his smartphone and begins to scroll through his sugar baby app, as usual. Unlike most of the men around him and in his field, he was not in his late 30s and early 40s. At 25, Lee Taemin had made his name from the bottom up, but his hard work didn't mean he wasn't horny. Constantly.

As he scrolls, he comes across your profile. It took but a few seconds for him to click the chat button, sending you a short and sweet message.

T: Hello y/n, my name is Lee Taemin, your profile piques my interest, does coffee tomorrow at 3 pm work?

y/n: oh hi

y/n: sure, who's picking me up?

T: My driver will be at whatever location you please by 2:45.

y/n: sounds good, ill text it to you in a few minutes

Taemin found you to be particularly unenthusiastic seeing as you were on this app, but he ignored it for now. He knew you would learn how you should treat him once the two of you met.

The next day, he prepares the newest MacBook model and a pair of Beats for you. Since he was unaware of your fashion tastes, he decided that it would do until he could take you out properly.

You, on the other hand, hadn't put much effort into anything. While most people on that website used it for designer clothing and new things, you used it to pay your college tuition. It came with perks, sure, but school came before anything else that those old men wanted to give you. Taemin was nothing special to you, he had the same old message that every one of the about-to-croak old guys gave you. You'd suck their dicks and give it to them for a few weeks before moving on again.

Not expecting anyone attractive, mildly decent, or even nice, you wore a skimpy laced crop top and high-rise black ripped jeans. That usually gets them. His driver picks you up at exactly 2:45 like your newest source of income had said he would.

The cafe is surprisingly small and quiet, but still expensive and fancy. You're confused when there's only a single table sat at, the man being attractive and young. Exactly the opposite of what you're expecting. His smooth voice fills the air along with the soft instrumental in the coffee shop as he speaks to you. "You must be y/n, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yep, that's me," you respond, suddenly feeling underdressed for the occasion in front of Taemin. "You're Taemin?"

"I am. But that's not really how you should address me, is it?"

"No, daddy," the word rolls off your tongue easily, like butter. You've said it hundreds of times, but for him it somehow doesn't feel fitting in public. "I'm sorry... forgive me?"

"Anything for you, princess," Taemin responds, motioning for you to sit down. "Let's not start out with any sugarcoating, I'm not like your previous men. I'm sure you figured that out from the second that you walked in based on your facial expression. I don't consider myself to be a very rude person, I simply ask you follow the rules I set. Understood?" You nod.

"Number one is most likely the easiest to follow, listen to what I say. Number two, if I call for you, I expect you to be there unless someone is dying. Last, you don't give the orders. I do. If I ask for something, I expect it to be done by you. You don't get to ask me to do something for you if it doesn't involve money, especially in bed. Keep in mind these are loose terms and mean whatever I want them to. Got it?"

"Yes daddy," you reply.

"Now, princess, go home, and I'll take you out tomorrow. Nothing happens for the first week besides interaction. I should know you before I feel you." Taemin stands shortly and is gone in just a moment.

You spend the night pondering over the young businessman, wondering how in the world you had managed to make such a score. He paid your college tuition AND wouldn't be a pain to fuck? It's your dream come true.

[katsukikitten]

WARNINGS: 18+ DUB CON/ NON CON? WEREWOLF BAKUGOU, THIS IS PURE FILTH JUST PURE SMUT 

You were never the best at running, especially not through the woods. So it is no surprise your heel snaps off causing you to trip over a small log. Your pelvis bone connects with the thick trunk, brushing your hip as your dress threatens to expose your underwear. 

A howl is heard in the distance paired with something moving through the brush at an ungodly speed, gaining on you much faster than you thought. 

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself, panting as branches seem to reach out. Their sharp, splintered claws grabbing at you and only catching your body con dress. Tearing it piece by piece, you are unsure if your faux bunny ears are still atop your head.It was unfathomable how wrong tonight had gone and how quickly. 

But then again it was Halloween and a full moon at that. They say the full moon has the power to make people act crazy and especially so on a blue moon.  Which made your panicked mind wander to the rumors about this town and what happens every blue moon. There were whispers of the older families having dark secrets. Fairy tales of beasts and mating but a second full moon in a month was so rare those murmurs and scoffs were supposed to be just that, rumors, stories. 

Not actual werewolves who couldn't control their urges during this magical event. The blue moon either filling them with unchecked rage or undeniable lust should they not take the necessary precautions. Although no one would say what exactly those precautions are. 

Your first hint about the rumors being true should have been the local news station. You thought it a Halloween prank when they advised women ages of 20 to 30 to remain indoors for tonight, to lock their windows and doors. To adorn their throats in silver to protect them from unwanted bonding. You had rolled your eyes as you got ready for your daily college classes, jumping into your black skinny jeans and blood red sweater.  

Your second hint should have been the absence of your good friend Kirishima. He always walked you to your English class since his history course was in the same building but this morning he was a no show. He didn't even respond to your texts last night asking if he wanted to go to a Halloween party with you. 

Your final hint should have been when the normally aloof, irritable and "untouchable of the big three" lab partner you had for biology growled in your direction. This would be the first thing he had said all semester.

"Don't go out tonight, got it extra?" His voice is clipped and he is acting strange, his left hand gripping onto his right forearm so harshly a bruise was beginning to bloom. You chalk it up to nerves for the upcoming exams. 

"Oh is someone gonna bite me like the news anchor said?" You giggle, turning your focus back on your work only for the professor to cancel class early. You pack your things as Bakugou sits rigid, still. He fixes you a harsh glare before he stands, pulling the strap of your purse causing you to become a little off balance.  His eyes dance over your frame, over your exposed neck but you do not notice, barely see his canines elongate as he snarls. 

"You'll wish that's all that they did." 

Looking back you wish you had noticed it before, then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you were in now.

You burst through the trees and find yourself in a clearing. Here you would a sitting duck to whatever the hell was chasing you. Still not believing your eyes and you crossed paths with a giant wolf. Fur golden in the moon light and eyes a haunting, gut wrenching familiar red. It wasn't too long after that did it give chase. 

The howl behind you is too close for comfort as you barely have time to jump into a patch of briars and thick prickly bushes that sit on the edge of a creek. By some odd instinct you grab onto the ice cold mud and smear your arms and part of your neck with it, clenching your jaw so your teeth do not chatter. 

Suddenly a large beast bursts into the clearing, wet nose sniffing at the air and ground before it shifts in the clearing under the moonlight. It is a haunting sight. Bones snap and grind as features twist into grotesque angels until it finally forms into that handsome familiar face. The ash blonde fur retreats until it is only on the top of his head, faded beneath while the top looks finger brushed and wild. He is shirtless and his pants are torn from the calf down, the only beastly feature he keeps is the glow of his blood red eyes. You swallow, biting your lip to stop from shaking; this is not the Bakugou you knew. Not that you knew him that well in the first place but there was some power in having a crush. You had learned his mannerisms in the first year here at University, somehow always in a class with him, with one of the three legendary "heartthrobs" of the school. He was as hot headed as the rumors said and he was just as handsome if not more so. Itching for a fight and yet oddly quiet when in close proximity to you. An action you took to mean he either hated you or didn't even know you existed. 

So it's safe to say you're unfamiliar with this manic, wolfish grin. 

Feral incarnate. 

He sniffs the air. 

"Where are you little ooooonnne?" He calls cruelly, "I can smell you." 

His body goes through the motions of tensing and relaxing, another howl breaks through the eerie silence but this time much farther away. Bakugou's ears perk, his grin twisting in such a way it screams malice, unbridled rage and yet excitement. 

"You must be in your mortal heat. Guess I'm not the only one who can smell it. Didn't I tell you not to go out tonight?" His voice is dark, haunting as the wind catches down from you, carrying your scent away from him. 

"I knew your dumb ass would ignore me, I took a precaution to that and yet you didn't even bring your fucking purse?!" 

Your purse? 

Is that how that red cloth and weird silver dollar got into the bottom of your purse? 

Bakugou shifts his weight, giving his back to you as he prepares for something coming that you cannot hear. In the meantime you allow your eyes to study his physic, following his scarred back, broad shoulders all the way down to his deadly hands. One of his palms is burned in the shape of a perfect circle, you swallow thickly. The sound causes his ears to twitch and look over his shoulder, making eye contact with you through the brush. 

But he does not have time to react as a black furred beast with glowing ruby eyes jumps into the clearing. Sniffing the air wildly before baring his teeth towards Bakugou. The beast huffs and growls before finally shifting into his human form, a cold sweat settles in your bones. 

"Where the fuck is she?" You have never heard your friend use a tone so dark as Eijiro continues to pace, keeping his eyes glued to Bakugou. 

"Fuck off Kirishima, shes mine." 

"I don't see a bonding mark on her yet." Its more a feral growl than anything, "You said you didn't waste your time on mortals." 

"I fucking changed my mind. And you know why, her smell is…" He inhales deeply, testing to see how much of you can be sensed. The most he can tell is that you're close by but he cannot pinpoint you, he fights to keep his eyes from falling over his shoulders to see you. 

He's dying to know how you masked your scent without with an Alpha's pheromones or a silver piece. But that would have to wait, at least if he wanted to ensure it was his seed that stuffed you. He bites his lip, the thought sends a shiver down his spine. First he had to deal with Kirishima then he could take his time making you his. 

"Well you know how it is don't ya? Didn't know you were such a pervert, Eiji. Is that why you walked her to class? Hoping she'd make you her boyfriend or some sappy shit?" Bakugou taunts, head tilting in mock question, "Guess you can't hold back anymore can you? Dreaming about giving her your knot?" 

Kirishima bares his teeth, fighting the urge to buck at another Alpha, especially one he knows he will have to fight with full force. He opens his sharp toothed mouth to retort but yet another beast finds it's way into the clearing coming from the opposite of Kirishima but to the right of Bakugou. 

The beast looks wild, heterochromatic eyes glisten beneath the full moon as white and red fur clash all the way down his spine. A collar around his throat catches the light as a broken chain drags across the ground, there are shackles around his wrists and ankles as well. Bakugou smirks, adrenaline fueling his excitement over what is about to be a damn good fight. 

"You watchin little slut? Look at what your scent can do." He changes his stance into that of a fight, "You've got two normally non aggressive Aplahs ready to get their asses handed to them and for fucking what?"

The three of them shift their eyes and bodies this way and that before Bakugou licks his teeth.  

"God I can't wait to bury my face in that soaked pussy." He lunges, transforming mid leap into a hauntingly powerful wolf. His teeth are exposed, lip curled up in a snarl as his targets Kirishima first.  Kirishima barely shape shifts in time, pearly white teeth sink deep into his shoulder before gnashing at his throat. Deafening growls and yowling surround the clearing. Kirishima attempts to kick Bakugou off of him as they tumble closer to who you assume is Todoroki who bares his teeth. He launches himself at the other Alphas. His teeth find purchase in Bakugou's shoulder, blood staining white and blonde fur a like. There is no yelp or howl, just a stomach churning growl before Bakugou turns his attention towards the two toned wolf. Snapping his jaw as he attempts to get a grip on the chained wolf who dodges. Bakugou's teeth gleam with dripping crimson, a snarl of warning before he propels himself towards Todoroki. Sharp teeth bite at two toned fur as Shoto bares his teeth, growling, snapping his jaw at his opponent. Kirishima begins to get to his feet, limping as he avoid putting weight onto one of his front legs, crimson drips down onto the chilled dirt. He keeps his ruby red eyes on the two dancing wolves.

Bakugou strikes faster than Todoroki can dodge, and angry teeth clamp down at Todoroki's throat. The collar snaps from the force before Bakugou sinks his fangs deep into Todoroki's throat. 

An ear ringing yelp is heard as blood pools into Bakugou's stained muzzle, white fur marred in crimson as Todoroki begins to sway. As the hot head's jaw is locked onto tender flesh, Kirishima attacks. Biting at the nape of Bakugou's neck and yanking him from Todoroki with force, tossing him with ease. The light colored wolf flies into trees snapping the thick oaks as if they were twigs. Buying some time for the two injured wolves, any other alpha would have seen this as a win, knowing the two from rival families would retreat to lick their wounds. 

But Bakugou was no normal alpha. This gut clenching fight taught you as much. Todoroki struggles to keep consciousness, his throat dripping an insane amount of blood. He falls to his side huffing almost wheezing before he shifts back into human form, shackles shrinking to readjust to his wrists. Kirishima whines nudging at the unconscious, possibly dead man. All the while crimson red eyes peer through the unsettled dust before soaring through the air, landing on top of the black wolf. Pinning his back onto the ground as dark paws claw at bared teeth. Trying desperately to keep him at bay but with one fucked front paw it is a futile attempt. Quickly Bakugou overpowers him, sinking his teeth too deep into his friend's throat and keeping his muzzle there until the whining and yelping stops. Until he too shifts back to his human form. 

You fight to keep your own whimpering in, still hidden in the brush while you hoped, prayed that he somehow got disoriented. That he forgot where you were. 

His head snaps towards you, mouth dripping saliva and thick red blood. His eyes glow as his stalks closer. He stops just before the underbrush shifting back into that devilishly handsome face. He is soaked in blood, scratches line his face and chest. He wipes at his mouth but not once does his fist wipe away the cocky smile he holds. 

He scares you but what scares you most is how your body is reacting to such a gruesome sight. A muscular man dripping in sticky red, droplets tracing the outline of his abs and a smile of triumph as two people lie wounded, possibly dead behind him. It made your pussy throb, the strength, the raw need and want to win and for what? For you, for your essence and the promise of a futile womb. 

He can smell your fear as he yanks you from the bushes and thorns. 

"Don't worry, it's not my blood." He grins, pulling you closer to him as you try to push away. Just like you're trying to push away these odd feelings that swirl in your chest, in your stomach; of a weird pride and arousal. It was of no use, like pushing dead weight up a forty five degree hill, this too was a losing battle.  

"K..kirishima." Your eyes are glued to his unmoving body, causing a deep rage to form in Bakugou's chest. He grips your chin forcing you to look at him his other hand goes straight for your sex, cupping the underwear allowing his fingers to swipe over the damp fabric. 

"Don't you ever say his fucking name while you're wet for me. Got it?" His fingers are causing divots in your cheeks as you whimper from his contrasting touch. Harsh grip, soft strokes. As if reading your mind he takes a deep breath, not meaning to inhale so much of you.  

"They ain't dead, you're worth the trouble. But not that much trouble. Now focus on me." He let's go of you, drinking you in smirking when he sees your costume. Or what's left of it anyway. 

Thick irony that you would choose to be a bunny of all nights. He fingers the fake ears with earnest. 

"Fitting." He purrs before taking both of his hands to the front collar of your dress, ripping the fabric from your torso. He growls audibly mumbling to himself "Much better." As you stand with your tits exposed, your lacy underwear catching his attention beneath fishnet tights. He bites his bottom lip, pulling you to him as he buries his face into your tits. Nipping sucking and biting as he eases your buckling legs towards the ground. 

"Fuuuuck." He groans, pressing his cheek harshly against yours, trying to scent you as best he can without claiming you fully.  It's hard, fuck is it hard. It always has been, since his first class with you.  

You weren't a beta nor an omega. Hell you were of no wolf relation and yet you reeked, oozed of pheromones that drove him and apparently the others mad. He had tried to protect you, he really had, scenting a piece of an old t-shirt and even burning himself on silver. 

He wanted you, he needed you, his cock ached for you. Weeping now at your arousal making his canines ache with an even greater pain. 

But you were fucking mortal and he was betrothed. Technically all three of the aplahs in that clearing were betrothed to omegas.  It was evident your smell seduced them as well. 

He brings himself to your shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood, claws, stuck halfway between human and wolf, rake down your back and ass making ribbons of the flesh. Still you moan and he occasionally swallows those whole as he kisses you. Letting you taste copper as his tongue placates yours, he subconsciously secretes soothing and lustful hormones and they are strong enough to make even you high. His hand finds your nipple and when you arch into him he loses his shit. Breaking the kiss to sniff you, nosing and biting until he finds that sweet spot. He opens his mouth, salivating at the thought as his teeth and cock beg for relief. He freezes, squeezing you to him for a moment. The action causes your ribs to creak in protest and yet you feel warm, safe. 

His mouth hovers over your pulse point, the salty sweet taste of you, breaths away from the exact spot he would need to sink his aching teeth into to make you his.  

In a quick motion and a test of will he shoves you onto your back, ripping at the fabric between your thighs after he forces your legs open. You do nothing to stop him, not that could. 

Not that you would.  

He slips his tongue between your folds and licks up, swirling the wet muscle when you buck against him. He hooks his arms around your legs gaining control over your hips and eats. 

See Bakugou is a glutton and he will not stop until he is satisfied. It would be a gift and a curse for you.  

He works his mouth against you thoroughly as the coil in your stomach snaps over and over again. Your hand fisting his hair as you cry out in hoarse gasps, legs shaking around his head, thighs squeezing his skull as he coaxes another high from you. 

Your entire body is shaking, worn out already from however long he sucked, nipped and lapped at your core. Finally he seemed to come up for air but only to watch your sex convulse. He looks up to you causing your heart to skip a beat. His hair is that much more wild, his intense gaze glowing red in the low light and his face glistens with your slick.

"Fuck!" You cry out, letting your head fall back into the ground. 

"What's wrong bunny? Can't handle a little head?" He shoves two fingers deeply into you making a come here motion. You ride another body quaking high as he tries to stretch you to accommodate him. His breathing becomes frantic, as he chases a smell you're emitting. Thrusting harshly into you as his other hand abusesyour clit until that deliciously addicting smell he's chasing crescendos. Your scream echoes in the woods as clear liquid shoots over Bakugou's forearms, all the while you held fluttering eye contact, practically melting in his hands. His fangs grow and he cannot hold himself back any longer. He shoves his pants all the way down, even off of his ankles as he sinks his lengthy girth into you in a snap of his hips. A mixture of pain and pleasure shoot through you like a live wire as you begin to mewl, needing him to move. 

"More, more." You whine, tears prick your eyes as he smiles a deadly smirk. 

"You're such a talkative cock sleeve. You want my knot that bad? Then take it." He thrusts into you setting a deep harsh pace. Alternating between quick succession and slow deep throats. Biting at the skin of your chest and shoulders, torturing you in such a way.  

Punishing you for being mortal. 

"Why?" It's a guttural growl as your mind is lost on another plane, "Why do you have to be mortal?" 

He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips earning him a lovely raspy moan from you.

"I want to...to fucking mark you.  Make you mine. The thought of any other alpha or even fucking human touching you…." His thoughts have him chasing two very dangerous highs, snapping his hips so he comes closer to your throat.  

"Please...please Bakugou." You whimpering encourages him. 

He breathes you in, tasting you without even a flicker of his tongue. Your arousal, your damp hair sticking to the column of your throat, the faint scent of your shampoo. 

Somehow he reigns himself in again. Teeth elongated enough they almost scrape your skin.  His breath comes out hot and heavy as you squirm beneath him for friction, wanting nothing more than to be filled. If he does this, if he makes you his mate, it would surely complicate everything. 

"You have to tell me you want it." He's panting, vulnerable as he looks at you, your heart shatters from the look. Deafening reason and logic as it screams how badly you want to be his and he yours. 

"Not just because it feels fucking good right now." His voice is husky, rasped as he fights the weight of his instincts, "Not because I'm fucking hot or a novelty to you mortals. If I mark you, you'll always feel something for me and vice versa. We'll be tethered and attracted to one another even if we fucking hate each other." 

Slowly you nod, again he grabs onto your chin, sliding it down to your throat as he squeezes. 

"This isn't some good acid trip, this isnt some fucking dream. You'll have to meet the elders. You'll have to deal with my ruts." Again he's panting, shaking from holding himself back, having half a mind to just kill you. Still you do not move away from his touch. 

"My jealousy. My rage. My need for territory control. I'll come home dripping in blood. I'll kill other Alpahs." He breathes your name in such a way you clench around him. He growls from the sensation. You struggle to speak beneath his grip, head floating but some how in the right spot. 

"I...I can handle it. Mark me Bakugou Katsuki. Fucking make me yours, fill me use me. Just…" He stares into your eyes until he can no longer take it. Pounding into you in a harsh pace, finally giving in  

"You'll take my knot like a good slut won't you?" His eyes watch you nod before they fall to your breasts. Watching them bounce from the force of his thrusts. His hips turn sloppy as your high builds again. You claw at his back and his smells your high as he tries to time it right. He sinks his teeth into your throat, keeping it just a hair above a marking. 

You feel a growing pressure as his tip stretches you even more until he finally sinks his teeth into you with a grown. His thrusts stuttering as hot ropes paint your walls. Your cunt flutters around it as all you can do is become limp in his grip. His arms are fully around you, his mouth still to your throat as he slowly eases up. His body giving off a bonding hormone so strong that even your moral senses can pick up on. It you drown in a high scented in spice caramel and heat.  He pants heavily, his arms shaking as he kisses you fiercely, teeth bumping into yours before he pulls back.

Weakly you claw at him to hold him as he whispers praises. He lifts you, pulling you towards his chest to keep you safe as you begin to drift. His mouth is pressed to your ear and you can hear the cocky smile in his voice. 

"Get some rest while you still can mate." His hand snakes around to your stomach, his fingers lightly caressing the skin.

"We aren't done until you're carrying my pups."

Tags

@katsukisprincess @avellanagamer100 @bakugotrashpanda my number one fan

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Please Me Oikawa's Oasis: Part 1

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+, MINORS DNI⚠️

Welcome to week 4 of the Please Me Series!  A collaboration with @axoxtxhxh! This weeks theme is Virginity Loss featuring Oikawa and Goshiki!  This weeks fics are broken into 3 parts! Please check out Joey’s fic, Guiding Goshiki!  I will link it in the Please Me master list!  

Warnings: Swearing, bad pick up lines

Word Count: 2,000

The sound of Volleyball hitting the floor and shoes shuffling around in the hard wood is all to familiar to Toru Oikawa.

He was finally, living out his dreams as a professional volleyball player. It’s all he ever wanted to do, all he had ever thought about from the time he was a young kid.

After high-school, his goals became centered around making his dream a reality. To accomplish this, he knew he would have to sacrifice a lot. Forgoing his personal life in order to pursue his main objective.

The thought never really bothered Torū. He was always popular with his fans, however none of them seemed to understand his deep desire for the sport he loved so much.

After countless failed high school relationships, he put his personal life on hold in order to pursue something more favorable.

He was given the opportunity to move to Argentina and become a member of Club Atletico San Juan. He jumped at the chance to further is professional career and move abroad, gaining citizenship to a country world renowned for its athletes. His dream was finally becoming a reality

Entering the training gym, Oikawa was anything but nervous. He knew his skills as a setter were exceptional and he always aimed to improve in any way he could. His specialty outside of setting was serving, which is what attracted the recruiters to him. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the bright gym for the first time, preparing to achieve his goals.

“Ahh Oikawa! It’s great to finally meet you” the San Juan teams head coach said as he greeted Oikawa with a smooth smile and a firm handshake.

“The pleasure is all mine sir” Oikawa says as he watches the various members begin to practice.

Oikawa was amazed at the level of skill he saw. These players were on an entirely different level, a level that only served to excited him more.

“Well, it’s probably best if you just join in. I’d like to see your abilities up close” coach says as Oikawa nod, running over to great the members of his new team.

“Hello everyone! My name is Torū Oikawa and it would be my pleasure to set for you” he smirks as the players study Oikawa closely.

Torū had always had a rather flamboyant personality. Often being the stand out character in a room. It never bothered him when others made comments about him because he was confident in himself as a person and as a setter.

The team looked at him, nodding as the captain made his way towards Torū.

“Show us what you’ve got Oikawa” the captain says as he signals for the spikers to form a line “the best way to learn is by doing.”

“I couldn’t agree more” Oikawa smirks as he turns heading close to the net.

“By the way, I prefer if you can get the toss as high so I can have time to correct the positioning if needed” he remarks as the men prepare for spiking practice.

One by one, the players toss the ball to Oikawa as he sends set after set to the players.

“I’m sorry, that one was a little long” he signals to one of the spikers “I can tell by your approach, you favor balls close to the next. I’ll adjust.”

The player nodded to Oikawa and the next player stepped up, tossing the ball to Oikawa.

“Man his adaptation skills are incredible” on of the assistant coaches says as the head coach watched Oikawa closely.

The door opens as the men shift to see a figure pushing open the door with their foot, emerging into the gym with a basket full of freshly laundered jerseys.

Letting out a deep breath, you sigh as you set the basket down, moving onto your next task of refilling the now empty water bottles.

You had been the team’s manager for almost 3 years now. You loved your job so much. The perks were fantastic and the pay was stellar. You worked long hours and traveled a lot but that never hindered your life. You actually enjoyed seeing the world with your team.

Grabbing the bottles, you begin to head for the fountain when the coach approaches you.

“YN, I’m going to need you to prepare a jersey for our newest team member. His name should be on the sheet I gave you this morning. Please have it ready by the end of the week” the coach asks as you nod in agreement.

“I’ll work on it as soon as possible sir”

“Thank you YN. We would really be lost without you” he says as you smile back, eyes glancing towards the gym floor.

You knew a new member would be starting soon. You had heard rumors of one, Torū Oikawa. You had seen his skills on many videos as the team prepared for his arrival. You took notes from what you could see so that you could immediately start helping the promising new setter.

You eyes glanced towards the net as they were met with gorgeous chocolate orbs. The young setter stared at you in wonder as you smiled sweetly, moving towards the door to fill the water bottles.

God you are so pretty Oikawa thinks to himself as he fails to hear the shouts of his teammates, as a tossed volleyball hurls straight for his head.

As you reach the door, a loud SMACK sounded causing you to turn your head towards the men to see the new setter rubbing his head feverishly.

Oh, this one’s a klutz you think to yourself as you roll your eyes, setting the bottles down and running to see if the setter was ok.

“Are you ok?” You ask running up to the new setter, trying to ignore the snickers of the other players as you check him over.

Oikawa rubs his head as he looks up to you.

“I hope you know CPR” he says looking up to you.

“Omg is it that serious?”

“No, it’s because you just took my breath away” he says smiling at you as you roll your eyes walking away as the rest of the players laugh at Oikawa’s cheesy line.

You get up, moving back to the door grabbing the water bottles and walking out.

Great another Romeo you think to yourself as you snicker lightly, remembering the young man’s pick-up line.

“He is pretty funny I’ll have to admit” you under your breath, smiling a little as you fill the teams water bottles.

“Hey Oikawa, are you sure you’re, ok?” the captain says laughing lightly.

Oikawa shakes his head smiling “if there’s one thing I’m accustomed to, it’s getting hit in the head with a volleyball.”

The team laughs as Oikawa looks to the door where you exited.

Of course, you were stunning. Oikawa had seen his far share of women but none quite gave off the radiance you did.

“Hey man�� the captain said placing his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder “don’t worry about YN. She just takes her job serious. She’s not really one for screwing around.”

Oikawa nods as he looks back at the door, watching you reenter the gym. He had to admit, he admired how determined you were to do your job. And your cold tone wasn’t going to deter the great king, Torū Oikawa.

“Okey doke then guys, let’s get back to it” he says shaking his hands as he returns to his spot at the net as the next spiker tosses to him, sending a set perfectly to the spiker.

You watched in awe at the new team member. You have to admit, the man was good. He seemed to take the sport of Volleyball more seriously than his pick up game. You smiled as you watched the men hit spike after spike, kill after kill. It was refreshing to have such an invigorating member join the team.

“Alight guys, time to wrap it up” the coach yells as he grabs his clipboard “YN will you lock up tonight after your done please? Also leave the nets up tonight. We will have the gym open early for practice.”

“Of course, coach” you say smiling as the team grabs their towels and water bottles, leaving to change.

You went about your business, finishing laundry, logging notes and filing a few pieces of papers.

“Just mopping left” you say as you sign, leaving your office and heading to the gym.

The sound of volleyballs hitting the gym floor radiated from down the hall way.

What is someone still doing here you wonder to yourself as you walk into the gym, checking your watch.

You see a panting Oikawa, tossing a ball up, serving over the net with such intensity.

Your eyes widened as you body jumped at the power he held. His serves were so strong, so intense and so fast. How can anyone stop them?

“It’s not polite to stare” he says as your concentration is broken as you look over to him, smiling at you as he wipes his face off.

“Oh, I wasn’t staring- I just came to umm, I just came to mop up the gym floor” you said stuttering as you walk in, putting your bag down.

“Oh, I apologize. The coach said it was ok for me to practice” he said as he continues to try and cool down.

“No worries, I have sometime. I can wait” you say as you turn heading to sit down. “Oh and by the way, that last serve was out by like a centimeter” you say sitting down, pulling your phone out of your bag.

“Ughhhh” Oikawa says as he grabs his hair and pulls on it as you snicker.

You continue to watch Oikawa practice, 10 minutes turns into an hour, which turns into an hour and a half. While you didn’t want to interrupt his practice, you knew he needed to rest. You could tell he was overexerting himself.

You got up to talk with him when he sent up a serve, landing incorrectly on his leg and wincing.

Your eyes widen as you run to him.

“Ok that’s enough tonight, Oikawa. You’re going to hurt yourself” you said as you grab the ball from him.

“It’s fine YN, this happens all the time” he says wincing at the pain radiating from his knee. He really did overdo it.

“Alright well I don’t care how often it happens, I’m closing practice” you say grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the bench.

“YN –” he says before you interrupt him.

“It’s my job to make sure you don’t overdo it. I’m not doing my job if our setter can’t set after his first day” you say as you help Oikawa to the bench, running to grab an ice pack and a hot pack.

“Here, we will do 15 minutes cold, 15 minutes warm. Then I’ll wrap it” you say as you check his knee.

“Thanks, YN” he says sweetly as you smiley at him.

“No worries, Oikawa, it’s my job” you say as you out the ice on his knee, helping to reduce the bit of inflammation that was forming.

“When you get back home, you’ll need to take anti-inflamories. Do it every 4 hours and you should be ok!”

Oikawa looks at you as you help ice his knee, you really were something else.

“Alright” you say as you wrap his knee up “let’s get you home.”

You help Oikawa to get to the changing room, as you quickly go to mop up the gym floor. You turn off the lights to see Oikawa waiting for you at the doors.

“yoo-hoo Yn-chan” he says waving frantically at you as you roll your eyes at him braking into a smile.

“Yn-what?” You say as you help Oikawa out the front doors, locking the building behind you.

“It’s a personal greeting in Japanese. Often used for close friends” he says smirking at you.

“Oh so we are close friends now are we?” You say as you walk with him towards the dorms he was staying at

“O f course, we are YN-chan! Why wouldn’t we be!” he says smiling at you as you laugh lightly.

“You really are something else Oikawa” you say as you wave him off, heading towards your own dorm.

So are you YN, so are you.

Taglist: @serostapesweat @chaotic-nick @lovelyzabrak-meadow @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes