#some random comedy I’ve put together for the last few days

[yttmnm5]

I’m BAAAAAACK! And this time, I’ve delivered in a case of the sillies!!!

[imrryr]

“post the last few lines of your WIP" meme, courtesy of @stealthnoodle. Anyone who wants to do this absolutely should! :)

So I can’t post the last few lines because this doc I’m working on today is a giant mess of completed scenes, unconnected paragraphs, and random sentences that I typed in the vain hope that I can fit them in somewhere later, but here are two as yet unconnected bits of a scene from a Mass Effect Femshep/Jack story I’ve been working on for the past 84 years.

For context, it takes place on the Citadel in a sliver of time just before Priority: Earth. Shepard, Jack, and Zaeed have joined a tournament at the Armax arena while the Normandy is being refitted. The hard part has been trying to keep a humorous tone while all sentient life in the galaxy is being methodically wiped out by the Reapers ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

She’d never liked hospitals. Who did? Lots of judgmental doctors and nurses telling you where to go and what to do and who not to throw a shockwave at. Like sorry, but that fucking Cerberus trooper they had under guard fucking deserved it. Recognized that asshole from Grissom…

Anyway, this time she kept her hands firmly clasped behind her back and patiently ignored everyone who looked at her sideways until she found the door she was searching for.

And there was Zaeed, lying on a bed with his injured foot propped up on a pillow. Every free inch of his room, the wall, the tables, the chairs, was covered in bright flowers. The sight brought a big smile to her lips. It had to be Shepard’s doing.

He lay there, looking out the window and seemingly oblivious to the utter absurdity of his surroundings.

Unable to find a place to sit, Jack settled for the edge of the bed.

“Hey, careful,” he grumbled. He slid his foot, protected inside an enormous cast, as far away from Jack as possible.

She would’ve apologized, but eh...

Instead, Jack nodded in lieu of a greeting as she looked out on the Presidium. Hospitals still sucked, but she had to admit that Huerta Memorial had a pretty sweet view. The window made up one entire side of the room, and the gentle curving arc of the Presidium stretched out before her.

A minute passed. Things got quiet. She’d spoken to Zaeed alone a few times back in the good old suicide mission days. He’d wisely kept his mouth shut that first time she’d come on board – said nothing about her tattoos or what she chose to wear, and never once asked about any of the more prickly bits of her past life (i.e. any of it).

All taken together, it had elevated him to a spot on her ‘only kill if he gets in my way’ list.

When it was just the two of them, they tended to talk about… well, take a guess. It wasn’t horticulture. She frowned, scratching the back of her hand. Today was clearly proving to be a very strange day. “When’s the operation?”

Zaeed grumbled. “Tomorrow morning. Told them it’d better be over by nightfall. Don’t want to miss the match.”

“Really excited to see us lose, huh?”

“You’d better not. I’ve got fifty thousand credits on that match. Who’s replacing me anyway?”

“Some asari chick. Supposed to be famous on Thessia or something, I don’t know.”

“Huh. She any good?”

Jack shrugged. “If she isn’t, Shepard and I will just have to carry the weight ourselves. Nothing we haven’t done before.”

Zaeed grunted. “You’re real goddamn hilarious, you know that?”

(snip)

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes – well, the good one at least – went wide as if that innocuous question alone had blown his mind.

Still, Jack pressed on. There wasn’t, after all, anyone else she could think to put the question to. “If you asked Shepard out, where would you take her?”

Surprisingly, the answer came without a second’s hesitation. “Easy. ‘This One’s House of Plentiful Amusements. It’s that new Hanar comedy club down on Zakeera Ward.’”

“A comedy club? Really?”  

“Yeah, I figure once I asked her out, she wouldn’t stop laughing for a good three or four hours. Might as well take her someplace appropriate, right?”

She let out a long breath. What was this, Give Sarcastic Advice to Jack Day? Gritting her teeth, she asked, “And what if it was me?”

“Uh…” he visibly swallowed, “No offense, but you’re not my type.”

Fuck you, Zaeed. “No, where would I take her out?”

“Oh.” His brow furrowed. “Don’t know? Someplace with a lot of goddamned explosions, I guess. Or, judging from a year of experience, just follow her around for a day and the explosions will come to you.”

Jack hummed in thought. True enough, she thought.

“You know,” he continued, “these painkillers must be really damned powerful, because I could swear that you’re asking me for relationship advice.”

Ugh. “Forget I said anything.”

Zaeed ignored her. “Everyone’s gone fucking respectable. Kasumi’s working on the Crucible, Garrus is a military advisor, and look at you, I bet you haven’t crashed a space-station into a moon in at least a month.”

Jack rolled her eyes. “No, but I’ve thought about it,” she said with a laugh. As far as the Citadel was concerned it might be an improvement. The trick would be finding a large enough moon.

“And me, I’m sittin’ here with my thumb up my ass.”

“It’s probably too late to be having a mid-life crisis, Zaeed.”

“It’s this goddamned bed,” he said, grunting as he tried to sit up. “Gives a man too much time to think. Damned nurse took away my omni-tool. He said ‘Towers of Hanoi‘ was going to give me an aneurysm.”

“Hmm. I’ll give Kasumi a call, maybe she can hook you up with something.”

He nodded, relieved. “Look,” he said, that good eye fixed on her. “I think you should do whatever keeps the team together. When Shepard puts something together, nothing in galaxy can stop it. Only way I see us winning this fucking war.” He stretched, adding in a yawn for good measure. “Besides, I’m hoping if Shepard lets me stick around long enough she’ll hook me up with a pension plan.”

Yeah, thanks, Zaeed. The sad thing was she could picture Shepard fighting the Alliance to set something like that up. A second suicide mission to rival the first.

“Haven’t had this much fun in years. Blowing shit up and feeling like a hero afterwards? Not used to that. Feels good, you know what I mean?”

Jack sighed. Yeah. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world.

She could only think of one thing that would make it better.

[halfelven]

Genuine question, what movies are you talking about in that post? Bc I can't think of any that fit that description but I'm also not a big movie person so I may just have been lucky with the ones I've seen dkjsfa

disclaimer! don’t @ me saying to watch better movies! i do! i just watch a LOT of movies! i like to see what’s going out there since i study media*

also i know this is badly written. i have not pulled myself together after a very long year and a half

this got rambly so i’m putting my tl;dr here: comedy feels stagnant to me, and that makes me feel weird when it comes to things (some of which are aimed at kids/teens)

okay so if you don’t watch a lot of movies you probably missed them! the kind of movies i was thinking about are mostly comedies that are aimed at teens but really just don’t feel right. just stupid forgettable movies that will have a random adult (maybe a teacher) make some comment about back in their day. and they just feel off in a very specific way where it’s like idk who is writing this but i don’t think they have a grasp of what is going on

probably due to being rich

i am terrible with titles and names and i’m currently in the wilderness so i’m not too confident matching scenes to titles

(also that post was slamming together a few themes i’ve seen repeated in different movies and shows and they are not all american. some are canadian/uk/australia but i use the ‘too movies’ or ‘too much (blank) on tv’ thing as a joke)

also some of the movies/shows are marketed to adults not teens. they also carry with some of those themes. um. working moms (show) is canadian and i’m not sure if they’re millennial or gen x but they have a lot of weird recurring issues with ‘ooh scary generation gap with my kids.’

and i think um. i’m trying to remember the name. idk it stars the australian woman who was in pitch perfect and she’s in a coma and wakes up 20 years later and goes back to school and they make the slur jokes. that is the one i watched most recently. i was having a hard time with trying to figure out who the target audience was… can’t remember the name and i watched it last week

another movie i can’t remember the name of that i think was marketed at teens also had the weird ‘oh the climate change protest kids just want attention’ gimmick that the movie with the pitch perfect woman had

is sarah jessica parker gen x? her new sec and the city show is Wild. one of the groups presentations in my media discourse class was about the representation of sexual minorities between the old sex and the city and the new sex and the city. i can try to find one of the articles they referenced in that because how the new one is almost more isolating is really interesting

which is kind of a trend? a ohh boo hoo don’t yell at me mean minorities!! i’m trying!! kind of vibe that runs through a lot of new movies/shows

like there is this distinct weirdness that is coming in with media created by white female comedians (i say female bc i tend to watch movies with female leads) amy palmer or pohler or whatever her name is. she has a movie out like 5 years ago? it had this teenage girl finding her mom’s old punk albums or something

but basically i had been watching a bunch of comedy things with female leads and so many are just weird. like it was leaving me wondering like what are the shows/movies teens are getting that feel somewhat authentic?

obviously movies are weird and there aren’t a lot of good ones that really stand out. and there have been constant jokes about how young people are portrayed in media for forever probably

but i think that movies are a good medium for comfort and hope, maybe especially for children and teens. you don’t have to have the energy to read to yourself. you can watch it when you’re doing something else with your hands. or are sick.

it’s the visuals. and the music. the way you can do something else while getting a story. they are very human.

and comedies are much harder to do than dramas. but they have a different sort of catharsis. i don’t know. people tend to downplay them as just stupid when there is a deep connection humans try to have through humour. i’m rambling but i just really love comedies and i love stories for children and stories for teens and i think they’re all downplayed as. being stupid. or easy. like you don’t have to try.

i’m sorry this just turned into rambling. maybe writers just went too far with the ‘set things in high school bc a.) kids will make emotional decisions that you wouldn’t see an adult character make b.) your characters are trapped in that environment c.) unlike college, they are trapped with other characters on mostly the same schedule and d.) they still see breakups etc as life and death situations’ advice that they give writers (this is paraphrased from several screenwriting guides i’ve read)

but idk i’m just bothered by the comedies i’ve been watching. and comedies do tend to show a lot about the current state of the world. comedies and horror are both downplayed genres that show a lot.

again sorry this is rambly. i don’t have energy to find my sources. there are interesting theories on comedy out there that just make me feel weird about what i’m seeing. like it’s so stagnant. that’s my tl;dr

most comedies i’ve seen lately seem stagnant

*i have a degree in this so i feel bad that i’m not pulling sources bc it feels like plagiarism at points

[yayeetsonny]

Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?” 

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

//

Not edited.

[floralseokjin]

final sleigh drabble #1

❛ a few hours later...❜

original oneshot here // drabble index here 

kim seokjin x reader  smut, comedy  8,156 words (🥴)

Rushing to the door as you heard the low knock against the wood, you took a few deep breaths before yanking it open, knowing what was about to happen once Seokjin stepped inside. 

He smiled as you came into view, a tiny one that seemed to round his cheeks something crazy. Something inside you went a little gooey. He was dressed in a thin black sweater that hugged his body, a basic silver chain hanging around the neckline. You were half expecting him to turn up in another one of his Christmas jumpers — the one he had been wearing earlier was still embedded inside your brain, but mainly because of what you’d been doing... Seven hours ago you’d thrown caution to the wind and participated in something that could 1000% get you fired. Although... It had been your idea, so. 

“Hey,” you said with a smile, feeling momentarily a little awkward. This was no innocent visit after all. He was here to have sex with you. Please, he’d begged. Let me fuck you. The memory of his words were enough to tinge your cheeks a darker shade. 

“Hey,” he greeted, taking the first step inside. For a brief second his face appeared not so far from yours and you wondered if he was about to kiss you. You had kissed with abandon earlier on in the day after all. But instead, his lips flickered up into a smirk. He was amused as he spoke. “Pizza guy just pulled up too.” 

“Oh.” It took a moment for your brain to process what he was telling you. “Let me grab my purse.” 

You toddled off, into your living room and through to the kitchen, leaving him by the open door. Jerk, you thought, realising he’d been messing with you, or at least, that’s what you thought. Who knew, and you weren’t about to ask him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

When you got back to your entryway Seokjin had his wallet out in front of the pizza delivery guy, fishing for bills. “What are you doing?” You demanded. 

Seokjin shrugged. “I’ll pay, it’s no big deal.” 

“No way.” You thrust inside your purse, eager to beat him. 

“Y/N.” It sounded as if he was half warning you, voice low. 

“It was my idea, I’m paying.” 

Inviting him over just for sex seemed a little... crude, for lack of a better word, so suggesting pizza helped soften the intent – in your eyes. 

Seokjin looked at you incredulously and when he realised you weren’t going to give in, he sighed loudly. “Let’s go dutch then, I am eating half after all.” 

“Fine.” You weren’t happy about it, but fine. 

You both handed your cash to the delivery guy who had watched the whole exchange wordlessly. You took the boxes from him and waited as he counted out your change. 

“Here,” he said, reaching his hand out to pass it to Seokjin, who shook his head. 

“She can have it.” 

The guy changed direction, holding his arm out as he waited for you to take it (hands full, mind you...). 

“No, you can have it,” you told Seokjin. 

He turned his head, dismissing you. “I don’t want it.” 

You choked out a noise of frustration. However “gooey” you’d been feeling five minutes ago had well and truly disappeared now. Nothing had changed, despite what had happened earlier, he was still an annoying ass when he wanted to be. 

“Can someone just take it?” The delivery guy exclaimed, causing you to startle. “I have five other pizzas getting cold.” 

“Fine,” you hissed, displeased by his attitude. Yes, okay, you were wasting his time but no need to be so rude about it. “Put it on the box.” You glanced at Seokjin, seeing him try to hold back his laughter. That just annoyed you more. 

“Wash your hands,” you ordered him as soon as the mannerless delivery guy left. 

He slipped his sneakers off and followed you into the kitchen, stopping halfway as you dropped the pizza boxes onto your coffee table. He washed his hands in silence, absentmindedly looking around the room, as if he was getting familiar with the place again, and then it dawned on you; he’d been here before. Last weekend, after your drunken make out session that had resulted in him packing you off to bed with a glass of water... Your memories were still hazy, but it was something. 

As you washed your hands too, you noticed Seokjin watching down at you with a smile that had you feeling a little uneasy. “What?” 

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“Nothing,” he shrugged, but his eyes twinkled more than usual, the last syllable bubbling in his throat as he held back another laugh. 

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him something. You didn’t know what, maybe to shut up? But then he shifted, moving in one swift motion to lean in and kiss you. 

You made a small shocked noise as he pressed his lips against yours, eyes wide open even though his were fluttered closed, but soon enough you relaxed, settling into his touch as he cupped your hips, yours reaching to grip under his elbows. 

He pulled back suddenly, grinning. “This is the best. All I have to do is kiss you and you shut up.” 

Huh? “You can’t weaponise kissing, Seokjin,” you scowled. 

“Wanna bet?” And he was on you once more, you, miraculously quiet again. His mouth was a little more eager now, presses harder as your lips glided together, and your mind was quickly becoming cloudy. Kissing Seokjin was a little addictive. You couldn’t hate it even if you tried. 

“Mhm.” He groaned a little against you, sending your lips tingling. “I swear I just experienced the slowest 3 hours of my life.” 

You had to agree. From half 5 to now, you’d been practically counting down the minutes. 

“Actually,” he added as an afterthought. “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since we had to stop.” 

You couldn’t help but smile, fingers lifting to play with the chain around his neck. Since when did he accessorise, and why was it so hot? 

“Well, you’re here now,” you said, your voice a little softer than you’d expected it to be, but whatever, Seokjin wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him. You’d leave it slide. 

“Come,” he jerked his head in the direction of your living room, taking your hands in his. “Pizza first, you’ll need your energy.” 

The wink he gave you was completely uncalled for. Your legs instantly felt a little shaky.

.

.

You spent maybe an hour eating and chatting a little. It was a little strange to be having a proper conversation with Seokjin, in light of what you both had been this past six months, but when you thought about it, you’d shared numerous conversations ever since you’d began the Christmas party planning, so it wasn’t too bizarre. Actually, it was nice. You felt less nervous about the obvious direction tonight would soon go. 

You scrolled Netflix, choosing Brooklyn Nine-Nine as background noise as you were in the middle of binging the series and it was something light and funny to fill the sometimes small silences that fell between you. Only, Seokjin informed you he’d already watched all available seasons three times and that meant he could recite any given episode on cue. It was slightly endearing watching him go, if not mildly annoying too, but whatever, he was enjoying himself. 

You didn’t know who started kissing who soon enough, it might very well have been you. One minute you were sneaking looks his way, checking out his biceps in that sinful sweater and the next you were wrapped up against his body, tongues furiously crashing together. The line had been crossed once again, only this time things were leading somewhere even more exciting. 

You were ready for this. You’d showered before he’d arrived, made sure there were no stray hairs poking out of random places on your body – because this afternoon had taken you by surprise, but now you were prepared. You had your sexiest lingerie on, a black lace two piece that you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. It seemed to show more skin than cover it, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You’d even painted your god damn toenails. You wanted to knock his proverbial socks off. 

Your phone was on silent, no room for interruptions no matter whose house was on fire. Ana had already been informed of your dick appointment, and while her first instinct had been to gloat, you’d stopped her right in her tracks. You didn’t want to hear it and you didn’t want to hear from her tonight, because she often liked to call you when she was bored – very often. 

Tonight you were going to get laid and nothing was going to get in your way. It had been a long six months, and yes, it was sex with Seokjin, but honestly, that just made it better. You thought back to this afternoon, how good it had felt to be touched by him and how hard he’d made you cum. You didn’t want to jinx things, but you had very high hopes for tonight... 

“This afternoon feels like a dream,” he confessed against your mouth, taking the moment to pull you onto his lap, his hands snaking their way down to ass to give it a firm squeeze, rolling you into his crotch. 

You let out a throaty groan, mouth open, giving him perfect access to lick into it, stealing your tongue to suck the muscle gently. You clutched tightly to the nape of his neck, catching some of the small hairs and he moaned. You were under the impression Seokjin liked having his hair tugged... 

“It definitely happened,” you grinned as he pulled away, and you took the opportunity to nibble on his plump bottom lip. 

“I don’t know, you’re going to have to remind me...” He gave a throaty chuckle, nudging his hips and you felt the very obvious bulge in his jeans. 

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” You laughed at a sudden memory, placing your hands on Seokjin’s chest to ease up. “No one had a clue.” 

He held your wrists, keeping you to him as he laughed along. “Not even Jungkook. He was so oblivious.” 

“Even with the lame excuse with the cake.” 

“Hey,” he whined, “in my defence, I panicked.” 

Humming, you leaned in to press against his lips, pulling back before he could part them. “Yeah, we probably should’ve thought of a reason beforehand.” Terrible lack of judgement on your part. 

“Do you think?” Seokjin asked rhetorically, impatient as he lunged to kiss you, clasping your arms tight to your side to keep you still until they strayed, caressing your sides, ghosting the sides of your breasts. Your skin felt electric, despite the layers that blocked his touch. 

You squealed as he gripped your hips, finding your back flush with the sofa cushions in an instant. Seokjin liked to throw his strength around a lot too it seemed. Not that you were complaining, it was hot, and you spread your legs, letting him nestle between them as his mouth found yours again. You clutched at his shoulders, gasping into the kiss from the sheer want you were feeling. 

“Been waiting so long to get my hands on this body,” he grunted against you; leaving you wondering if he meant all day, or longer? The way he was tugging at your mouth with his made you want to believe it was the latter... Ridiculous, but maybe... 

Hands riding up your shirt as you moaned in agreement, he made goosebumps appear against your stomach, his fingers glided along the hot skin, and then, suddenly, they were on the buttons of your jeans, fiddling in haste. 

Anything more was wasting time, and your stomach leaped with anticipation, knowing you didn’t need to wait much longer. Soon he’d be fucking you. You were beside yourself.

An exasperated sigh stole your attention and you felt Seokjin move, kneeling between your legs, sofa cushions dipping with the weight as he yanked at the waistband of your jeans, a groan leaving him now. 

“Why do you insist on wearing sex proof clothing?” 

You used your elbows to sit up a little, narrowing your eyes at his dramatics. “They’re jeans, Seokjin. Hardly difficult to take off.” Yes, admittedly there were a few more buttons than usual but they were simple to undo. You reached down, swatting his hands out the way to unfasten them. “There. See.” 

You watched his bottom lip stick out slightly, his voice small and annoyed as he spoke. “I wanted to do that.” 

“Shut up,” you scoffed lightly, grabbing his arms to tug him back to you. You went to kiss him but he was moving you again, hooking his hands around you waist to prop you up. 

His mouth found the crook of your neck, half pinning you to the sofa as his right hand slipped into your jeans, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers found your clit above your underwear, rubbing you firmly a few times before he slid down to your opening, feeling and hearing how wet you’d already become. It had soaked through your panties no issue at all.   

Seokjin let out a tight grunt as he felt it, lifting his hand to bypass the lace and feel you for real. It was pretty restricted down there, your jeans still snug around your hips but he made it work, rubbing your whole mound, spreading your arousal. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to fuck you...” He murmured, although his voice wasn’t particularly soft, more thick with lust. He was sucking on your earlobe, working out you liked that very much by now and you struggled to gain your bearings. “Be inside you...” 

“Mhmm,” you moaned in agreement, the noise breaking in half when you felt him insert a finger inside of you. 

Again, room was tight and even though he couldn’t finger you like he wanted he still made it feel amazing – or probably you were just too far gone now. Everything he was doing was driving you wild. You dragged your hands up and down his torso, clinging onto any muscle you came across. 

“I swear you haven’t felt nothing yet,” he informed you, mouth tight to your jaw and your moans turned into mild tugs for breath if anything, your head falling back against the edge of the sofa. “Jiin–“ 

He paused his kisses, his hand following suit trapped in your underwear. “Jin?” He repeated, tilting his head back to meet your eyes, his left eyebrow ever so slightly lifting. “Why did you call me that?” 

What was he going on about? You were hot and desperate and here he was suddenly questioning you. “It’s your name, isn’t it?” 

He looked mildly concerned. “You’ve never called me that before.” 

You breathed out a confused laugh. “Am I not allowed? Everyone else calls you it.” 

His expression grew softer, sincerity pooling in his words. “You’re not everyone else though. I love it when you call me Seokjin.” 

You had to admit you were a little speechless. You knew in the past you’d never used the shortened version of his name because you refused to be friendly with him like everyone else. ‘Seokjin’ held a distance between you, or so you’d thought... In reality it had become something special between you both... 

“Fine,” you whispered, pushing your hips into his hand as you moaned lightly, catching his eyes. “Seokjiin.”

He found that funny – you both did, laughing together before you lifted a hand to play with his necklace, giving him a small smile. “Wanna go to my room now?”

You lead him by the hand all the way and he followed you eagerly, eyes hungry. You switched on the lamp by your bed, and safe inside your room he got a little distracted, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar setting, as if he was soaking it all in, but that only lasted for a little while, something, or someone, far more interesting needing his attention. His gaze found you stood at the foot of your bed. 

You followed the hand that tugged at his crotch and noticed the now incredibly visible tent inside his jeans. Your gut lurched as he strode towards you. “Come here,” he breathed, reaching for you, and just like that his lips were on yours again. Somehow you ended up in his arms again, his hands firmly cupping your ass as you clung on, moaning into his mouth as your enjoyment started to reach breaking point. 

You squealed out his name when you felt him lift his knees to the bed, dropping you down to cage you under his body. 

“I got you. Relax,” he chuckled, finding your reaction amusing as you squeezed your fingers into his biceps. A low noise emitted from his throat as he nosed at your neck, mumbling into your skin, “I love feeling you touch me.” 

Your heartbeat skyrocketed, sure he could feel your pulse against his lips and you moaned a little too loudly when you felt his teeth bite down on the flesh, continuing his descent down to your collarbones and chest before it became too much and began to tickle you. 

“You’re really finding that ticklish?” He asked curiously, lifting his head to catch a look at your face. 

You nodded, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you stroked down his arms, a little pleased now that you knew it drove him crazy. 

He smirked down at you, his eyes near black. It totally altered his face – his whole demeanour actually. “Do you like a little pain, Y/N?”

He had to see the mild shock on his face, but you quickly composed yourself. Where had that come from? His mouth seemed to run wild when he was turned on, if the storage room was anything to go by, and you found yourself enjoying it immensely. You hooked your hands around his neck as you sat up and he eased away, kneeling straighter. Your teeth reached to nip his bottom lip. “Depends on what kind,” you purred as he hissed at the sensation. 

He watched you lean back, never taking his eyes off you as you removed your arms from his neck to pull your shirt over your head. Immediately he stood up, his sweater gone in one swift motion as he dropped it at his feet. You soaked in the view, his torso toned, chest firm. The silver chain hung around his neck, patches of skin flush, revealing his evident arousal. 

He tilted his head and smirked. “Like what you see?”

You rolled your eyes. “Cocky much?” But yes, yes you did. 

He snorted, laughing pretty loudly as he knelt back on the mattress. “I’m just messing around.” 

You couldn’t help but touch him, your hands travelling up his body and across his chest as he crawled over you. He grunted as your lips met and you kissed one another hungrily, more eager now than ever. His hands grazed the cups of your bra and no more than a few moments later he was on one breast, licking and sucking at your nipple, quickly soaking the lace. You moaned loudly, the sensation sending you partially shaky until you had to hold the back of his head, rooting yourself in fear of falling backwards. 

His left hand travelled around your back, fingers fumbling with the strap of your bra. “Can I?” He asked, and you strained out a yes. 

He broke away from your nipple as he used his other hand to help hook you free. The straps fell lose against your arms and he tugged at the middle of your bra to remove it entirely. His eyes ate you up before cupping the soft flesh in his palms, jaw slack as he flicked his eyes up to yours. 

“You have the prettiest tits.” 

Slightly abashed by his words but turned on by the way his thumbs rubbed circles against your sensitive nipples, you found yourself chuckling. “That’s good to know.” 

“No, really,” he half-awed, reaching to kiss you again. “You’re just... perfect.” 

He sounded so sincere it shocked you, made you unsure what to respond. Not that you could anyway, his tongue down your throat again, his body pressed against yours as your urge for him continued to grow. 

You were thankful when you felt his hands tug at the waistband of your jeans. “I need to get you fucking naked,” he muttered against your shoulder. You were unable to keep track of his mouth, he was kissing every inch of bare skin he found. 

You lifted your ass off the bed, helping him shimmy the fabric down and over your ass before they became jammed at your thighs. Okay, maybe skinny jeans had been a bad idea... He got them down to your knees with quite a struggle, leaning back to yank them off the rest of the way. He nearly fell backwards with the force, irritated eyes finding yours. “I swear to God, you don’t want me to fuck you.”

You tried your best not to laugh, he was putting way too much effort into a simple(ish) task, if he carried on like this you’d have no other option than to think he was incapable at stripping women. Instead, now that you were finally free of your jeans, you spread your thighs, revealing your barely there panties. 

“Really?” You cocked an eyebrow. You were now more aroused than ever, the delicate fabric stuck damp to your sex, and Seokjin’s eyes immediately wondered to the sight you’d put on display, his eyes glazing over slightly, darkening with lust. 

He stood from the bed suddenly, unzipping his own jeans to remove them too, throwing them to the side with haste. You could easily see the curve of his impressive erection in those tight black boxer shorts and as he crawled back to you, you couldn’t help but cup him, tracing your fingers across the thick length before rubbing him, feeling him push into your touch and groan as his lips pressed into yours. 

You pulsed when you felt his hand cup your mound, knowing he could feel the heat that radiated from it instantly. He pinched at the sticky fabric, pulling it back and snapping it against you. Annoyingly, he didn’t seem to take much interest in the underwear as you’d hoped, more concerned about what was underneath, so near enough immediately, he had them gone – successfully this time. His gaze travelled to your nakedness, soaking in the view before he traced the outline of your folds with his fingertips. “You’re literally fucking naked in front of me,” he awed, never once taking his eyes off you. 

He had to feel you pulsing beneath him, eager for something more, but he didn’t give you it. “I didn’t think being this wet was possible,” he whispered smugly, eyes flicking over to your face. 

You grumbled, although probably more frustrated he was teasing you than by his words. “Stop trying to inflate your ego.” 

He chuckled, shifting closer, and then suddenly there was a finger inside you. You sucked in a breath, no time to get accustomed to the sensation as he began fingering you, curling and pressing the long digit against your velvety walls. “Fuck. Seokjin!” 

He grinned wolfishly down at you, strands of hair falling into his eyes, but you could still see them twinkling with mirth. “Found another way to shut you up.” 

You would’ve scowled if your mouth wasn’t too busy moaning. He was not going to weaponise fingering too... 

His actions sped up as he slipped a second digit into you, straightening them as he fucked you with them, sending you splayed out on the mattress as he knelt between your legs. You should’ve maybe felt self-conscious by now, but the pleasure coursing through your body was too distracting. Plus, the way Seokjin watched you, eyes hungrily staring at your breasts jiggling with each snap of his wrist, had you basking in the attention. 

You were shocked to find out how close to coming you had been when he abruptly pulled out of you, your body on a come down as shaky breaths wracked throughout you. His mouth was on yours immediately, kissing you messily, shallow breathing. His voice shook as he spoke. “Fuck. I can’t think straight.” 

He kneeled up, looking between your legs again as he vigorously rubbed at his dick. “Let me eat you out again.” 

He went to dive in, but you stopped him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you sat up. “Wait, you’ve already done that.” As much as you’d loved it and wouldn’t mind a repeat, what was the point in waiting? He was obviously as desperate for you as you were for him. There was no point dragging it out, anymore would just be considered teasing. 

You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, running your hand down his chest. He was a little sweaty and you loved it. “Just fuck me. I want to feel you already.” 

He looked down at your hand, fingers now toying with the waistband of his underwear and swallowed. “Yeah... Yeah, good idea.” 

Standing on the floor, he looked around for his jeans, spotting them near the left side of your bed. You shuffled closer, reaching out to grab his elbow and stop him in his tracks. “Take those off first, I want to get a good look at your ass,” you prompted, gesturing to his underwear. 

He looked a little surprised by your request, but listened, giving you somewhat of a bemused smirk as he stripped himself of his boxers. He turned slightly, protecting the fullness of his butt as he reached down for his jeans, but you were more than satisfied with the curve of the flesh you saw. Seokjin always did have a nice looking ass in his work pants – not that you’d been staring, of course... 

“I feel like a piece of meat,” he told you, eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, foil packet between his fingers. 

“A tasty piece of meat,” you corrected, feeling excited when he sat down on the side of the bed and dropped the condom beside your bodies. You were literally a couple of minutes away from having him inside you, and you quite honestly couldn’t contain yourself.

Crawling into his lap, you hooking your arms around his neck, feeling his wrap around your waist, his cock bouncing slightly against your inner thigh. Pulling you closer he pressed his mouth into yours, his grip firm, kiss passionate.  A hand travelled down to your ass, another cupping one breast and he moaned loudly as he pulled away from your lips. “God. I love your body so much.” 

You smirked, very much appreciating the praise and as if your body couldn’t help it, you pressed your hips into him, rubbing against his thigh partially. 

“You really like to grind,” he commented, looking down between your bodies and that’s when you couldn’t take it any longer, reaching down to wrap your hand around his dick. His hips jumped at the sensation, and you couldn’t help but run your fist up and down the length, feeling the hot, ridged flesh pulse against your grasp.

Condom back between his fingers, you watched him start to tear it open, rushed slightly, his hips absentmindedly jutting up into your hand. Randomly, your eyes caught the writing on the gold square and instantly your mouth became dry. 

“What?” Seokjin asked, pausing his movements as he noticed something was wrong. Did your face give it away? 

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, tearing your gaze away from the bolded King Size to look down at your hand. Seokjin’s dick almost taunted you. You hadn’t really paid attention to it properly since he’d gotten naked, forgetting the shock you’d felt earlier on in the day when faced with the massive task. Your mouth had accustomed well, but your vagina?! You were getting reservations... 

“You really do have a fucking massive dick.” 

Seokjin chuckled, angling his head low to kiss your mouth. He knew you’d noticed the text on the condom packet now. “You’ll make him go shy with all these compliments.” 

He lifted you in one smooth motion and you found yourself spread on your back, head on the pillow as he hovered over you, sliding the condom on. He held his cock in his hand as he dropped to his knees, tugging it a couple of time just to make sure all was secure and then he leaned in to place a kiss on your shoulder. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmured, rubbing the head if his cock against your sex. You could hear the noise of the latex and you clenched unconsciously, now nervous. “Hm?” He prompted, waiting for a likeminded reply. When you didn’t give him one he lifted his head to look at you, looking a little concerned. “What is it?”

You wrapped your arms around his middle, feeling comforted by the heat of his body and the softness of his skin. It was funny, you didn’t feel embarrassed to confide in him right now, to ask for reassurance. There had been a time, even as far as quite recently, when you had not for even one second wanted to look scared, worried or dumb in front of him. Now that seemed kind of silly... 

“You will fit, right?” 

“Of course I’ll fit,” he laughed, looking instantly relieved. Had he been expecting something bad? 

“You better. I don’t want you breaking my vagina in two.” You warned, chest feeling a little lighter, enough to joke around with him. 

“You’re acting like it’s dangling above my knee or some shit.” He repositioned himself, easing his dick away from your heat as he rolled his eyes playfully. The action touched you. Even though he was teasing you, he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable... 

Ever so gently, he rubbed the inside of your thigh, his way of reassuring you while also helping you relax. Were you that tense under him? You keened into his touched, loving the way he made you feel. 

“You been fucking men with tiny cocks this whole time?” He joked, making you scoff out a small laugh. 

“No, just not that... big.” 

You expected him to make another joke, something about stroking his ego, but instead he leaned in to kiss you, his hand rubbing circles on your hip now. “I’ll go slow. Don’t be worried,” he reassured. You bucked into him instinctively when you felt his fingers at your entrance. He slid two fingers inside, moving slowly. “I stretched you out pretty good anyway.” He pressed upwards, causing you to moan. “You’ll take it.” 

His words made you tingle all over, something kind of vulgar about them that made you not so anxious now. Pulling out, he ran his fist over his length again and you felt a little sorry for him. You didn’t want to keep him waiting anymore. You didn’t want to wait anymore. 

Seokjin caught you watching him and smiled, leaning closer. “Yeah?” He asked your permission. 

You nodded, crossing your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “Yeah.” He repositioned himself, sitting taller on his knees as he pushed the tip of his cock up against your entrance. You wanted him closer, reaching for him as you murmured, “Kiss me.” 

He listened immediately, moving over your body to meet your lips. He started to push inside, carefully, an inch or so at a time. “Fuck,” he mumbled, as your warmth continued to surround him. “You feel amazing.” 

You moaned out in agreement, the stretch nothing but pleasurable as he sunk a little further. You went to look between your bodies, curious. 

“No, don’t look down.” He stopped you, kissing your mouth over and over again, distracting you successfully. “Not yet. Wait until I’m fully inside.” 

You didn’t know why he was so adamant. Maybe he didn’t want you to potentially freak out and see him pushing that massive ass dick into you, or maybe he just really wanted your first sight to be you stuffed full of him... You moaned at the thought, feeling him push even deeper. God, you loved this feeling. 

“Seokjin–!” 

His mouth was against your neck now, kissing you softly. “Just a little bit more.” His voice was tight, strained under the increasing pleasure he was feeling, mixed with the urge to delve straight inside. 

You planted your feet to the bed, widening your legs just a tad to silently let him know you were more than ready. With one more nudge he slipped all the way in. You knew because you felt his hips press into yours, that and the moan he gave out. “Ngh. Yeah. Shit.” 

You looked down, Seokjin’s lips frozen against your shoulder. “Oh, my god,” you whispered, taking in the sight of where your bodies met. You felt incredibly full, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was pleasant. Incredibly pleasant. 

“Can’t believe I’m inside you,” he awed next to your ear, and it took you a moment to realise he was staring too. 

You cupped his face, sliding your hands around the back of his head to weave your fingers in his hair, grip firm. “Move,” you informed him, needing him to start fucking you immediately before you cried. 

He got to work, your hands now travelling the expanse of his back as he rocked his hips into you at a painfully steady pace, the chain on his neck swinging back and forth. His hands were either side of your head on the pillow, his breathing heavy as he cast his gaze down to your eyes. “You literally have the warmest cunt I’ve ever felt.” 

Your face heated up immediately, not expecting such an admission and instinctively you dipped your chin. You might’ve really liked it but it was still embarrassing, nonetheless. You heard him chuckle, a hand reaching to cup your cheek, making you look at him again. “What? Not used to guys talking dirty to you?”

“It’s not that.” You shook your head.  “I usually don’t like it.” It was true. Nobody had been able to pull it off well in the past, usually feeling cringey and unnatural. But with Seokjin... It made you feel some type of way. 

He smirked, although it looked a little strained due to the way he was still thrusting inside you. “That’s because they never did it properly. It’s an art form.”

He was lucky his bragging held up... 

You ran your hands down the small of his back, cupping his ass gently as you pushed down with each thrust of his hips. You couldn’t help but moan each time he bottomed out, wriggling under him. 

“It feels good, right? Nothing hurts?” He asked, nuzzling his face into the side of yours. You shook your head. “Good.” 

With your assurance, he thrust into you hard, causing you to shoot up the bed. You dug your nails into his ass with the shock. “Seokjin—!” 

He repeated, slowly pulling out until just the tip of his cock was inside and then slamming back in. “Told you I’ll fit.” He murmured, sliding out again, looking down your body as it shook. “This pussy couldn’t wait for me to fuck it.” 

You cried out as he hit deep, even more pleasurable because of his shameless mouth. “Again!” You begged, hands raking up his back now as you attempted to roll your hips into his, but it was no use, he had you pinned down, held prisoner by his dick. 

“Patience, baby,” he purred against your ear. “It’s not a race.” 

Your breath shook. There it was, that word again. When he was inside you like this, it didn’t sound half as bad. 

Despite his comment, he gradually started to speed up, straightening his back to fuck you harder, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you planted, although you couldn’t help but grind your hips into him, chasing more and more. When his fingers brushed over your clit, you fluttered your eyes closed, brows furrowed. 

“Don’t stop,” you breathed, soft moans leaving your mouth involuntary, enjoying the sensation of him circling your clit. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum?” He asked – more like goaded. Your skin prickled, his tone setting you alight. “Gonna cum all over my dick?” 

You let out a strangled cry, squeezing around him, your thighs spreading further, desperate to feel him deeper. Grunting, he leaned over your body, snapping his hips harder, his motions against your clit firmer, the pads of all four fingers rubbing tight circles. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He groaned. “Tell me how much you love it. Don’t be shy.” 

Once again you felt your cheeks heat up, reluctant despite how good he was making you feel. 

“Y/N.” He commanded gently, and you slowly found his gaze, jaw slack. “Let me know how you’re feeling. How much you love me fucking you.” 

You wanted to. You really wanted to. It was only fair given how much he was praising you too. There was nothing wrong with him wanting you to stroke his ego right now, despite how unaccustomed you were to dirty talking. 

“I love it so much,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop. You’re going to make me cum.” 

Not that you could label that as dirty talk... You sounded a little awkward, cringing at yourself, but Seokjin seemed to like it, dropping lower to kiss you, grunting into your mouth. You felt encouraged enough to continue. You weaved your fingers in his hair, loving the sound of his panting. “Seokjin, please make me cum. You feel so fucking amazing. I love your dick, don’t stop fucking me.” 

His hips stuttered as he processed your words and then he growled, kickstarting them again – much harder. “That’s a dangerous thing to ask, Y/N,” he warned, breaking away from your mouth to stare down at you, expression dark. Each thrust sent your headboard into the wall. 

“You want me to keep fucking you even after you cum?” 

“Oh, god,” you moaned as he slammed into you, his fingers against your clit unrelenting. “Ye-ss! You can fuck me all night if you like.” 

“Don’t,” he whined, his face dropping into the crook of your neck before he growled again, flinging himself up. 

Still on his knees between your thighs, he lifted one of your legs up, hooking it casually over his shoulder, fingers on his left hand digging into the meat of your thigh. You spread your other leg, resting it on top of his knee, his right hand holding you flat until he found your clit again, two fingertips stroking it steadily. 

Your thighs started to shake, the rest of your body tense as your middle jerked up against his touch. He kept fucking you, stopping each time he was fully inside of you to grind against your insides. 

“Seokjin, I want to—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, pleasure too strong. You were so tense your release seemed like it would never come.

“Just let go. Cum.” He told you, his voice tight, neck strained. “Just think of how good I’m making you feel. You’re so wet, I’m sliding everywhere.” 

You could hear yourself, squelching with each snap of his hips and circle of his fingers. Suddenly he slapped down with his hand, not especially hard, but it made your body jerk, a cry of surprise leaving you. “Seokjin, fuck.” 

He instantly went back to playing with your clit,   you pulsed red hot. “You like that, baby?” He purred, voice low, rolling his dick inside you at a deadly rhythm. “You’re such a fucking tease.” He smirked. “Knew you’d be dirty, or do I just bring out that side of you?” 

All you could do was moan, the shock of his palm against your core still zapping up your body, your hips moving with his, urging him to keep going because you were so close, teetering over the edge. Pushing his body weight into you, still gripping your leg against his chest, you sunk further into the mattress. 

“Just concentrate on how my cock feels.” He helped you along, words flying out of his mouth as you squeezed around his cock tightly. “How my fingers feel. I really want to make you cum.” He groaned loudly, determination in his tone. “Soak me.” 

“Fuck.” This was it, you could feel the build-up of your orgasm cresting. “Seokjin, I’m—!” You broke off with a moan as pleasure engulfed you. “Coming. I’m coming.” 

Your body stiffened, foot trembling above his shoulder, but Seokjin kept fucking you through the waves that wracked through you, his fingers against your clit easing up slightly, careful not to overstimulate you. Your head was spinning as you started to feel your orgasm gradually wane, warmth flowing through your veins as your limbs started to relax again. You gasped for breath, amazed by what had just happened. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d come like that... if ever. 

Seokjin’s hips slowed down, carefully dropping your leg to the bed as he eased up and crawled over you, mouth finding yours, your tongues meshing together sloppily. You wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist and tugged him closer. He was still inside you, not moving, but that soon changed as you started to roll your hips into his. You still wanted him, orgasm only making you hornier, however possible that was. 

“I-I can carry on?” He asked thickly, shallowly fucking inside of you now, pace uneven. 

“Please,” you murmured against his ear. “I said don’t stop.” 

He groaned, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before knocking into you harder, slow but calculated. He felt bigger inside of you, the result of your walls tightening, but you loved it, your fingers playing with the chain at the nape of his neck. The metal was cool, a big difference to his skin which was hot and slick with his sweat. 

“Not too hard?” He asked, grunting with each thrust. 

You pulled him to you closer, ignoring the way his pelvis rubbed against your core, still a little sensitive. “Fuck me however hard and fast you like.” Running your hands along his muscular back you felt him shiver, a tight whine escaping his lips as your words got to him. You felt pretty chuffed. 

“You feel so fucking amazing, Seokjin. You’re so good at this.” You praised, words falling from you naturally and unprompted. 

His brain didn’t seem to be functioning anymore, unable to respond to you, the feeling of his impending orgasm too distracting, but he moaned at your words, face falling to your shoulder as he just. Kept. Fucking. You. His thrusts were hard, but not as calculated as before. You could tell by the way he was breathing he was close, his grunts muffled but still audible. 

“Gonna–gonna c–”

You could hear that too, feel the way his body stiffened instantly, and he rammed deep inside you, waiting for the first spill of cum. You gripped him tight, loving the way his body shook as he came, and you welcomed each tremor as his cum filled the condom. 

“Oh, my fuck,” he gasped, the last surge the strongest, and you suppressed the giggle that wanted to escape your throat. He was pretty speechless, you guessed. “Shit. Fuck. Shit.” 

He laid on top of you for a few moments, catching his breath while muttering expletives into your skin. You liked being weighted down by his body, you couldn’t describe it, it just felt good. 

“Seokjin?” You questioned, turning your head as much you could to rouse him. His back was all clammy, the hairs against the back of his neck damp with sweat. 

He slowly lifted himself up, hands pressing into mattress. “I think my brain just blew to pieces.” Blowing air out of his mouth, he noticed his lips were wet. He brought a hand up to feel. “I fucking dribbled.” He chuckled, wiping himself clean. 

“Hot,” you teased, watching him roll off you and remove the soiled condom, tying a knot at the top. He sat up, looking around for your trashcan before spotting one near your closet. It gave you a great view of his ass when he walked over to throw it away. 

You rolled onto your side as he came back, joining you on the bed, stretching his arm behind his head as he looked over at you, a smugness to his face. “I don’t want to take all the credit but I’m pretty sure that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” 

You shrugged casually, trying your best not to smile. “Yeah, I’d rate it like an 8/10.” 

“Hey,” he exclaimed incredulously. 

“I’m messing around.” You laughed, your hand reaching to play with his necklace, your eyes skimming down his torso. “It was amazing.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, stealing a small kiss. 

You nodded. “I kinda want to go again...” 

He raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t want me to leave?” 

Laughing, you hit his chest playfully. “Did you imagine I’d kick you out straight away or something?” 

“No,” he insisted, looking a little embarrassed. “I just... I don’t know.” He looked really happy that wasn’t the case though. As if you’d kick him out after that performance. You were making the most out of tonight… 

You laid your head down on the pillow, still looking at him, weirdly uncaring that you were still naked. “You have more condoms on you, right?”

“I came prepared – just in case.” He felt the urge to add, not seeming to care his junk was still out at all. “Do you want to go again right now?”

You chuckled. “Give it a little while. You wore me out.” Although, you’d be highly impressed if he was able to go for round two immediately. 

“Sure,” he agreed, folding his other hand behind his head too, Adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “I could do with a nap.” 

A nap definitely sounded good right about now. You tapped his chest, sitting up. “Let me pee first.” 

Standing, you grabbed the gown draped over your wicker chair and slipped in on. Not before Seokjin snuck a glance though, groaning to himself and burying his face into the bed as if he couldn’t go on any longer. 

“Ugh, your body.” 

.

.

You woke up to a phone ringing. It sounded like it was coming from the floor because you could hear vibrations against the wood. Seokjin groaned and then slipped from under you, letting your head down gently to rest on the pillow. 

Once you’d come back from the bathroom you’d immediately jumped under the covers, feeling it cold now and encouraged Seokjin to follow. You’d cuddled for a little bit, your head on his chest and before long you’d fallen asleep. It couldn’t have been that long ago, and one look at your alarm clock as Seokjin searched for his phone in his jeans, told you it was half past midnight. 

“Who was it?” You asked sleepily, hearing it ring off just as he grabbed it. 

“Jungkook.” 

“Why is he calling so late?” 

Seokjin put the phone down on your dresser and got back into bed, wrapping his arms around you. He was still naked, the thought got you a little excited. 

“Probably gonna ask if I want to play a game of League.” Video games at this time? What was he, still in high school? You halted your judgement though, settling back against his chest. 

“I’ll just pretend I was asleep,” he shrugged. 

“You were asleep.” 

There was a pause, and then you felt his hand travel to ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You still had your gown on, but it was thin, and you could feel the heat of his palm easily. “I’m awake now,” he murmured. “Are you?”

“I guess so,” you teased, nudging your pelvis into his thigh ever so gently, silently giving him the go ahead. 

“I’ll tell Jungkook I was a little preoccupied then...” 

You lifted your head, looking unimpressed. “Don’t you dare.” 

Laughing loudly, he leaned in to kiss you. “As if he’d believe me.” You weren’t particularly listening though, too busy getting addicted to his mouth again. 

You soon found yourself on top of him, his dick hard against your stomach as you made out furiously , his fingers brushing against the lips of your entrance, teasing you. 

He pulled his head back, a boyish grin on his face. “Can you ride me this time?”

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021 

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

[hanniiesuckle17]

Anything But Normal

A/n: this was such cute Idea I hope I did it justice. It’s been a while since I’ve written a comedy piece. There are probably spelling errors I’ll go back and fix them later. also I love Jon Favreau as Happy so I had to put him in. (i swear he is one of my favorite actors) btw this is not edited (i’ll come back and do that eventually)

Requested by: @tokiokiedokie​

Warnings: Cussing,(come on it's me guys), partial nudity.

Member: Han Jisung

Summary: When Y/n’s best friend goes through a drastic change he starts keeping secrets. Secrets that include him being New York’s one and only friendly neighborhood spiderman. Shit hits the fan when his new secret life is exposed and she gets dragged into it.

Genre: Spiderman!au, romance, comedy, friends to lovers!au, little bit of angst

There are only three things that truly matter in life. Good friends, good pizza, and a good story. So far I had two of those at the moment. Sadly I was lacking a good story. Our school newspaper had been quite dry despite my efforts to discover new and intriguing stories. 

“Stop sulking and eat.” My best friend said, shoving a piece of cheese pizza in my face. Jisung laughed when I bit the end before returning to look at my laptop. We were at our usual pizza place seated next to the window with the big bright red neon sign lighting up our faces. The sun set over the New York skyline making the moment almost perfect. If only I was writing an exciting article. Instead, I was putting together a riveting look into the school’s menu changes. 

“You know I invited you because I thought you were going to be good company.”

“Please. You invited me because Felix was busy with a stupid Lego project and no one else will eat pizza with you.”

“Whatever.”

Jisung and I weren’t the most popular people in our senior class. To be frank, Jisung was my only friend. So going out and eating pizza every other day at ten o’clock at night was often the highlight of my week. Having had enough of the lack of attention Jisung slammed my laptop closed and removed it from the already small table. “Hey! I didn’t save!” 

“That’s what Google Docs is for.”

He was right. I needed to stop working. I had been slaving over that stupid and boring article all week. He didn’t have to be such an ass though. “You are such a teenager.” I scoffed, watching him shovel yet another slice of pizza down his throat. “Oh, and you are such an adult!” The mocking tone of his voice threatened a laugh. 

“I swear you are God’s punishment for enjoying sex. Everyone’s libido just disappears when you are around.”

“Hey don’t ruin our date. I was considering sleeping with you tonight.”

He laughed when I threatened to smack him. It had been like this for as long as I could remember. Just me and Jisung. My parents had been friends with his before they passed away in a car accident. Now Jisung lived with his Aunt May and his Uncle Ben a few blocks away from me. 

I remember after the crash I would wake to a tap on my window to see an eight year old Jisung on my fire escape. Not wanting to bother his Aunt with his nightmares, Jisung had run all the way to my apartment and climbed the fire escape to my room on the sixth floor. I would open the window and let him sleep in my bed. My eight year old brain used to think maybe my bed was like force field keeping away the bad dreams about his parents.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?” Jisung asked bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“Mr. Finoli asked me to take pictures of the science field trip so I’m going with you guys. Why?” A look of realization crossed Jisung’s face making him freeze. “Did you forget to ask May to sign your permission slip?”

“I forgot to ask May to sign my-...you can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?”

Laughing I pulled a ten out of my wallet and left it on the table. “Come on, you’ve gotta get your slip signed, dummy.” “I can pay, it’s no problem.” He said watching me pack up my stuff. “Nah, you can get the next one.” Bellies full of pizza, we left Tony’s Pizzeria and headed in the direction of Jisung’s apartment, his arm draped over my shoulder and talking my ear off about some random experiment they had done in Physics that day. 

The next day I woke up bright and early to meet the class at the New York Museum of Science. Camera bag on my shoulder and camera around my neck I stood outside the museum with about ten other students and two teachers. My tired eyes brightened when I saw Jisung step out from the subway, May right behind him.

I laughed as he wiped a kiss from his cheek before waving goodbye to her. His dyed blonde hair was messy and blew slightly in the wind. Jisung waved when he saw me and jogged over. His hoodie lazily hung off his shoulder and his shirt and jeans were somewhat wrinkled. “Don’t you look nice?” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his appearance. 

“Shut up.”

He laughed throwing an arm around my shoulder, leading me closer to the group. Soon the tour began and I busied myself with taking photos of the group for the paper and yearbook. Jisung followed the group, only half-listening to the teacher as he looked at other random exhibits. 

At around one in the afternoon, the group moved outside to have lunch on the steps. I sat off to the side with Jisung, his legs spread out across the stairs and his elbow rested on the step above us. It was refreshing to be next to him talking about absolutely nothing. Even if he stole my food. 

Eventually, we were all called back to resume the tour. I angled a shot of two students looking at a bug exhibit, but just as I took the picture Jisung jumped in the frame throwing up a peace sign and crossing his eyes. “Hey! Stop hitting me!” He yelled as I smacked his shoulder over and over again. “Look I’m just innocently observing the exhibit. Leave me alone crazy woman!”

Sighing, I pushed him away and resumed taking photos. As the group was moving onto the next room I noticed Jisung was missing. It wasn’t unlike him to wander off into a room he wasn’t supposed to just to look at probably like some DNA model or some other weird science shit. I could never get over the fact Jisung was super into science when he gave zero fucks about his other classes. 

“Jisung?”

“Ji?”

“Ji, we are moving on,” I said looking for him. My eyes landed on a semi-open door marked ‘Lab’. He wouldn’t. He did. Just as I started to walk towards the door, he exited with a goofy smile on his face. “Y/n! Dude, they have all these cool spiders and test tubes in there it was so cool! One of them bit me!” Like an excited three-year-old, he showed me his wrist where he indeed had a red spider bite. 

“Ooooooh! Take a picture!” 

He shoved my camera into my hands and held up his arm pointing to the spider bite making the dopiest smile. Knowing he wouldn’t shut up until I complied, I took the picture. 

“Let’s catch up with the group,” I said taking his hand and dragging him back to the class. When we reached the group a teacher looked over at us his brows furrowing. “Excuse me, Miss L/n, is your friend okay?” He pointed to Jisung, a concerned expression on his face.

“Jisung? There are certainly things wrong with him but he’s oka-”

My words stopped when I turned to look at my best friend next to me. “Ji- Oh my god! Ji are you okay?” His face had obviously paled and he looked dizzy. A thin layer of sweat lay on his forehead. 

“Hell yeah. I’m doing fine, baby.” His voice sounded drowsy.

“Miss L/n he is not alright. Does he have anyone who can come get him.” The teacher said pulling out his phone. I shook my head. May worked in the day and his Uncle Ben was on a business trip. “No, they are working.” 

He sighed and turned to me. Jisung was clearly getting worse by the second and was wobbling a little. “What about you? Can you take him home?” Jisung laughed and wrapped his arms around me loosely. “Fuck yeah, I’d her take me home.” 

“I have a test in my last period.”

“I’ll write you a pass and send it to your teacher. Take him home please.”

Nodding he typed something on his phone and returned to the group who had started to move once again. “Okay Ji, let’s get you back to May’s.” Slowly we started moving to the exit. Before we made it to the doors, Jisung practically turned green. He pushed away from me and burst towards the nearest restroom. 

“Jisung!” 

Ignoring the looks and yells I followed Jisung into the restroom and looked for the stall he was in. “Hey, lady get out of here!” A man standing at the urinal screamed. 

“Oh please. Get over yourself.”

“Ji?”

Following the coughing and gagging sounds, I pushed the final stall door open. Jisung sat on the floor his mop of blonde hair hanging over the toilet. I crouched next to him and rubbed his back gently. “Oh god, I hate puking.”

“Jisung everyone hates puking.”

“Yeah well.....your face likes puking.”

“Nice comeback.”

Feeling too terrible to respond, he just threw up the contents of his stomach again. When he seemed able to stand the two of us made our way outside and down the subway. Jisung leaned most of his weight on me as I slid my metro pass through the scanner. How I managed to get him through the turnstile and onto the metro I have no clue. Thankfully there was once last seat free for Jisung to sit down in. 

“Y/n, I don’t feel good.” 

“I know,” I said softly as he rested his head against my stomach. The train turned sharply making me hold onto the strap, not wanting to fall into Jisung. Soft whines and groans came from him every now and then. This was the worst I had ever seen Jisung. 

I listened to the stations being called out as I ran my fingers through his hair, hoping that would calm him down a little. We were only four stops away but more people were getting on the train. Jisung looked up at me a sick expression on his face. It changed when he looked at the passengers boarding the car. 

“Here, Ma’am. You can take my seat.”

“Thank you so much, young man.” An older woman said taking his seat as he got up. “Jisung, you feel terrible. Are you okay to stand?” He shrugged latching onto the strap next to mine, his face paling again. “I’ll be fine, it’s only four stops.”

Jisung’s eyes started to droop as the train started up again. His body began to act heavier than it was so he resorted to leaning on me and nestling his head between my neck and shoulder. I did my best to make sure he didn’t fall over.

“You two are very cute together.” The old lady said with a smile.

“Oh- we aren’t--” 

“You better hold onto a good man like that, sweetie. Handsome and kind. Those are hard to come by.”

Before I could respond we turned again, and I had to keep Jisung from falling in this poor nice old lady’s lap. I felt his skin burning against mine. Could this train not go any faster. Soon enough our stop came. I said bye to the old woman and helped Jisung get off the train and up the subway stairs. 

“Come on, Ji. We are almost there and we both know I cannot carry your ass.” 

Eventually, I made it up the stairs of his apartment building to the fourth floor and managed to drag him to his door. “Jisung, where’s your key?” Trying not to hurt his head I propped him up on the door frame. He laughed when I started searching through his pockets.  

“Y/n if you wanted to cop a feel just ask. That tickles.” 

“Jisung where are your fucking keys?” 

“Back pocket.” He said drowsily. I sighed and reached behind him. My hands searched through his jean pockets for the cold metal keys. “Having fun back there, because I’m sure enjoying it.” 

I suppressed the urge to punch him in the stomach out of fear he would vomit all over me. Finally finding his keys, I unlocked the door and threw my stuff inside, before lugging him in as well. Jisung leaned on the couch while I put my stuff on the table.

“Y/n it’s burning up in here.” 

“Jisung, you just have a temperature.”

“It burns like fucking hell! It’s too hot!”

Before I could stop him Jisung was shedding layers like a snake. He tossed his shirt somewhere in the small living room. He was sweating like crazy, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Ji, come on let’s get you in the shower.” I started running a cold shower for him before rushing back to the living room to call May. It would only be a couple hours until she got home, but I should still let her know what’s going on.

While Jisung was in the shower, I grabbed some medicine from the cabinet. I had absolutely no fucking idea how to treat a spider bite. Antibiotics? Hearing the shower turn off I knocked before entering. Jisung had a towel wrapped around his waist and was leaning his head against the wall. “Y/n...”

“I’m right here, Jisung.” Cautiously I led him to his room and watched him collapse onto his double bed. Rummaging through his drawers I found some mostly clean sweatpants. “Ji, do you even do laundry?” 

“Y/n, I feel a little too fucking sick to do chores now.”

“I know. I know.” He slipped on the sweatpants and let me dry his hair. I wrapped his arms, covering the bite so it wouldn’t get more infected then it already probably was. Jisung’s temperature flipped like crazy. One minute he was burning up and the next he was freezing. 

A sigh of relief left my chest when I heard May call out in the apartment. “Y/n thank you so much for taking care of him.” She gave me a short hug before running to go get more meds. She would know better than I would, being an ER nurse. “Ji, do you want me to stay? I can call my parents and tell them I’m staying the night.” He slowly shook his head.

“No, it’s okay.” 

“I can stay really-”

“Y/n, I’ll be fine. You can go home.” 

He gave me a half-assed smile and squeezed my hand. There was no arguing with Jisung sick or not so I gathered my things and left. May promised to keep me updated and I told her I would have my phone next to me.

The walk back to my apartment seemed longer than usual. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jisung. When I got home, my parents greeted me before telling me they would be working tonight. My dad was a cop and my mom worked at a hospital downtown. It was rare they were even home, to begin with. Exhausted from taking care of Jisung, I rolled onto my bed and fell asleep.

This boy really texted me at five the morning telling me to meet him at his locker three hours later. If he wasn’t still sick I would for sure have throttled him. Except for the fact that Jisung didn’t look sick. Not at all. He looked perfectly healthy as he walked down the hall towards me. In fact, he looked...really....good. It pissed me off. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?”

“Yeah, I got better.”

Jisung opened his locker like it was any other day and got his books. “What did you want to talk about?” He sighed and looked over at me. There was something different about him. Did his jaw always look like that? No. No jaw looks like that. 

“So this morning I woke up and like I felt completely fine. In fact, I felt the best I have in years. And this weird thing happened to me on the subway-”

Jisung’s words were interrupted by the sound of his locker closing, only the entire row of metal lockers rattled as his shut. “The fuck? Did we have an earthquake or something?” I asked looking around. “What? No. New York isn’t on a fault line.” Shrugging it off I turned back to Jisung.

“You were saying?” He seemed distracted now, looking at his closed locker. “Ummm.... I wanted to thank you for yesterday.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. “Ji, you don’t need to thank me. I’ll always take care of you if you need me.” As I pulled away his hands stayed on my waist, which wasn’t totally out of the norm. Jisung was always a really touchy and flirty person. It drove me crazy sometimes, knowing that it was just his personality and not him acting on something else. 

“So this weird thing happened on my way to school this morning. My hand-” Again Jisung was interrupted. This time by the bell ringing for homeroom. “Hey Jisung, I’ve gotta go, but you can tell me at lunch right?” He nodded, his expression becoming more uneasy. As I turned his grip on my waist stopped me.

“Ji, I know you wanna tell me now but I have to go!” I said with a laugh. A nervous breathy laugh escaped his lips as he tried to pull away from me. “Well, you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you.” Arching an eyebrow I chose to ignore his weird behavior and walked off to my homeroom. 

When the lunch bell finally rang I took my food outside to where Ji and I normally ate. However, he was nowhere in sight. As if he could read my thoughts, my phone notified me of a text from Jisung.

Lix asked me to help him with some Chem work. Sry I can’t eat with you :(

I sent him a quick reply saying it was okay. It wasn’t the first time I had eaten alone and it surely wouldn’t be the last. To no surprise, Chaeyoung and one of her friends walked by. “Have you seen that kid? What’s his name? Jihyun?” She said in her shrill voice. It was hard not to hear her conversation even from twenty feet away.

“No, I think his name is Jisung. Han Jisung. He is in my physics class. Kind of a dweeb if you ask me.” 

“Well, that dweeb filled out. He was probably just a late bloomer, but like all of a sudden, he got really hot. Have you seen his arms and his chest? Oh my god! A girl could die.” 

The girls laughed and continued to objectify my best friend. They were right. Jisung had seemed to have had a huge glow up overnight. His lanky form did seem more toned and his arms were much more muscular than I remembered. 

“Can you believe he still hangs out with that new junkie girl? Like, please. He could get any girl he wants now. Why stay friends with that waste of space?” 

“That bitch is so full of herself. Literally, no one even likes her.” Chaeyoung said laughing. Having heard enough, I got up and decided to go to my next class early. It didn’t necessarily bother me what she had said. Chaeyoung always liked to mess with me.

All my classes seemed slower than usual and Jisung was answering my texts. At this point in the day, we would probably be having a meme war or a stupid conversation ignoring our teachers, but my phone was silent. Not a single notification. 

By the end of the day, I was feeling totally depressed. English was my last class and thank god I had it with Jisung. No doubt he would be late though. He rarely ever showed up on time to class. But, as I walked through the classroom door I did a double-take seeing my best friend in his usual seat right beside mine. 

He gave me an innocent smile. This was strange. Jisung was never early. He looked...normal. I mean other than the physical overnight puberty storm. He slouched in his chair his long legs spilling into the aisle, not that he cared, and he twirled a pen between his long slender fingers. 

“Yo, wassup, cutie?” He said as I sat down. “You seem to be the talk of the school.” He shrugged and shuffled through some physics work he had on his desk. “You jealous?” That stupid smirk appeared on his mouth. “No. Just confused.”

“Okay, class. Settle down. We are going to be returning to our analysis of Austen’s novel Sense and Sensibility.” 

I busied myself with taking thorough notes knowing Jisung would just fall asleep again or just play a random game on his phone. The teacher droned on making a seemingly not boring book a complete snooze fest. The lecture continued without end threatening to send me to sleep as well. Out of habit, I looked over at Jisung, except he was not asleep. Jisung was wide awake and he appeared to be listening intently. 

As if he sensed I was looking at him he turned and smiled at me before returning his attention to the front of the classroom. This was too weird. Where was my Jisung? Maybe he was still sick. That could explain the weird behavior, right? 

The harsh sound of the release bell brought me out of my thoughts. Jisung was already packing up his stuff. “Hey, you wanna stop by Tony’s on the way home? You can buy me a slice!” I said latching onto his arm. The girls were right. Jisung had filled out. Feeling myself starting to blush, I let go and looked back up at my best friend. 

“I can’t. I’ve gotta run some errands fro May and then Uncle Ben asked me to pick up dinner and some other stuff.”

“I can come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll text you later!” 

Without another word, Jisung raced out of the classroom. I knew Jisung pretty well and it was clear he didn’t want me around today. Alone-again- I rode the subway back to my apartment to be greeted by an empty living room. My mom had left a note on the counter leaving me money for dinner and saying Jisung was welcome to come over. “Yeah, well he’s too busy,” I said to no one in particular. 

It got dark pretty quick. All my homework was finished. I even managed to submit the stupid article on lunch menus. Eventually, I had nothing to do but stare at my ceiling. The news was getting pretty boring. After the whole Avenger’s fiasco, things had quieted down, and no interesting stories were in sight. By 11:30 I had given up hope Jisung was going to text let alone call so I did the next best thing. 

“Hi, May! Is Jisung busy?” 

“Hi, sweetie! Jisung got home about an hour ago. He said he was out with Felix. Should I tell him to call you?”

“No, no. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell him. I’ll talk to him later.”

“Okay, honey. Goodnight!”

Han Jisung you filthy little liar. If he didn’t want to hang out with me he should have just said so. Deciding I had finally had enough of this awful day I curled up under my covers and fell asleep.

Months had now passed and Jisung had started acting normal again. Well as normal as Jisung could be anyway. Our near daily trips to Tony’s had decreased to only twice a week and Jisung always seemed to be busy after school, though he made sure to text me back for fear of facing my wrath. 

“What do you think of this Spiderman guy?” I asked typing away on my laptop. Jisung lounged across my bed, the Saturday afternoon light casting a warm glow over his face.  He looked up from his place beside me. “Uhh...I don’t know. What do you think of him?”

“He seems a little childish and amateur, but he is a great story. Vigilante helping out downtown New York? That’s gold.”

“Childish? What do you mean childish? He’s professional as fuck. I heard he stopped a bank robbery the other day.”

“Yeah, and they found the criminals hanging from a lampost by their underwear.”

Jisung laughed and ran a hand through his blonde hair before looking up at the ceiling. “You’ve been talking about Spiderman a lot lately. What do you have a crush on him?” I scoffed, fingers flying across my keyboard. “Please. I don’t date children. Besides, I just think he is a great story.”

“You wanna order takeout?” Jisung asked reaching over me to get my phone. My dad was on duty and my mom was on call so Jisung had come over to keep me company. I did my best to pretend I didn’t notice how amazing he smelled as he leaned over me. “You know you should really stop eating junk food. You are what you eat.” I said distracting myself from how close he was.

“Well then if we are what we eat, I guess I would be fast, cheap, and easy.” 

Jisung winked at me, making my eyes roll. Jisung had grown at home in his new body and somehow he got even cockier than he was before. He groaned at my lack of response and instead let his head rest in my lap, giving him a good view of my screen. “Play with my hair, bitch.”

“Excuse me, dick. I’m working.” He laughed and unlocked my phone. I often wondered why he liked just sitting with me. I think I remembered him telling me once that he liked the sound of me typing. He said it had sort of a rhythm that only belonged to me. How he could pick up on that I had no clue. Like he had superhearing. 

“I ordered sushi. Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” Jisung said, adjusting his body slightly so he wasn’t at an awkward angle. I smiled continuing to write about our masked arachnid hero. “Please tell me you got boba too.” I sighed suddenly craving the sweet drink.

“Of course, baby. I’ve got you.” 

There was a moment of silence. Any minute now Jisung was going to break it. The boy couldn’t go three minutes without talking. “Do you think Spiderman is hot?” Jisung blurted out. 

“Jisung...do we need to have a talk?”

“What- no! Oh, what- no! I mean like do you think he’s hot?”

“The guy wears a mask; how am I supposed to know?”

He shrugged and played on my phone. “I don’t know. What do you think he looks like?” With Jisung’s mind, he wasn’t going to drop this until he got an answer. Saving my work, I closed my laptop and moved it onto the side table. “He’s probably like thirteen. I’m mean he is skinny enough to be a pre-teen.”

“No, like his face.”

“You are weirdly obsessed with this you know.”

“Answer the question already. I’m getting bored.”

I thought for a minute, my hand unconsciously moving to run through his blonde locks. What would spiderman look like? “He is probably just some random white dude. Dark hair, blue eyes maybe?”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. The topic changed after that. Jisung told me about spending time with his Uncle earlier that day and we talked about his weird physics experiments. Soon enough, the food came and Jisung paid for it like he said he would. We spent the next several hours sitting in my bed eating sushi, drinking boba, and watching a drama Jisung insisted I ‘needed to see or my brain would explode out of my ears from being lame’.

After several episodes, my room was obscenely dark and my parents had yet to come home. My back rested against Jisung’s chest letting me feel the vibration of his laughs. “Hey, it’s late. You should probably head home.” He smiled when I made no attempt at moving or letting him up. “Do you want me to stay?” “Yes  please.”  He chuckled and pulled out his phone, calling his uncle and letting him know. 

Soon I began to grow tired, my head slumping back onto his shoulder. He poked my side, trying to wake me up. “Hey, go change for bed.” Sleepily, I nodded and shuffled out of bed to sift through my closet for a nightshirt. Jisung moved around getting comfortable while I changed. 

As I walked back over to the bed Jisung shut my laptop and placed it on my nightstand. When I climbed back into my bed he pulled me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my waist. It had been quite a while since Jisung had stayed over. It felt so nice just to be next to him, feeling the warmth radiating off his bare chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep. 

Jisung’s ringtone blared in my small room quickly waking me up. “Ji-” I said shoving my head under the covers. “I got it. Go back to sleep.” A quick glance at my clock told me it was two am. Who the hell was calling Jisung at two am? Jisung reached over me and grabbed his phone off the stand. He tried not to move a lot because my head still lay on his arm. “Hello?”

“Happy? What’s wrong?”

“Jisung tell the Disney dwarf to hang up. I wanna go back to sleep.” I whined, drowsily. Snuggling back into his chest, I reluctantly listened to him sleepily talk on the phone, Jisung not being fully awake himself. “Where am I? I’m at Y/n’s.....Yes....Yes, you can add the location to the list.” I felt Jisung run a hand through his fluffy hair and sigh.

“Mr. Stark said what? Yeah, yeah I have it in my bag....What now?....She’s gonna kill me....I can be there in ten.” Jisung hung up and started to get out of bed. “Woah, where the hell are you going? I need my personal space heater.” Jisung let out a tired laugh as he slipped his baggy shirt back on and rummaged through his bag looking for something. 

“I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Jisung who the fuck is calling you at two am? What is so important that you have to leave?” I asked still not really awake and comprehensive. “Uhhh....my....internship.”

“Your what?”

“My internship.”

“Your what?” 

“My internship.” 

“Yeah-Ji- you keep saying ‘your internship’ like my half-asleep half murderous mind will understand what your saying.”

 “I got an internship with Stark Industries. They have uh... a problem....with some of the...code that I wrote....last week.” 

Jisung started slipping his socks back on as I stared at him in confusion. “When did you get an internship with freaking Tony Stark -You work with Ironman?!” He laughed and started searching for his shoes. 

“Y/n, go back to sleep. I’ll see you on Monday.” Then he left. I was alone once again in my room. A random siren went off in the distance and I just sat in bed. Suddenly, the police scanner on my dresser crackled to life. My dad had given it to me for my birthday a few years ago. 

We have a 647g Disorderly Conduct at 284 Hickom Av.

647g? Why bother calling that in at this time of night? That was just loitering. Sighing, I got up and walked over to turn the radio off. Another voice coming through stopped me. 

Disregard suspect has left the premise with another group of guys. Headed south down Hickom. 

South down Hickom street? What had my dad said earlier this week? Something about several high arms deals going down near there. If I could catch one in the act this would be a great story! Throwing on some pants and slipping on my sneakers, I grabbed my camera and put on my jacket. “Finally a great story!” 

Hickom Avenue was maybe about ten minutes away. The streets were pretty dark at two am, but it didn’t really bother me. My curiosity overpowered any fear I should have. My eyes scanned the area looking for any sign of the guys the scanner mentioned. Just as I was about to cross in front of an alley I saw them. Quickly I doubled back and pressed against the wall. 

“If I’m paying 4k for some lightsaber shit, I’d better get a demonstration, man.”

Carefully I peeked around the corner. Seven men stood in the hallway. Three were next to this heavy-duty van with blacked-out windows. This was definitely an arms deal if I had ever seen one. Which....to be fair...I hadn’t. But it was pretty clear. 

A guy with muscles bigger than my head pulled out a large weapon with green glowing lights. Quickly I pulled out my camera and started snapping pictures. They proceeded to fire this huge light cannon around the alley. Holy shit. This thing was powerful.

“Okay, you got a deal. I’ll take four-”

Let’s dance the night away,

Let’s  dance the night away,

Yeaaaahh

One, Two, Three! Let’s go!

“Fuck,” I whispered ripping my phone out of my pocket and struggling to turn it off. “Turn off, come on.” Finally, I silenced the phone and turned to see if they had heard. Instead my eyes met a broad chest only a couple inches away. 

Okay....think, think, think. Too busy panicking. Can’t think. Uhhhhhh......fuck. I followed my first instinct and threw a punch at the guy’s nose. His head did not recoil like it was supposed to. He just simply cracked his neck and glared down at me.

Okay.....instincts bad.

Before I knew it I was struggling against the man’s grip as he dragged me into the alley. “We’ve got a visitor.” He said throwing me onto the ground in front of all the other men. They sneered and inched closer clearly quite upset I had interrupted their little party. 

“Make that two. Hey, how are you guys doing?” 

All heads turned to the roof of the liquor store we were next to. My eyes widened. There was Spiderman. Complete with the red and blue suit and cocky childish attitude. “Who the fuck are you?” The buff guy, who now had his foot digging into my stomach, said.

“Bro....Come on. I’m Spiderman. You know. I shoot webs and kick ass.” 

“Isn’t he that guy from YouTube that did the flip on that building?”

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

The man scoffed and pressed further onto my stomach, making me wince slightly. “Scram, Arachne Boy.” The men around me laughed at I assumed the leader’s joke. The hero sighed and shook his head.

“See now I have to beat you up. You can’t just make fun of my name. That shit hurts, bro.”

“What the fu-” Before he could finish his sentence a web shot and grabbed onto his face and flung him into the side of the building. Soon a fight broke out. Trying to remove myself from the situation I crawled away as Spiderman fought all the men. 

“Ah!” 

A strong hand grabbed the back of my neck and hoisted me off the ground. “You aren’t getting away that easy, little girl.” The man sneered. A huge welt was on the side of his face from Spiderman’s attack. My airway’s started to close as he squeezed tighter. My hands tried to pull his fingers away and slapping at any place I could reach. Meanwhile, the last thing I would hear before I died would be Spiderman yelling something about Naruto running a dude into the next Millenium. 

As the edges of my vision started to fade, I heard another voice come closer. “Get your fucking mutant hands off her!” It screamed. I was dropped to the ground. Air filled my lungs as I took huge gasps. Looking up I saw Spiderman taking on the huge monstrosity of a man with nothing but his own two hands. 

“I was told never to play with guns. But I think today might be the exception.”

A web shot out of his fingertips and pulled the weird contraption into his hands. A bright light emitted and fired at the man, blasting him into the building wall. Within seconds Spiderman had wrapped up the villain in a little cocoon of sticky webs, keeping him secure. A quick look around told me he had already done the same to the others. 

The boy in the red suit danced around like a weirdo, while I sat on the ground. “Go Spidey! Go Spidey! Hell yeah! I made all of you my bitches!” I coughed still trying to get air back into my lungs. The white eyes on his mask widened. It must be some pretty advanced tech in that suit.

“Holy shit- Are you okay, Y/n...........I mean...wait-...random citizen I don’t know who means nothing to me personally. Are you okay?”

His voice weirdly got lower halfway through his sentence. Dazed, I looked back up at him. He offered me a hand up and gratefully I took it. “Thanks for helping back there,” I said, voice coming out a bit sore. He shrugged and puffed out his chest. 

“Yeah, I did kick some serious ass didn’t I?”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my camera and started to walk away. “Wait! Where are you going?” He swung from a lamppost and landed in front of me the suit’s eyes widening and shrinking again. His suit must have facial readers or something. 

“I’m going home. I’ve got my story; I’m done.”

“Hey it’s not safe. Let me take you home. What would your friends say if you weren’t at school tomorrow?” 

Spiderman continued to follow me as if he were a lost puppy. I laughed when he almost tripped over a trashcan. “Okay, one- how do you know I’m a student? And two- I don’t really have any friends. People don’t like me at school.” He stopped in his tracks. 

“What do you mean- Are you getting bullied at school?” His words stopped me. He sounded genuinely concerned. By now we were halfway to my apartment. I simply stared at him as the old streetlights flickered and struggled to light up the sidewalks we were on.

“A couple people bother me, but I just ignore them. Look I’m gonna go home. Thanks for back there. You were a real hero.” 

He looked between me and my hand as I stuck it out for him to shake. Slowly he took it, his grip firm, but cautious. “You know, usually heroes get a thank you kiss for rescuing such a gorgeous girl.” I scoffed and pulled my hand away. 

“Sorry, Spidey. I’m not interested in cocky little shits who run around wearing masks.”

“Yeah well, you’d be surprised. What is your type? Bet, I’m still it.”

My eyes lit up thinking about him. “I guess I’m more of the boy next door type. They say you always fall for your best friend right?”

He blinked as if he was processing my words. What I thinking? A horny fourteen-year-old boy wouldn’t understand. “Night, Spidey. Thanks for the save.” Not letting him say another word, I headed back to my apartment. My apartment was still empty when I returned. My parents wouldn’t be back until after I left for school in a few hours. Reluctantly I went back to my bed, missing the space where Jisung lay only a few hours earlier. It was harder to fall asleep without him next to me.

My legs carried me as quickly as they could. I ignored the crazy looks from people on the street as I raced to May’s apartment. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I burst through the building’s main entrance. Knowing the elevator would take too long and it was probably broken again, I took the stairs up to the fourth floor. 

The door was unlocked when I ran into the apartment. “May? May!” I called, looking for her in the living room. Hearing small cries I turned to find her exiting the kitchen. With open arms, I let her hug me and cry into my shoulder. 

We sat in the kitchen in silence. Occasionally one of our cries would slip, but the emptiness would return. He wasn’t answering any of my calls. I was beginning to worry. May said they were together. Where was he? It had been hours since May had called me. The sound of the door opening made us both stand from our seats. 

Jisung walked in with heavy shoulders and blood on his forehead and smeared across his shirt. He had dried tears staining his cheeks. I had seen the footage of the shooting on the news with May, but the sight of Jisung standing before us made my heart break. 

I held myself back as May went to her nephew. They needed each other. I could wait. Whispers between the two were shared, most likely about her husband. She had already gotten a call, but hearing it from Jisung seemed important to her. After a moment she excused herself, saying something about wanting to go to bed. 

The two of us stood in silence. I had no idea how to comfort him. How could you comfort someone who just watched their uncle die? Jisung started to slowly move towards his room. Wordlessly, I followed. 

After I closed his door, I turned to find him staring at the walls small cries coming from his form. There were pictures of him and his uncle all over his room. Jisung sighed when I wrapped my arms around him from behind. He turned around so he could hold me to his chest. Hot tears fell against my neck as he cried. 

It felt like hours before he calmed down. Gently I led him over to the bed and sat him down. All he could do was stare at his hands as I grabbed a clean shirt from his closet and a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was no fight from him as I lifted the bloodied shirt from his body and put it in the hamper. 

Carefully, I lifted his chin and gently started cleaning the blood away from his face. I tried not to wipe away the tears that slowly ran down his cheeks. He looked broken-and tired like he hadn’t slept even before today’s events. My heart shattered when he finally looked me in the eye. 

“I’m not ready for this.” He whispered, more tears falling. 

Wrapping my arms around him, I let the clean shirt fall to the floor. “I know...” I tried to keep tears from falling from my own eyes. I concentrated on running my fingers through his hair and how tightly he held onto my waist. “You’re never going to be ready for it.” He cried even harder, making me want to scream for him. 

Slowly, I laid back onto his bed, holding him on top of my chest. “No one is ever ready for what you are going through,” I whispered. His body shook from crying and he buried his nose into my neck, holding onto me as if I were the only tether keeping him from floating away. “But, you are so strong. We aren’t faced with challenges we can’t overcome.” His breathing started to steady as my hand traced patterns on this bare skin of his back. “Sometimes I wish I was normal,” He whispered.

“Ji, you are anything but normal. And that’s okay. But for now...you can just be here. I’ll be with you. When you’re ready you can do whatever you need to. But...just stay here for now.”

He nodded and held onto me even tighter. I listened to his breath, gently rubbing his back and playing with his hair. When I knew he was asleep, I let myself do the same. Tomorrow would be another day. I would most likely have to leave and let Jisung and May grieve, but for now, I could be with him. Hopefully, that was enough. 

Early the next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. Jisung’s covers were loosely wrapped around me and his window was cracked open, letting a strip of sunlight in. Slowly, I sat up and rubbed my head. It was quite unusual for him to be up this early. Well, it was quite unusual for me to be up this early, but it was like my body had a sensor for when he was gone. I pulled my phone from the table and started to text him.

The sound of the window opening caused my attention to turn. I froze as I saw Jisung climbing through the window. “What the fuck!” He froze when he saw me. My eyes widened, taking the sight in. Jisung was standing before me wearing a familiar red and blue suit, a mask in his hand. 

“Y/n, I can explain...”

Was Jisung Spiderman? Was my best friend Spiderman? Holy shit! “Okay explain!” He simply stared at me, eyes wide. His hand came to scratch the back of his neck. His eyes avoided mine as my arms crossed my chest. 

“Jisung, might I suggest explanation protocol #38 for Miss L/n?”

“Oh my God! Friday, shut up! You aren’t helping.”

I watched as Jisung said to the AI apparently in his suit before he tossed the mask onto his desk. “You have an explanation protocol for me?” The look on his face showed that he knew he was in trouble. 

“See the thing is...I’m not Spiderman-...” He stopped when I glared at him. “Okay, I am Spiderman. This is my internship with Mr.Stark.” Without hesitation, I got up from his bed and started slapping his arm.

“This doesn’t even hurt, does it? You have superstrength. Oh my god, I’m going to fucking murder you.” An aggravated sigh left my chest. “So this whole entire time you have been swinging around the city saving people and doing flips on buildings and I was none the wiser?” I said turning back to him.

“That was one time! But...yes.” He stood awkwardly in his own room. “Look, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” He gulped when my stern gaze turned back on him. “So, anything you ask I’ll answer.” 

“Who else knows?”

“Mr. Stark, Happy- the guy who is my supervisor-, and Felix.”

“FELIX?”

He flinched as my voice raised. Taking a breath, I calmly sat back down on his bed. He watched as I crossed my legs and turned off the sound on my phone. No way was I gonna let my parents interrupt this conversation. “How did you become like...this...” I asked pointing to his clearly toned physique.

“At first I thought it was just like another puberty thing. But, like puberty doesn't make me shoot webs out of my hands. I think it was that spider from the lab.”

“So do-...are all your...bodily fluids...like...webs? Like do you shoot webs out of everywhere or-”

“You wanna find out?” Jisung said with a smirk, coming closer. I did not hesitate to slap him. 

“You couldn’t think of a better name though? Spiderman, really? You couldn’t come up with something more aggressive?”

“Well, I mean...like - spiders are cool, okay!”

I could tell he was uncomfortable. Usually, Jisung always stood up straight and had some sort of a smile or smirk on his face, but he was truly nervous. He watched me expectantly, waiting to answer whatever questions I asked next.

“So when you said you were away on a company retreat for the weekend. That was actually you who was fighting Captain America and all that shit in Prauge?”

“Yes.”

“When you left that night, did you go to the arms deal?”

“Yes.”

“So, it was you who saved me.”

“Your welcome.”

“Don’t push it.”

Nervously, he let out a laugh. No matter how many questions I asked...he was still my best friend. I was proud of him. He was doing so much good. Don’t get me wrong I was still very pissed at him for not telling me. “You owe me pizza at Tony’s for the rest of the fucking year.” A sigh of relief left his chest and he wrapped me in a hug. 

“That’s fine by me. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t ask about the whole crush thing.” I pulled away to see that fucking smirk on his mouth. “I think it’s cute you’re in love with me.” He tugged me closer to his body, gripping my waist.

“Who says I’m in love with you?”

“Me.”

“You’re an asshole- you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“I’m an asshole, not a liar. There’s a difference.”

My breath caught in my throat when I saw his eyes glance down to my lips. I could practically feel my heartbeat pulsing through my entire body. It was true and he knew it. I was in love with him. “Well....what are you going do about it? Prick...” I said in a shaky breath. He let out a soft laugh, his eyes lighting up. 

“Kiss you....bitch.”

My heart went crazy as he pressed his lips to mine. Closing my eyes, I melted into his touch. This was definitely the craziest two days of my entire life. I never would have imagined I would have to comfort my best friend, find out he was a superhero running around New York, and then have him kiss me in his bedroom.

Jisung smiled as I kissed him back, draping my arms around his neck and threading my fingers through his blonde hair. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought kissing Jisung would be like this. Without his mouth leaving mine he pushed me up against the wall of his bedroom. He sighed when my teeth caught his bottom lip.

“Fuck...do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” He asked before returning to my lips. 

“Kissing me?”

“To be honest I’ve been thinking about more than that since I was thirteen.”

Ignoring my scoff, Jisung continued to attack my lips like he had found water for the first time after walking in a desert. His hands slid under my legs, making me shriek when he picked me up. In one swift motion, he turned around and threw me onto his bed, before hovering over me. “I love you,” He whispered, before placing a soft kiss on my lips. Slowly, he moved down to my neck, my hands running through his soft hair. Impatiently, I pulled him back to my lips. 

Our little makeout session was interrupted by the sound of Jisung’s phone ringing. He sighed and dropped his head onto my shoulder. “I have to get that,” He sighed and pushed himself off the bed, walking over to pick up his phone. My eyes couldn’t help but rake over him. Now, I could freely ogle how gorgeous his body was. I bit my lip, looking at the lines of his broad shoulders go down to his slim waist.

“Happy, now is not a good time.”

“Yes....among other things...” A blush flooded his cheeks as he looked back at me still laying on his bed. 

“Can’t Mr. Stark send someone else?”

“I’m not just going to up and leave.”

Getting bored, I got up and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to look over at me, but I just buried my face in his chest. Patiently, I waited for him to finished the call with Happy. Finally, he threw the phone onto his bed and kissed me again. “Do you have to go?” I asked against his lips. He pulled away another smirk filling his face.

“You want to go to Berlin for a week?”

“What?”

“Mr. Stark needs me in Berlin. Something about S.H.I.E.L.D and an Avenger thing. But, there is no way May will let me go. Especially after yesterday.”

“Why am I going?”

“Happy said I could take you with me, you know to convince May to let me go.”

I laughed and kissed him again. “Sure. I’ll go to Berlin with you.” He laughed and spun me around the room. “However, you are gonna be the one to tell my dad that we are going alone with no chaperone to a country where the drinking age is sixteen.” 

“Fuck.”

“Good luck, Ji.”

Requests are open, just send an ask my lovelies!

Masterlist

[lamen-trash]

Can I place a written request for Captive Prince?on a rainy day, laurent arrives tired after a day of school in college and damen is home to welcome him. damen makes popcorn and they watch movies on the couch.damen gives Laurent a little massage so he can de-stress(pls make Laurent wear glasses,I've been obsessed with it since I read his fic for the most recent rehearsal request!)they have 3 cats(or dogs,you decide)

Domestic Damen and Laurent

Set one year after part 1. 

The rain that had drenched Laurent’s thin clothing on his walk home seemed to soak through his skin, the biting cold gripping his bones with a tight, unyielding fist. He saw no one as he trudged along a dark street against the wind, only a few minutes away from his destination. 

He ached for Damen. It wasn’t the first time he’d missed his lover recently. The day had dragged along dreadfully, and the only thing getting Laurent through it was the thought of Damen waiting for him at home. 

Home. It was a new thought – once tentatively hopeful, but now certain and bursting with unimaginable joy. It was still unfathomable to Laurent, sometimes, that he could share this life with someone who matched him in every way and gave him a newfound sense of ease, of comfort and belonging. 

At first, when Damen had suggested they move in together, Laurent was speechless. Even after being with Damen for many months, he still managed to get caught off guard by the abundant proof of Damen’s love. But he was serious, and Laurent was helpless to the thought of rarely having to leave his side. 

Laurent almost groaned in relief as he entered into his apartment building, the dry air of the lobby area a welcome feeling. He practically sprinted up the stairs, exiting on the second floor before arriving at apartment 226. 

A shift of the lock, and he was inside. The light from within was warm, the air warmer. 

After quietly hanging up his coat and bag, Laurent went toward the kitchen doorway, its light and the promise of Damen calling to him like a beacon. And there he was, a large and welcome presence putting the last of the clean dishes away. 

“Sweetheart,” Damen grinned when he caught sight of Laurent and a moment later opened his arms. Laurent fell into them without hesitation, burying his face into the warmth of his lover’s neck and sighing. Two of their cats – Auggie and Sylvia – leapt down from the counter to weave between Laurent’s legs, meowing up at their owner with excitement. 

It felt good to be home.

“Long day?” Damen murmured. Laurent squeezed him harder. 

“You have no idea.”  

Damen pulled back for a moment, his hands on Laurent’s shoulders. “You’re soaking wet,” he said, concern furrowing his eyebrows. 

Laurent smiled sheepishly. “It rained on my walk home.”

Damen shook his head once, then pulled Laurent back into his embrace for a few moments.

“Do you want to take a bath?” Damen murmured, and Laurent acquiesced without hesitation; baths were one of his few guilty pleasures. 

They entered into the bathroom together, and Damen wordlessly went to turn on the bath’s faucet and pour lavender-scented bubble bath into the pooling water.

As the bath began to fill up, Damen sat Laurent on the edge of the tub and kneeled before him, his hands reaching up to peel Laurent out of his soaked clothing. Nothing was said between them, the silence a comfortable blanket that warmed Laurent up almost as much as Damen’s touch.

The cold had rendered Laurent’s skin almost translucent, his blue veins standing out starkly against their pale canvas. Damen frowned when he noticed, and quickly began kissing warmth back into Laurent’s flesh. He started on Laurent’s right wrist, reverently pressing his mouth to the soft inside before moving up a centimeter, and then another, heated breath fanning out over pale skin. Laurent sighed, and let his head tip forward in thoughtless surrender. 

Damen worked his way up Laurent’s arm before moving to the other one, and Laurent closed his eyes and just felt as Damen’s lips covered his shoulder, neck, chest, stomach, the faucet running like white noise in the background. His breath rushed out of his mouth when Damen’s lips ghosted over the insides of his thighs, and he was met with a warm pair of brown eyes and a wicked grin upon opening his eyes. 

“Get up here, brute,” Laurent breathed, and Damen surged forward to kiss him. He tasted familiar.

They got lost in each other for a few breathless minutes before Laurent whispered against Damen’s lips, “I think the bath is ready.” 

Taking a tender step into the bath, Laurent hissed for a second before his skin started to adjust to the blistering heat. Damen knew just how he liked it. A moment after he settled down into the water, Damen undressed and entered behind him, plastering himself to Laurent’s back and wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s midsection. Laurent leaned back with a hum, which prompted Damen to nuzzle his head into the enticing space between Laurent’s neck and shoulder. 

Minutes ticked by, interrupted only by the gentle sloshing of water that moved with their hands sweeping across each other’s bodies. Nothing existed except the feeling of their skin pressed together and the slow glide of their touches. The bathroom filled with steam, and Laurent basked in the lavender scent of it, letting it lull him into a light sleep in Damen’s arms. 

It could’ve been a minute or an hour later, Laurent wasn’t sure, when he drifted back to consciousness to the feeling of Damen massaging his shoulders. 

He sighed, and nuzzled his face into Damen’s neck. 

“What’s this?” Laurent mumbled. 

“You seemed so tense,” Damen said, his thumbs digging a little deeper into the muscle, making Laurent groan in a heady mix of ecstasy and tenseness. 

“I’ve been leaning over a desk studying and taking notes non-stop all day while sitting in the most uncomfortable chairs. It’s not exactly my dream day.”

Damen’s grip changed as he worked his way across Laurent’s shoulders before making his way up to his slender, elegant neck. The noise Laurent made was downright sinful, and Damen had to bite back his grin. Someone was definitely enjoying themselves. 

It continued on like that for some time, as Damen worked his grip across the tight spots in Laurent’s body. Laurent basked in it – the way Damen handled him both firmly and gently, his love bleeding through every touch. 

Eventually, the bath water ran cold. Laurent did not mind, though; he and Damen had plans to watch a movie together that night, and he was excited to cuddle up on the couch under blankets with his stupidly loving boyfriend. 

Damen towelled Laurent down thoroughly before wiping himself down much quicker. He then stepped forward and delivered a peck to Laurent’s lips. 

“You take your time getting dressed. I’m going to heat up the takeout I got for you and get the movie ready,” Damen explained before jogging out of the bathroom completely naked. 

Laurent had to restrain his laughter. Sometimes Damen was just so ridiculously Damen and the man didn’t even realize it. 

A rush of private joy swept through Laurent upon entering the closet and seeing their clothes hung up side-by-side together. Two months had passed since their move-in, and Laurent was still not entirely used to these little reminders of the ways their two lives were now intertwined. 

After dressing in his usual cotton shorts and one of Damen’s large t-shirts, Laurent grabbed his glasses without hesitation and headed into the living room, where Damen was placing his takeout onto the coffee table. 

Damen smiled when he saw Laurent, coming over to slip his arms around Laurent’s slender waist. “Mm, you put them on.”

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Do you even like me or just the glasses?”

Damen let out a hearty laugh at that, and his delight was contagious. 

“I like it when you’re comfortable, and yourself,” Damen explained, brushing his thumb down a porcelain cheek. “The glasses are just a manifestation of your trust in me, so of course I love them.”

Suddenly feeling like he was going to burst from all the emotions pushing against his ribcage and the blush rising in his cheeks, Laurent pushed past Damen into the kitchen. 

“You’re making popcorn?” Laurent asked, when he heard distinct popping noises coming from the microwave. 

“It is a movie night,” Damen explained simply, before directing Laurent to the couch. “Now pull up our movie options.”

They ended up going with a romantic comedy Damen had wanted to see, and though Laurent resisted and rolled his eyes, he was secretly excited to see Damen become engrossed in a cheesy plotline. Laurent could feel any remaining tension ease out of him as he settled on the couch with his food, lover, and cats around him. 

Sylvia, who was still a kitten, climbed onto Laurent’s shoulders and pawed at his glasses before wrapping herself around his neck, while Auggie laid against Laurent’s leg. Damen had his arm wrapped around his boyfriend, its weight like a security blanket, and they were about to start the movie when Laurent realized something. 

“Buttercup!” he called out into their apartment, hoping the seclusive feline would show. “Come here, baby.” 

Sure enough, a minute later, a calico cat slinked around a corner with all the attitude of a movie star before hopping up into Laurent’s lap, almost sitting directly on his food. Both men laughed, and Laurent reached out to stroke Buttercup’s soft fur while Damen started the movie. 

It was cheesy, but it was perfect. Laurent could feel all the cats purring while he petted them and devoured his food. Damen was a constant presence by his side, ceaselessly stroking Laurent’s hair and delivering random kisses to the crown of his head. He even came up with a game where they “had” to kiss every time the two protagonists kissed each other. And even though it only happened three times, Damen found other ways to sneak in more kisses throughout the movie. Laurent wasn’t complaining. 

That night, as Laurent fell asleep against Damen in their shared apartment, surrounded by their pets, no coherent thought besides formless bliss entered into the confines of his mind. He was home, and he was safe.

Read this ficlet on AO3. 

[seriouslysam8]

For the ask game, would you please answer questions numbered 2, 8, 14 (all of your titles have such cool names), 18 (I hope Abditory isn't one of them as that story rocks), 21, 24, 29, 30, 33, 34, 44, 51, 62, 76, 82, 85, 88, 90, and 98.

Sorry for asking so many, but I love your work! Entombed gave me so many feels! I found your stories because author Breanie said to read them in her author's notes. Best rec ever! Thank you for answering.

Wow, that is a lot of asks! Thank you so much for wanting to know so much about little ole me. I think I hit them all in this and my apologies if I missed one. Let me know if I missed one. @breaniebree is awesome and my writing BFF. She is amazing, and I love her.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

So, I’ve written for The X-Files, Supernatural, and Harry Potter. I currently only write for Harry Potter. I would say Harry Potter has always been the most fun.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Random shit. Brontide came to me because I was browsing the HPFanfiction subreddit looking for a story suggestion and someone asked for a story where Harry was addicted to Felix. Only one unfinished dimensional time travel story was listed. It idea sparked me to write my own version. Entombed came to me because I was rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Buffy was buried alive. I knew I wanted to bury Ginny alive. As I stated in the author’s notes of last Kalopsia chapter, I drew inspiration from the Djinn storyline in Supernatural. I write about things I know, too. I have young kids at home so I like writing the Potter children as young because I can mimic their mannerisms in my writing. I’ve even asked my kids to say certain words to emulate their speech pattern in my writing if I’m writing that age group.

14) How did you come up with the title for the XXX? You can ask about multiple stories.

I HATE coming up with titles. My newest trend has been to literally Google “unique words”. There are a ton of Pinterest accounts who make fancy word and definition pictures. I scroll through all these little unique words and pick out ones I think fit a story. Sometimes I Google a unique word for BLANK and see if I can get a cool version of that name. @breaniebree actually helped me with Entombed.

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Sadly, I would put Abditory in this category. Never say never though. I think about it from time to time. Honestly, I abandoned it due to such a negative response I was receiving and the lack of positive response. I became discouraged. It wasn’t even negative response due to my writing, it was literally a bunch of “why would you waste your time writing a story about the biggest plot hole in the books? JKR butchered the whole SK storyline and it’s unbearable to read.” So, basically, my reviews and PMs were filled with JKR hate over that plot point in the books. They heavily outweighed the positive reviews I received. Honestly, I think that’s why a bulk of stories get abandoned - lack of positive reviews or enthusiasm for a story. If I didn’t get so many great reviews for my stories, I don’t know if I’d be able to finish them or continuing writing new ones. Fanfiction is free, (as it should be) but it’s a lot of time and hard work. A little appreciation goes a LONG way. So, my advice, review everything you love reading and encourage writers to keep writing. I always say in my authors notes that reviews make me want to write and inspire me. That’s the truth. The moment I stop getting reviews will probably be the time I take a writing break again.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

@breaniebree. I mean she’s dedicated years to a single story with so many plot lines and characters that I’m amazed she did it. She’s a fantastic writer, and I definitely consider her my writing BFF. I feel like I’ve learned a lot from her and enjoy talking about writing with her so much. I’m so glad we’ve become friends.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Horrified. Anytime I get a little steamy in my stories, it goes immediately to @breaniebree who usually adds way too much smut and then I cut it down to still be somewhat PG-13 in order to appeal to a wider audience.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I feel like Kalopsia isn’t getting as much love as my other stories. I’m way behind in my normal review count per chapter. I wonder if it’s just the confusing storyline or if it’s just not as fun to read? But I was definitely worried it wouldn’t get the love I thought it deserved when I started writing it and it’s lived up to that expectation.

30) In contrast to 29, is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Cronus Rising. People still recommend it occasionally and I still get random reviews. I’m like, “why????” Its horribly written and a stupid plot line. I literally was getting back into writing after not writing for a good five years, so it’s abysmal. I’ve often wanted to rage delete it.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

When someone tells me I should write an original novel and they’d buy the hell out of it. I do have some original novel ideas floating around (one I’ve been writing since I was like 15), but crippling fear of rejection from publishers have stopped me from ever actually finish an original novel.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I got some criticism in Brontide for having drama for drama’s sake with no real purpose or goal for said drama. I felt my drama served a purpose, drove the story along, and I add a lot of fluffy and cute family moments. I feel like in real life, when you to your loved one is going through sometime, it feels like nonstop drama and bad news and like a dark cloud just follows you. I wanted to emulate that in real life. So Harry’s POV was often drab because HE was the one going through something horrific and it was all doom and gloom for him.

44) What is the last line you wrote?

“You never think I listen to your ramblings, but it’s kind of hard to block out, mate.”

51) From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Um... I’d say a 3. I think I have some good and unique plots for stories but sometimes I struggle on how to execute those on paper effectively. I struggle with descriptions, action, and showing rather than telling. But I do think I’m good at dialogue and capturing a character’s personality. So, 3.

62) Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

A lot! I have a Teddy/Victoire stalker story in the works that I’m excited about. I have (this is going to sound weird) but an outsider rom-com planned where Ron/Hermione breakup right before Hinny’s wedding and Hinny struggles to get them back together before the big day. I have a Potter family vacation fluff/comedy story planned. I have a game night one-shot planned. I have a short story about Luna’s wedding. So many that I want to write and don’t know which one to write first!!

76) Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

I’d say no. I’ve always tried to write my ideas down. Some I’ve never finished because inspiration peters off and some I plan on finishing once my newest big project is done.

82) Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

Harry goes through some shit, and Ginny is his soulmate.

85) Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I don’t understand why people don’t ship Harry/Ginny more. I don’t understand the Harry/Daphne obsessions (like just why???) or the Harry/Hermione ship at all. I always see people asking for story recommendation and they specific say “no Harry/Ginny”. They are literally perfect for one another and they are soulmates.

88) If you could ask one other fanfic author three questions about their writing, writing process, or works, what would they be and who would you ask?

@breaniebree .

1.) How do you organize all your charts? Send me the ALL the charts. Because I don’t understand how you keep everything straight!

2.) How do you write so much? You’re like a little writing machine in a cute little package.

3.) Where do all the ideas come from? In a dream? Just thinking? Driving? Do you write everything out in your head like meeee? Can I have some of your writing mojo?

90) How do you process and deal with negative reviews?

I obsess over them. I analyze them. I may get bummed out and not write for a few days. If you don’t like what I write, then don’t read or review. It’s a hobby. I do this for free. I’m not asking you to critique me. Give me a nice review or ask me a question, but don’t be cruel or mean because you can hide behind a keyboard and be a bully to make yourself feel superior.

98) If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to and why?

Music. I grew up with three older brothers. My house was always rowdy and loud and obnoxious. I need it to be loud. I can’t stand the silence or focus when it’s silent. I need music to help me think and write. When I’m home alone, I always turn on the TV or music, because I can’t stand when it’s silent. I think I’d go insane.

[silverlightqueen]

Fallen

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

angel!felix x demon!reader - comedy, fluff, felix worrying about losing his job as an angel lmao 

Word Count: 2.4k+

Summary - Felix is an angel. Literally. Like, from Heaven. And he’s the best at being one. Never has he let temptation lead him astray. Never has he stopped before doing what is right. Never has he abandoned his assigned humans, even those that provide the most challenge. He’s never stepped a toe out of line, always kept his crush on a particularly annoying demon a secret. That is, until, he wakes up in the bed of said annoying demon with lipstick stains on his skin and his halo a little crooked.

Warnings: explicit discussion of sex, making out, that’s it I think but let me know if I missed something please!

this is dedicated to the lovely @brinnalaine​ for being such a supportive sweetheart, so I hope you enjoy this little fic about our sunshine!

a/n: and here is the sixth instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I’m sorry it’s so late in the day but I’ve spent all day at a theme park scarefest getting terrorised by clowns and dolls in terrifying mazes lmao. @silverlightprincess​ hasn’t actually proofread this but she proofreads everything else so I still want to thank her for being the best! I really hope you guys enjoy this bc it was really fun to write. please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too x

taglist: @kodzu-ken​ @cloudsgathering​ @silverlightprincess

silverlightqueen navigation

I wake up with something heavy on my face and a dizzy head from my mouth and nose being blocked. I try to take a deep breath and, instead, end up inhaling something soft and wispy, making me choke. I sit up suddenly, pushing the heavy thing off me with effort as I splutter, trying to empty my mouth of whatever it is that’s invaded it. And then I reach a finger into my mouth and end up pulling out feathers. Pure white and fringed feathers.

‘Did you just shove my wing, y/n?’ I hear Felix’s deep morning voice mumble into his pillow, and I shoot his back a dirty look, fishing his stupid feathers out of my mouth and trying to ignore the way I get butterflies in my stomach at hearing him say my name with that voice of his. He’s got his massive wings out for some stupid reason, one of them taking up my side of the bed whilst the other hangs over onto the floor. His hair, a lovely soft blond colour, is a fluffy mess on the pillow, and I can feel the heat that his body radiates despite only having the covers up to his hips, the band of his underwear just about visible.

I’ve been running into Felix quite a bit in the last few months – somehow he was always being assigned to humans in areas that I was… terrorising people in. Angels and demons have always had a… rocky relationship, but Felix was too pure, too kind, too sweet for me to be a bitch to him like I’ve been to all the other angels I’ve encountered. So I put up with his annoyingly sunny presence and his random acts of kindness and him stopping me from feeding on humans because ‘they haven’t done anything wrong!’ After him starving me for months, I got fed up and made a deal with him. I would scare the shit out of people to feed on them, and he would erase their memories so they wouldn’t be scarred for life. We became a… partnership of sorts, making me the most well-fed demon and him the highest achieving angel. To celebrate our successes, I took him to a new trendy bar last night and we got super drunk on fruity cocktails. And here we are now, with my cute red dress on the floor next to his black jeans.

‘Yes. I did. Because it was on top of me, suffocating me, and now I have a mouthful of your dumb feathers. Why are they even out? Put them away please?’ I ask harshly, injecting more annoyance into my voice than I feel, and Felix sighs, rolling his shoulders without moving from his position of being sprawled out on his front in my bed, and his wings slowly shrink, diminishing into his strong back, the only trace of them the two small bumps between his shoulder blades.

‘Don’t call my feathers dumb. I put a lot of effort into looking after them,’ he mumbles, voice still muffled in his pillow, and I roll my eyes, letting myself fall back against the bed. ‘Wouldn’t be able to tell. Coarse and ratty, they are,’ I tease half-heartedly, both of us knowing his feathers are softer than silk. ‘Like your hair,’ he replies in his wickedly deep voice, his amusement obvious in his tone, and I let out an outraged noise.

‘My hair is beautifully healthy, thank you. You should know – had your hands in it for hours last night,’ I pout, annoyed, as I pull the covers up around me, shivering. The room is absolutely freezing, due to the cold weather and the fact that I’m only in Felix’s thin white shirt and a pair of pants, so I can’t help but inch closer to him, his body radiating warmth. He doesn’t reply, but I don’t have any objections. I like my lazy morning lie-ins and it’d be nice to get a couple more hours of sleep.

‘Oh, shit,’ he says a few minutes later, sounding wide awake now, just as I’m beginning to drop off back to sleep, and I let out a loud huff of annoyance. ‘What?’ ‘I slept with you,’ he says as though he’s just found it out, lifting his head up from the pillow and looking at me with wide eyes. ‘Did you forget? I thought it was pretty memorable,’ I say offhandedly, amused. ‘It was. But I… I slept with you,’ he says, turning over and staring up at the ceiling, blinking in disbelief. ‘Right. I’m confused,’ I say, wondering if he’s lost his mind or something. My pussy’s good, but not that good. Or maybe it is? God knows. Actually, let’s hope God doesn’t know. She’ll probably kill Felix. Oh, right. I get why he’s freaking out now.

‘Oh, no. Angel boy’s having a mental breakdown because he fucked a demon, and God’s not gonna be happy,’ I tease in a light voice, holding back my laughter, and Felix sits up in bed, looking distraught. ‘She’s gonna kill me. She will actually kill me,’ he says quietly before dropping his head into his hands with a dramatic fake sob. ‘Oh, calm down. She doesn’t even need to know,’ I say, immensely amused, and Felix turns to me with distraught eyes. ‘She’ll know!’ ‘How? Unless one of us tells her, she won’t know,’ I say pointedly, telling him to keep his mouth shut but in nicer words.

‘But… she’s God. Won’t she just know?’ he asks, eyes wide like an innocent little kid, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You’re not the first angel I’ve fucked, Lix.’ ‘I’m not?’ he asks, sounding sceptical, and I shoot him a dirty look. ‘Don’t sound so disbelieving. But, anyway, she’s never found out about those before. As long as you don’t blab, it’ll be fine,’ I say, and he nods, looking like he’s on the verge of tears.

‘Lix, relax. Stop panicking. You’re ruining the morning-after mood,’ I say softly after a minute of him just staring at the wall unseeingly. I slide my arms around his waist, pulling him down to lie beside me, and I curl into him instantly, revelling in the warmth of his bare skin. His arm comes around me, holding me against him, and I can sense him relaxing a little. I lay a hand on his chest, over the red lipstick marks that stain his skin, drawing patterns with my fingers, and after a few minutes, he puts his hand over mine, making me look up at him.

He takes me by surprise when he leans down and presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss. My eyes flutter shut after the initial surprise, and I melt into him, hand sliding up from his chest to around the back of his neck, the short soft hairs at the nape of his neck tickling the pads of my fingers. His velvety lips are firm against mine, our mouths moving in sync, and I let out little breaths and whines against his mouth as his hands leisurely travel over my body, giving me butterflies in my stomach when his tongue slides into my mouth.

We break apart after a few minutes, the kiss leaving me breathless, and his lips quirk up in an amused grin. He might be the most angelic… angel in Heaven, but he touched me, kissed me, fucked me like a demon. ‘You’re cute,’ he murmurs, briefly pressing his lips to my forehead, and I try to ignore the little thrill in my chest, pouting at him instead. ‘I’m an evil demon that feeds on human fear. I’m not cute,’ I mumble, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘You are. You’re a cute evil demon that feeds on human fear,’ he replies with a grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘Shut it, angel boy, you’re the cute one here.’ ‘Here I was thinking you found me sexy.’ ‘In your dreams, Lix,’ I murmur amusedly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Not what you were saying last night.’ ‘…Shut up.’

He laughs at me, pulling me closer to him, and I feel warm and secure in his arms. His angel aura is definitely shining through – it feels like nothing could harm me if he’s here. We cuddle in a comfortable silence, his fingers running through my hair soothingly, and my eyes flutter shut after a little while, slumber beginning to take me. ‘What happens now?’ he murmurs, bringing me back from my snooze, and I resist the urge to put my fist through his chest.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask, suppressing a yawn, and he sighs gently as I move off him, lying beside him so I can look him in the eyes. ‘Where do we… go from here?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Um… you go back to Heaven and I go back to Hell,’ I reply, knowing that that’s not the kind of answer he’s looking for, and he rolls his eyes. ‘You know I don’t mean location. I mean… with us,’ he says tentatively, and I don’t react for a moment. ‘Are you asking me what we are?’ I ask, a little stunned, and he nods, looking like he wished he never asked.

‘We’re an angel and demon that have teamed up for our own interests, and we got drunk and slept together, which won’t affect our business partnership. Right?’ I say slowly, and I feel guilt twist in my heart when the hope disappears from his pretty brown eyes. ‘Right. Yeah. I just thought…’ he trails off, turning onto his back and not looking at me. ‘Thought what?’ I ask carefully, and he’s silent for a moment before sighing. ‘I thought that maybe it was something more. I mean… we’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I guess I have a bit of a… crush on you?’ he stammers, ending his sentence as a question as though he’s not quite sure.

He’s still not looking at me, and the words hit me like a ton of bricks. Felix, God’s favourite angel, has a crush on me, Lucifer’s favourite girl and a princess of the 9th circle of Hell? I’m not quite sure how to react to the words, just blinking in surprise for a moment. ‘You have a crush on me? Are you sure?’ I ask, and he lets out a little laugh, eyes still on the ceiling. ‘Yep, pretty sure. I’ve had a few months to think about it,’ he says offhandedly, and my mouth falls open. ‘You’ve had a crush on me the whole time?’ I demand, and he finally looks at me, nodding sheepishly.

‘Why didn’t you say anything, stupid?’ I exclaim, hitting his chest gently, and he lets out a light chuckle. ‘I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.’ ‘What friendship?’ I ask jokingly, and he looks at me deadpan. ‘Sorry. But seriously, are we, like, high schoolers? No. We’re centuries old supernatural beings. If you had a crush on me, you should’ve just told me, and taken me on a date. What is wrong with you?’ I demand, and he blinks at me several times. ‘Did you just say I should’ve taken you on a date?’ he asks, stunned, and I let out an annoyed noise. ‘Yes, keep up.’

‘But… you’re a demon, and I’m an angel.’ ‘Forbidden romances are better than normal ones. Like Cleopatra and Mark, Tristan and Isolde, Pyramus and Thisbe, Romeo and Juli-’ ‘Every one of those couples had a tragic end,’ Felix says dryly, an amused smile on his face, and I roll my eyes. ‘They were mortal, and were forbidden by their parents. It’s different.’ ‘Oh, yeah, we have God and Lucifer to deal with instead,’ he says sarcastically, making me raise an eyebrow. ‘Lucifer won’t care. It’s God that’s the issue. An easily solvable issue,’ I grin, and his face falls.

‘Are you plotting against God?’ he demands, looking completely outraged. ‘Don’t look so shocked, it’s not blasphemy for me. I’m a demon, stupid. But, no, I’m not plotting against her. I’m just gonna… talk to her,’ I say mildly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re gonna… talk to God? To get her to let us date?’ he asks, sounding disbelieving, and I nod simply. ‘She’ll kill you,’ he replies, eyes sparkling with mirth, and I just grin. ‘I think you’ll find I can be quite… persuasive,’ I reply, dragging my fingertips across his chest gently, the feeling of my long red nails lightly scraping his skin making his amusement disappear, a shaky breath leaving his lips. He blinks a few times, knocking himself out of his little trance. ‘I’m not sure trying to seduce her will work,’ he says lightly, and I smirk at him. ‘Oh, I know. I’m planning something else for her. It’s you I’m trying to seduce,’ I murmur, resting my thumb against my lower lip with a small smile, making my eyes all big, and I see him visibly gulp.

‘It’s working,’ he says distractedly, sliding his arms around me and pulling me on top of him, and I meet his mouth in a kiss, unable to keep the grin off my face as our lips move against each other in a way that numbs my mind. ‘Wait, wait,’ he says after a few seconds, breaking away from me. ‘Does this mean you like me too?’ he asks, looking hopeful, and I think for a moment. ‘You’ve got potential. You’re… handsome, and your personality isn’t totally annoying,’ I admit begrudgingly, heart skipping a beat at the big smile that comes across his face. ‘But,’ I add, making his smile fall a little, ‘some of the appeal is the fact that you’re a pure soul, a heavenly little angel, and I’m quite the opposite. I wanna knock your halo off, angel boy, so you better hope I don’t get bored when I’ve done so.’

He doesn’t react with the hurt I expected, a small smirk playing at his lips instead, and before I can realise that we’re moving, he’s rolled us over, his body hovering over mine. His locks fall over his eyes, casting shadows across his face, and his grin makes him look more like the demons I walk among than the angel he truly is. ‘Don’t worry about getting bored, y/n,’ he murmurs in his sinfully deep voice, one of his hands coming to rest at the base of my throat and making my skin burn hot with desire. I can’t help but mirror his grin, impressed at this very out of character behaviour. ‘Why not, Lix?’ I ask teasingly, and he just smirks, hand tightening at my neck, his sparkly eyes locking with mine. He captures my mouth in a passionate and desperate kiss, murmuring against my lips; ‘I’ll keep you entertained.’

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Laugh Out Loud Friday

Third to last installment for @cap-ironman rec week, and today we’re focusing on fics that, in my humble opinion, are flipping hysterical. For me that tends to mean lots of snarky banter, but I found some hysterical situation comedy in my favs folder too when I was looking for recs today. In any event, if you’re in the mood for a giggle, here’s some fics that’ll deliver in spades.

Moanin’

Author: Captain_Panda

Word Count: 1,041

Summary: Wet. Steamy. Sultry. Jazz.  It's jazz.  In a bathtub.

Why You Should Read It:

Captain_Panda’s another Stony gem that puts out good stuff on the regular, and this one’s just such a delightful gem.

Tony is naked, sick, and high on cough syrup. Steve needs to get him a dinner held in his honor. Honestly, the mental imagery alone is enough to do it for me; it is a firm principle of mine that far more people should write naked, high Tony Stark. This fic’s short, but it’s a great one to go back to if you’re looking for something light and silly.

Bells Will Be Ringing

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 29,651

Summary: Steve Rogers is in love with Tony Stark.  He's determined that he's finally going to do something about that.   Christmas is a time for love and togetherness, and now may be the best chance he has. But some things aren't as simple as they should be.

Why You Should Read It:

I absolutely cannot let a funny Stony fic list happen without recommending something by sci, because dear lord in heaven they are a funny SOB. Pick any of their fics at random and you’ll end up with something equal parts hilarious and delightful. It’s honestly a crime that their work is available for free.

This fic is yet another sci masterpiece, complete with their regular hallmarks of the best goddamn banter I’ve ever read, well-developed characters, spectacular world-building, and a lovely emotional payoff at the end. Additionally, it is absolutely hysterical. If you wanna read about the Avengers Council of Lesbians and what happens if you give Clint Barton a box of Pixie Stix, give it a read.

A Good Vintage

Author: JenTheSweetie

Word Count: 6,727

Summary:  “You own a what?” After Ultron shows up, instead of taking the Avengers to his secret family, Clint takes them to his secret winery.  Things go… a little bit differently.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly, it’s become a bit of a meme in the POTS server that everyone’s always recommending this fic, because A) It does not have nearly enough kudos, and B) Holy crap is it funny.

Clint owns a secret winery instead of a secret farm, and everybody goes there to lie low during Age of Ultron. There is drinking, and swimming, and 90′s hiphop, and a heck of a lot of nachos. Drunk decisions are made. Just a lovely Stony fic with a side of team bonding.

There’s Something Aboot Steve

Author: epicycles

Word Count: 2,314

Summary: "You know, it makes a lot of sense," Tony mused aloud, once all the shouting was over.  "You're so polite, you like maple syrup, you wear a lot of plaid."

Why You Should Read It:

Another one for the silly and delightful pile.

It turns out, Steve Rogers was born in Canada before immigrating to the U.S. when he was a few months old. What will the public say? Will Canada try to take him back? Are the Avengers prepared to fight their hockey-loving brethren to rescue Steve from the clutches of trained polar bears? All that and more answered in this fic.

Even My Phone Misses Your Call

Author: rainbowninja167

Word Count: 10,869

Summary:  Steve makes it all the way to Ohio before conceding that the post-Chitauri road trip might’ve been a mistake. Or, ten times Steve has to call Tony to come pick him up.

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s got more feels in in than what’s been on the list so far, but it’s all balanced perfectly against some damn funny stuff. Steve keeps getting into tight spots for one reason or another, and keeps calling Tony to come pick him up. Friendship, then something else develops from there.

One thing I really like about this one is that both Tony and Steve get to be the funny one. Snarky Steve is such a gift, as is “The serum enhanced all my senses except my common sense” Steve, and “I would be delighted to let you mistake me for a choirboy” Steve, all if which is present here. Add in some mutual pining and some high-quality smut and you’ve got a really delightful fic.

Out of Order

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 4,368

Summary: After Tony and Steve hook up in the Tower elevator, both of them are totally cool with keeping it casual. Totally, totally cool.

Why You Should Read It:

El’s another author it wouldn’t feel right leave out of a list of funny as hell Stony writers, and one whose works you could draw from at random and strike gold.

This one tells a story through times Steve and Tony ride the elevator together, because why have one bottle episode when you can have six? Tony is a snarky bastard, Steve is a smitten grump, both of them are garbage communicators, and at one point Clint spills a bunch of Milk Duds and goes “Aww, Milk Duds no!”. I literally cannot tell you why I find that last one so funny but that scene lives rent-free in my head under a big sign that says “Examples of the Clint Barton We Should’ve Had in the MCU.” Anyway, go read this sweet, funny, delightful fic, it’ll be the highlight of your day.

Lastly, one self-rec, because a witch sent me into the woods to find a cow as white as milk, a cape as red as blood, a hair as yellow as corn, and 10,000 AO3 kudos.

Stupid Sexy Avengers

Author: gogglor

Word Count: 22,624

Summary: Tony, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Jane, and Rhodey all tell each other the funniest thing that's ever happened to them related to their sex lives. If you're interested in hearing the Avengers tell stories about their lives that are funny and mortifying and surprisingly sweet, you've found your fic.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s Clint’s birthday, and as a birthday present he asks Steve and Tony to tell him what happened that got Steve to stop being so shy about making sex jokes. The end result is everyone around the common room telling each other the funniest thing that’s ever happened to them related to their sexual histories.

This one’s a part 2 of a series, but I deliberately wrote it to stand on its own, so there’s no need to go back and read part 1. In it, you’ll find stories of disastrous language misunderstandings, ideas so bad only horny teenagers could think of them, the bonds of friendship forged and tested (in one case literally), and a giant blue glittery dildo named “Mr. Dick.” Personally I think it’s one of the funnier things I’ve ever written, but what do I know, I’m just a Tumblr post you didn’t even pay to read.

We’ve got two more days of Cap-Ironman RecWeek, and I am delighted to tell you all that some of the best is yet to come. Ta-ta for now!

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

The response to this story has been lovely, so thank you all for reading. liking, reblogging and commenting on this piece of fluff. Hope you continue to enjoy.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

AO3

Previous

Chapter 6: From Irritation to Interrogation

And just like that, we’re friends, Jamie and I. It’s strange how quickly you can go from strangers to acquaintances to friends. After that walk in the park, something seems to have clicked with us, there’s an ease in our friendship that doesn’t happen too often. Despite our vastly different upbringings, we have many things in common: a shared love of irreverent comedy, a fondness for very good quality chocolate and wine and a determination to succeed in our chosen careers.

Of course, it helps that we don’t have the whole fancying-sexual-tension-romantic thing lurking in the background. As I’ve said before, Jamie is not my type and, judging by the pictures on his Facebook timeline, I am definitely not his, which appears to be doe-eyed, tanned, petite blondes— their pneumatic breasts frequently struggling to break free from their restraints. No tall, wild-haired brunettes with only-slightly-above-average breasts usually firmly encased in sensible lingerie.

I may even invite him to Geillis’ wedding as my plus one. We’ll see. I don’t think I’ll be dating by then, I quite fancy a few months without any of those complications.

********

One of life’s pleasures, for me, when I’m not on-call, is to walk to the local newsagents on a Sunday morning for the newspaper. If it’s fine, it’s another opportunity to sit on my balcony and read it at my leisure. A mug of freshly brewed coffee and a cinnamon bun enhances this experience.

Today, it’s not so fine, but sitting on my sofa while listening to the rain pounding against the window is pretty good too. I’m just about to start the crossword when my phone rings. I quickly swallow my mouthful of bun and glance at the screen—private number. I offer up a silent prayer that it’s not the hospital as I answer it.

“Claire Beauchamp?” The female voice sounds familiar.

“Yes.” I answer cautiously.

“Jes’ a wee word of warning. Karma can be a bitch, ye ken.” The voice grows louder and angrier. I recognise that tone, last heard berating Jamie. “Ye’ll get what ye deserve. Ye canna trust James Fraser, but ye’ll find out soon enough—the hard way, like I did… thanks tae ye.”

“Look, I—“ I begin, but before I can finish my sentence, she’s gone.

My initial reaction is irritation. Laoghaire, no doubt looking around for someone to blame for her recent break up, has cast me in the role of home wrecker, clearly using my carefully honed feminine wiles to lure Mr. Fraser from her clutches. Like Frank, she can’t quite believe that anyone could break up with her, without there being another waiting in the wings, ready and willing to take her place.

My irritation dissipates as I begin to see the funny side of this. She’s obviously thought long and hard about this—checking his Facebook friends, keeping records of his phone calls when they were together. Perhaps she sees herself as Jennifer Aniston against my Angelina. I hope Jamie can see this for what it is and laugh. Besides, in this scenario, that makes Jamie what? Brad Pitt?

*****************

Two days later, Jamie and I have arranged to have a quick drink after work in a mutually convenient bar. Summer has not yet returned to the city. Whilst not actually raining, the air is damp and there’s a definite nip in the air. I do a cursory check of the outdoor seating, just to see whether Jamie is heroically braving the elements, but there’s no sign of him.

I make my way into the bar and have a quick walk around before snagging a corner table. The seats are comfortable and it’s in a prime position for me to keep an eye out for his arrival. This bar has always been one of my favourites in the city. It feels grounded, like it’s been here forever. The stone walls and dark oak beams are unchanging and watching the inebriated trying to negotiate the uneven wooden floor on their way to the toilets always makes for good entertainment. In fact, people come from miles around to marvel at its very crookedness.

I check my phone for any messages. There’s one from Geillis, accepting my invitation for girls’ night on Friday at my flat. I reply and put the phone down just in time to see Jamie heading toward me. He’s obviously come straight from work as he’s still in his navy blue suit and white shirt. I’ve come straight from work too but am not nearly so smartly dressed. Having worn my blue scrubs all day, I’m now clad in jeans and a wrap around top which used to be orange, but has faded to a light amber colour. I feel somewhat underdressed next to him.

“Drink?” He asks, before even sitting down.

I nod. “I’m parched. Think I’ll have a shandy, please.”

“Lager shandy? Half pint?”

“Bitter,” I clarify, not being a great believer in girlie drinks. “And pint.”

He returns a couple of minutes later with a pint and a packet of crisps in each hand.

He takes a huge slug of beer. “Sae, what do ye ken? What’s new wi’ ye?”

And so, I recount my day of surgery to him. And, bless him, he looks interested all the way through my narration. He does turn a bit pale as I begin to explain my use of the bone mallet and chisel, and his crisps remain untouched, but he soldiers through.

“In other news,” I change the subject as his colour returns and he rips the crisps open. “I had an anonymous phone call from your ex, warning me about you and blaming me for your break up. But, never fear, I’ll get what’s coming to me when you do the same to me—“

A bout of coughing from Jamie breaks into my conversation.  I get up and thump his back a couple of times. The coughing stops as he takes a swig of beer.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat and continues. “Crisp stuck in ma throat. She did what? How does she ken who ye are?”

“Presumably she kept a record of your phone calls and is monitoring your Facebook friends. Maybe you need to check your phone, see if she’s set up any other little apps so she can track where you are or what you’re doing.”

He shakes his head. “Aye, I’ll do that. I canna believe she would go tae such lengths. Although…” he pauses for a moment. “... mebbe I can. She was always the, er, suspicious type—asking me about women at work, convinced they were ready tae pounce on me. Perhaps I’m not the best judge of character, Claire. Ye need tae advise me.”

I laugh. “Ok. I’ll be your wingman, if you like. Or vet all your potential girlfriends. How about that?”

Jamie joins in with the laughter. His eyes twinkle and it’s funny the way he wrinkles his nose as he laughs.

“How about you? How’re the Spanish influenced dinners going? What are you up to?” I ask him.

“The plans are going grand. We’ve three dinner options planned out.” As usual, his face lights up as he explains the various menus to me.

“They all sound delicious. I’m looking forward to trying them.” And that's the truth.

“Weel, funny ye should mention that. We are looking fer people willing tae test them. How about it? Fancy trying one out? This week, mebbe? Free, of course.”

My weekend plans are getting better and better. Girls’ night at my flat could be turning into a bit of a Spanish fiesta, a mini replay of our Barcelona trip.

“I’d love that. Thanks. I’m having Geillis, Mary and Anna ‘round on Friday for a catch up. I could give you their opinion on the meal too.”

Jamie types something into his phone. “Great, I’ll sort it. So, good weekend plans then?”

“Oh yes, what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve got a sort of date type thing,” he mumbles into his pint and, to my surprise he goes a little bit red. Is he worried about telling me? Does he think that I will mind?

“That’s nice...isn’t it?”

“I dinna ken, really. I… I suppose so. It’s ma sister, Jenny’s, idea.  A friend of hers from university. Ma sister canna quite believe that I’m no’ yet married and she keeps trying tae make it happen. And Jenny, weel, let’s jes’ say that she’s a force of nature. Ye dinna want tae mess wi’ her.”

***************

I’m not exactly the most gifted cook, but I think it would be hard to go wrong with the box of food and wine that Jamie has delivered. The asparagus is waiting to be cooked, the mouth-watering smell from the simmering  chicken and chorizo fills my flat and bowls of juicy Spanish olives— some plain and some with garlic and chilli are dotted about the dinner table. Feeling inspired, I root out a large jug and begin to cut up fruit for sangria.

Like alcohol-seeking missiles, I’ve no sooner prepared the sangria when the doorbell rings. With many hugs, Geillis, Mary, Anna and I greet each other. I accept their gifts of wine, chocolate and flowers as we head into the flat.

As usual, everyone gravitates to the kitchen as I pass the drinks around, complimenting me on the wonderful aromas. Geillis’ stomach rumbles in eager anticipation.

When the four of us are together, the conversation flows as freely as the wine. Honestly, you would swear that we had not seen each other for months, when, in fact, I saw Anna on Tuesday in theatre, and squeezed in a coffee catch-up with Mary and Geillis only two days ago. The topics we cover are wide-ranging and random. Sangria and olives are accompanied by Anna’s search for a new flat, then the conversation turns to the destructive tendencies of Mary’s kitten as I serve the asparagus and Serrano ham starter.

For the main course, we have the tale of Geillis’ father refusing to wear a kilt for her wedding—he is prepared to don tartan trews but, according to Geillis, that will spoil the whole symmetry of the wedding photos. Neither, at the moment, seem willing to back down but, having known Geillis for so many years, it’s obvious to me who will win.

By the time I bring out the selection of Spanish biscuits and turrón, the conversation has moved on to men, more specifically Mary’s crush on a locum doctor newly arrived in the department. There’s a lot of good natured teasing about this—Mary seems to develop a new crush every couple of weeks, and why not?

Geillis drains her wine and turns to me. “Fantastic meal, Claire. Better than yer usual offerings.”

She pulls me close to her as she says this, and squeezes my arm to show she’s joking.

“Well, I have to confess. I did have a bit of assistance. I mean, I did the cooking, apart from the cookies, but everything came from FraserFood.”

“In that case, give me those chocolates back. I’m no’ sure ye’ve earned them.”

“But I have,” I moan. “I did all the cooking…and made sangria.” I reach across Geillis and help myself to another biscuit. They are melt-in-the-mouth delicious.

“It’s part of a new range they’re launching,” I try to explain as Anna and Mary start to squabble over the last biscuit. “Three course dinner party boxes. Everything you need. Jamie asked if I would test one of them out—“

Immediately Anna and Mary shut up, the last biscuit now abandoned on the plate.

“Woo-hoo,” Anna grins at me.

Geillis nudges me in the ribs. “Jamie, is it? And what else has Jamie given ye, eh?”

“Nothing, we’re friends, that’s it.”

“But we’ve seen pictures of him. Don’t ye want there tae be more tae it? I mean, c’mon look at him.” Now Mary joins in the questioning.

I sigh. “We can just be friends, you know.”

“Friends with benefits, mebbe?” Geillis isn’t giving up.

“No, just friends. Although…” my friends lean forward expectantly, perhaps awaiting some heartfelt confession from me, as if I’d suddenly realised my undying love, or, at least, a good bit of lust for Mr. Fraser. They’re going to be disappointed.

“...Although, I suppose you could say this free food and drink is a benefit. So,yes, I guess that makes us friends with benefits.”

Anna and Geillis look as if they don’t believe me, but say nothing. Mary isn’t prepared to drop the subject.

“So,” she starts. “So, suppose I meet yer—“

“Not mine,” I mutter under my breath.

Mary shrugs her shoulders and continues, “—yer Jamie Fraser. And suppose he asks me out and one thing leads tae another… ye’re telling us that ye wouldna mind?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind. Might be a bit awkward if you break up. I mean, can I still be friends with both of you?”

Geillis, laughing, joins in now. “Suppose our Mary marries Jamie Fraser and asks ye tae be a bridesmaid. Would ye mind then?”

I pretend to give this some thought. “Ah, now that does depend. Just how awful will the bridesmaid dress be, Mary?”

“Och, just hideous. We’ll be having a Disney themed wedding.”

All talking and laughing at once, we try to decide which would be the worst Disney outfit for a bridesmaid and finally settle on Moana.

I get up from the table to go and make coffee, but not before making one final statement on the whole platonic situation with Jamie.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but I have no romantic interest in Jamie and neither does he. In fact, he told me that he’s got a date this weekend and that’s totally fine with me.”

Geillis grabs my hand in passing. “Ok, as long as ye’re fine. We jes’ dinna want ye getting hurt, Claire. We love ye too much fer that.”

I smile at my closest friends gathered around my table and feel a rush of warmth and love for them too. They’re my family, these girls, and, for all the joking and teasing, they have my best interests at heart.

“I know. Thank you for looking out for me. But, Jamie and I are friends, nothing more.”

And with that I head into the kitchen, giving Anna, Mary and Geillis, no doubt, the opportunity to continue to speculate about Jamie’s and my friendship. But really I don’t mind, they’ll get fed up soon enough when they see I’ve been telling the truth all along.

[freckledoriya]

“pass the stapler” (midoriya x reader)

PAIRING: izuku midoriya x reader  WARNINGS: none, just fluff!  WORD COUNT: 1.6k

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my first fic for @bnhabookclub​​‘s hero camp bingo event! my bingo masterlist will be posted soon and updated as I make my way through the spaces. thank you to @shoutosplaything​ and @crack-head-lia​ for last minute beta reading this! and as always, special thanks goes to @gallickingun​​ for being my rock and helping me with everything I do ♡

Your first day working at the hero agency was an eventful one-- work orientation, desk assignment, figuring out the coffee machine. The day would forever be known as the one where you started your dream job, but on top of that, it supplied another memory, one that will forever be ingrained in your mind: the moment when you laid eyes on Izuku Midoriya. None of the romantic comedies or cheesy romance novels could have prepared you for what you felt in that instance: the air being knocked out of you, the way everyone else in the room seemingly disappeared, and the undeniable feeling of a magnetic pull, urging you closer and closer to this stranger.

You felt like a teenager again, hopelessly in love with a person who barely knew you existed. The extent of your interactions with Midoriya was polite nods when you passed each other in the hallways, your heart had no business skipping a beat like it did every time those green eyes met yours. Still, you couldn’t help but swoon every time he’d sit at the table next to yours during lunch break. His presence was intoxicating. 

When he first spoke to you, you felt a high like never before. It was a Friday afternoon, another day that you’ll never be able to forget, when Midoriya asked you to pass the stapler. You kicked yourself for how unbelievably cheesy you felt about it, seeing it as a truly magical moment. It became a routine, you watching the news in your apartment late at night, looking to see if the number one hero, Deku, had beaten down another criminal. If he did, that meant he had paperwork to turn in the next day, and that meant that you’d get to hear those five beautiful words pass through his lips: “can you pass the stapler?”

You found him positively perfect. Even attributes that one could see as faults, like his incessant muttering, his stubbornness to put himself before others, his scarred skin that resulted from that very stubbornness- no matter which way you look at him, you adore Izuku. You often found yourself dreaming the day away, simply yearning to touch his freckled skin and feel his lips on yours. The way his knuckles brush against your finger tips when you pass the stapler to him was addicting. Even though he wasn’t using his quirk, you swore you could feel electricity jolt from him to you.

This routine went on for a few months, and you had begun to accept that passing office supplies to one another would be the extent of your relationship with Midoriya. However, today, he came up to your desk, looking as dashing, yet nervous, as ever.

“H-hey, there, I have something to ask you…”

You reflexively reach towards the stapler on your desk, but he quickly interrupts you.

“Ah, no, I don’t need the stapler right now. But thank you.”

“Oh,” you reply. “Then… what can I help you with?” 

You swear you can feel your heart beating out your chest. Because if he doesn’t want the stapler, what else could he possibly want?

Midoriya clears his throat and swallows, looking down at his scarred, calloused hands as he twiddles his thumbs. “W-would you wanna go out? W-with me? On a, um.. date?”

“Yes!” you reply, the word almost exploding from inside you. 

Realizing how loud and slightly desperate you must have just sounded, your eyes widen with embarrassment as you begin to wheel yourself back from your desk, as if cowering away from the situation at hand.

 “I mean, sure, if that’s what you want…” you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Did you have anywhere in mind?” 

Midoriya bites his lip and looks to the side. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You let out a giggle at his adorable bashfulness, releasing some of the pent of nerves inside of you. How he hasn’t realized that he’s the whole package is beyond you. In your eyes, he’s everything a person could ever want: kind, compassionate, selfless, and attractive as hell. 

“We could go to the park nearby?” you suggest. “Hang out, walk around, and talk?”

He stops his muttering of possible date ideas to smile, definitely relieved that the responsibility of choosing was lifted off of his shoulders. 

“That sounds great! Let’s do it.”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, really just wanting to make sure you weren’t making this whole scenario up in your mind. “Saturday afternoon work?”

“Yeah! Looking forward to it.”

A beat passes between the two of you before Izuku shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “I, uh, actually do need to borrow the stapler as well.”

__________________________________________________________________

You’ve been on plenty of first dates before. You’ve gotten used to the slight jitters, the twisting of your stomach. But this was different. Your insides felt as if you were full of bubbles, bursting in anticipation and making you lightheaded. You attempt to regulate your breathing as you arrive at the park for your date. The air is cool as it blows against your flushed cheeks, already burning as you think about spending time with Izuku.

You’ve played out every possible scenario in your mind, creating an extensive list of conversation starters just in case there’s a lull in dialogue. As you’re going over your do-not-talk-about-topics in your head, you spot the green-haired hero sitting on a blanket at the top of a grassy hill. A classic wicker basket sits next to him, and your heart soars once you realize what Izuku has in store for you: a picnic.

As you walk up to him, he quickly stands up, greeting you with his signature bright smile. You can’t help but admire him in his more casual wear: jeans, a simple, loose-fitting t-shirt, and his classic red high-tops. 

“H-hey!” he greets you. “Hope this is okay, but I thought we could have a small picnic? I know it’s a little random but-”

“It’s wonderful,” you interrupt, looking at the setup. 

You have to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming-- in what universe would you be presented with a perfect, park picnic date from the biggest crush you’ve ever had? 

“Crunchy peanut butter with strawberry jam,” Izuku blurts out, snapping you out of your trance. 

You look at him with confusion as he begins to open the basket and gestures toward the two sandwiches in plastic bags. 

He begins to blush as he hands you your sandwich. “Um, I noticed that you always bring a PB&J to lunch at work. And I overheard you one day talking about why crunchy peanut butter and strawberry jam make the perfect sandwich…”

“They do!” you laugh as you begin to unwrap the sandwich. “It’s just science”

He laughs along with you, and the sound of his laughter gives you the same warm feeling as listening to your favorite song or drinking hot cocoa on a cold, winter’s day. It feels like coming home after a long trip. It feels right.

You spend the next couple hours eating and discussing each other’s passions: you learn about Midoriya’s unwavering adoration for All Might (which you had already known about, from studying your crush’s socials) and the unbelievable amount of pressure he puts on himself to be what others expect him to be.

“I just have to keep being better,” he says to you before taking a sip of water. “It’s what I owe to everyone who’s helped me get this far.” 

You tilt your head to the side, hoping it’ll somehow let you see things from his perspective. “That seems like a lot of pressure to put on yourself. Maybe those people didn’t help with an expectation for something in return… Maybe they helped because it’s what you deserve.” 

He looks to the side and bites his lip, shying away from opening up to you. You take a breath before reaching over and putting your hand on his. This skin contact feels somehow different than the hand-brushes from the past when you would pass the stapler. There is no shock of electricity, no jolt of energy. Instead, you feel more at peace than you ever did before. The world feels more at peace. You feel like as long as your hand is holding his, nothing could ever throw you off balance. 

This gesture causes Midoriya to stiffen before meeting your gaze. When he sees your gentle and understanding smile, his shoulders relax and he lets out a breath that he was inadvertently holding. 

“You know, I-I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now,” Izuku blushes as he rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“R-really?” you stutter, taken aback by this confession. Could it really be that he’s been admiring you as much as you’ve been admiring him?

“Yeah…”  he looks down and swallows. Sensing that he’s building up the courage to tell you something important, you try to give him a reassuring squeeze of his hand. 

What could he be gathering up the bravery to say? Was he about to confess his feelings for you? Maybe he really does like you just as much as you like him. Or maybe it’s something much more unfortunate. Maybe he’s changed his mind after spending the afternoon with you. Maybe he-

“It’s just that I wasted so many blank pieces of paper by stapling them together so I could talk to you...”  

The two of you break into laughter as the sun begins to set, the purple and pink hues matching the blush across both of your faces as you both realize that yes, you adore the other just as much as they adore you. 

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Wasting Time | Diego Hargreeves

✦ pairing — Diego Hargreeves x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 4.1k

✦ summary— you’re an anti-love loner who somehow managed to get matched to someone by an enthusiastic and friendly pro-love super person.

✦ warnings — some angst, I think this has some comedy, probably language, Asha (OC) is a sweetheart and I would die for her, fluff.

✦ a/n — this is a repost due to tagging issues from a week-ish ago

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Your mom left the restaurant in a hurry. She had a friend to meet up with, she reminded you a few times throughout the meal as she complained about your lack of romantic partner and friends.

Romance wasn’t for you. It didn’t even make sense. There wasn’t much to it, you had never seen it end well.

As for friendships, you had never been good at bonding with people. Back in college, you had hollow acquaintanceships at best, transactional relationships like most tended to be.

You were supposed to meet up with your mom to catch up after a couple of busy weeks, but you had sadly forgotten how intense she got with the topic of love.

She acted like you would never be happy on your own. Perhaps there was some truth in there, but if there was, she would have to take responsibility because she was complicit.

A random person tapped your shoulder. Craning your neck to the side to acknowledge them, you waited for them to say whatever it was they needed from you.

“Hi! I’m Asha!”

“I’m not interested,” you breathed out, looking past her to ask for the check.

Asha sat down in front of you. “I know you think love is a waste of time, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last, but all of you are wrong.”

You were sure Asha’s intentions were pure, but you didn’t need to hear fairytale-like arguments for love. And you definitely didn’t feel comfortable around eavesdroppers.

She followed you to the parking lot, spewing things about how beautiful romance was. Nothing you hadn’t heard before in songs and films. Which meant everything she was saying was bullshit.

Pulling the door of your car open, you snapped at her, “Could you please leave me alone?!”

You wished it had worked. She started following you throughout the day, smiling at you and asking you if you had changed your mind.

Surrounded by sweet smell and beautiful colors, you walked through the farmers market. You didn’t even understand how had she been able to follow you by foot when you were driving, but you wouldn’t let her ruin this.

“Strawberries are aphrodisiacs.”

“They taste good in smoothies,” you countered, paying for the berries and nodding as a thank you to the vendor.

Someone grabbed Asha by the arm. “What do you think you are doing?”

Asha gasped, smiling brightly. “Diego! This is perfect.”

A sharp sting went through your arm. You had always attracted mosquitoes, but their bites had never made you feel weird.

And boy, did you feel weird. The urge to hug the man in front of you overcame you, and as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, he opened his arms for you.

“He’s cuddly, right?” Asha’s sweet tone filled your ears.

Well, yes. His shirt was soft and he smelled good, extremely good — holy shit, why couldn’t other men smell like him?

“Your hair smells so good,” he blurted.

What a nice voice! His words and tone gave you goosebumps. Your stomach flipped as his arms tightened around your waist, prompting you to take a better whiff of his cologne.

You hoped he would never let go of you. It was hot outside yet you needed his warmth like you needed air.

Wait, what?

You pulled away from him, trying to find an excuse as to why you had hugged a stranger.

And why had you liked it?

Asha grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his. “This is Diego,” she introduced him to you, “he’s meant to be your romantic partner for life.”

Diego sighed, withdrawing his hand. “What have I told you about doing this?!”

“She wasn’t joking?” You asked, eyes going back and forth between the two.

He shook his head. “Have you heard of The Umbrella Academy?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Yeah. All of you are superheroes.”

“Her powers are like Cupid’s.”

“Cupid’s behavior was childish at first,” Asha defended herself. “Mine isn’t.”

You waited for the punchline of the joke. It never came. He was 100% serious and you were bound to him now.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to get to know each other!”

Her words hit you instantly. “We don’t know each other,” you exclaimed, “I’m sure we won’t miss the other or anything...”

“We can just avoid each other!” Diego completed your thought, nodding along. “Perfect. I’m sorry for my sister.”

You swatted a hand. “No biggie.”

Oh, how wrong you had been. You spent your entire afternoon eating strawberries and watching tv, wondering what Diego was doing.

The subsequent days weren’t too different. Not from the strawberry part, you ran out of those too quickly.

You had many questions, less about the bond or whatever it was called and more about him. What he liked and disliked, why he did so...

It was stupid and pointless.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You stretched, whining. You couldn’t sleep, no matter which position you tried or what remedy from the Internet you put to the test.

A knock was bestowed upon the door. You whined again, throwing your sleep mask onto the bed and reaching for your pajama pants.

You turned the lights on as you crossed the apartment on your way towards the door. Noisily, you unlocked it.

Diego waved at you, trying to smile. He had a busted lip that was bleeding just like his eyebrow.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I— I d—don’t...”

You frowned, grabbing him by the front of his vest to pull him into the apartment. Closing the door, you softly asked, “Do you need water?”

Diego shook his head, lifting his hands for you to give him a moment. You extended an arm, inviting him to take a seat in the living room.

Observing how swollen his face was, you walked toward the kitchen and looked for something to put on the area.

Fuck, you should’ve saved that ice just in case. Oh, well, a pack of frozen cauliflower and broccoli would do.

You pressed the cold bag on his cheek, waiting for him to hold it to let go of it. He grunted a thank you.

“Did your vigilante thing go wrong?”

Diego moved the bag for a moment to speak properly. “I felt like shit and needed to see you. I feel better now.”

“Yeah, that’s called codependency.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

You sighed, throwing your head back to rest it against the wall. “I am not blaming you.”

”You’re taking this too calmly. How?”

“I’m used to being by myself all the time, it looks like you are not.”

“You don’t feel like you can’t breathe without me?”

“No.” His disappointed look was the worst thing you had ever been forced to see in your life. The pang in your chest stopped when you told him, “I feel better when I see you, though. Less anxious.”

“Why do you think it is?”

You shrugged. “Maybe love doesn’t feel the same for everyone. Or whatever Asha did to us.”

His heart skipped a beat. “That sounds nice. Us.”

“Are you going soft on me?”

Diego pursed his lips together, glaring at you. He immediately hissed.

You took the bag off his hand and put it back into the freezer. Exchanging the pack for a ziplock bag with pineapple, you carefully rested it on his jaw, making sure it touched his lip too.

“Baby...”

“Don’t,” you warned him, ignoring the thrill down your spine upon hearing the pet name.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Every night you waited for him to knock upon your door, and although he didn’t do it every day of the week, you always opened.

He had hugged you once or twice in greeting. Much to your dismay, it had felt nice.

This specific time he hugged you tighter, holding you for as long as you allowed him to. It saddened you, knowing this was the highlight of his day. And yours.

Before meeting him, you went to bed early and woke up at dawn. Now you happily skipped sleep to hang out with him.

Diego was nice when he wasn’t being overbearing, funny even. But you would never tell him that.

“Can’t you make your sister undo it?” You asked, opening a bottle of beer for him. His favorite brand, which you had started buying after he brought a pack a few weeks ago.

He took a swig of beer. “It can’t be undone, that’s the point.”

“I won’t feel cheated on if you find someone else,” you assured him.

“But I want you!”

“Diego, I’m not made for this, okay? It doesn’t matter if I want it or not.”

“I have the worst fucking luck in the world,” he lamented, gulping down half of his beverage. “My girlfriends either die, try to kill me and my family, or hate me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the only boyfriend I’ve had got married to the cousin I hate the most.”

“He’s a dick. I’m hotter than him.”

Well, you weren’t going to deny that. Pouring yourself some wine, you lifted the glass to clink it with his bottle of beer.

“Is he the reason why you hate love?”

Putting the glass down after taking a gulp, you shook your head. “Not really. He was more like... the confirmation? I always thought it was a waste of time, and too absurd, and corny — but everyone I knew had a partner and I didn’t want to be left out. When he dumped me for my cousin and married her, I was proven right.”

“Well, duh.” Diego rolled his eyes playfully. “You didn’t date someone you liked.”

“I’ve never liked someone.”

“I’m offended.”

“Willingly, smartass.”

He pointed with his bottle. “What about your mom?”

“I tolerate her.”

“Dad?”

“Would kill him if I could get away with it.”

“Siblings?”

“I hate my stepbrother.”

“Asha?” He teased.

You confessed. “Oh, well, she’s nice. She means well, at least.”

“What about me?” He insisted.

Shrugging, you refilled your glass. “You’re not bad when you’re talking casually.”

“Is this about my stutter?”

“Of course not, I’m not an asshole. I just hate it when you talk about me like you need me to survive when you clearly don’t.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Closest thing you’ll get me to give you one.”

Giving you a cocky smile, he moved to sit down beside you on the floor. ”You didn’t deny it, you know?“

“Didn’t deny what?”

“That you’re my girlfriend.”

You shoved him playfully, shaking your head as you tried not to laugh. “Will you ever give up?”

“Realistically?”

Both of you chorused, “No.”

“Exactly.”

It was fabricated infatuation. He wanted an idealized version of you, like everyone did when they had crushes only to find out everything they like about their significant other or love interest is a lie made up by their own brains.

Leaving the glass to the side, you drank straight from the bottle. “Would you like me even if Asha hadn’t...”

“Yes.”

You chuckled incredulously, “Why?”

“You’re smart, responsible, really pretty — and believe or not, you’re nice.”

You cupped his cheek, blinking rapidly. His skin was soft to the touch, a little warm too. Diego leaned forward, holding your chin between his index and thumb. His lips were so close, you could practically feel his bottom lip on your upper lip.

Fully realizing what was going on as your eyes threatened to lie closed, you turned your head to the side. Your hand fell to his shoulder, middle finger grazing his neck.

“Stop leading me on!”

“I can’t help it!”

“Just give in,” he whispered on your cheek. “I won’t break your heart.”

“I will break yours.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You just complained because I lead you on.”

“And you said it wasn’t on purpose. People make mistakes in stressful situations.”

You shook your head, completely moving away from his touch as you stood up. “Feel free to crash on the couch for the night.”

Diego didn’t say anything, but you heard him leave minutes later from your bedroom.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Asha had insisted on befriending you. She wasn’t bad company — although too bubbly and jumpy from what you were used to, she was willing to tone it down for you.

As bad as it sounded, she also served as a distraction. And who were you kidding? It was nice to have a friend.

You waited for her to finish her ice cream cone to speak, mostly because you were scared she would stamp it on your face.

“Would you find a way to undo it if I admit to having understood the importance of love?”

Asha smiled, playing with her hands on her lap, on top of the yellow skirt you had suggested would fit her perfectly. “Why would I undo it if you understand that now?”

Focusing your eyes on the dogs playing on the grass, you admitted, “I don’t like it, I feel weak. And having someone only care about me because of your influence doesn’t help.”

“I can’t match people who are incompatible.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? That Diego and I are meant to be together because of some sort of fate?”

She giggled. “No, you just fit well together. But maybe you want it to be different...”

“I just want to have control over this, Asha! I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Why?” She tilted her head as she asked. It was like the idea was foreign to her.

“Because I miss him!” Your voice lowered then, “And I know he misses me too. He has to whether he likes it or not.”

“But you want him to do it on his own.”

You nodded, ashamed, as you felt her bright eyes on the side of your face.

“I don’t influence or manipulate what people think or feel, (Name),” she explained, resting a warm hand on your thigh in attempts to comfort you. “I only match people who will feel things similarly. That’s the gift I’ve given you and Diego, I’m sorry you haven’t been able to see it like that.”

That wasn’t comforting at all. Not now. If she had said it earlier... meh, it wouldn’t have worked. She knew you well, it seemed.

Turns out you weren’t as closed off as you liked to think.

Asha grabbed your hand, standing up as she looked at you with those big eyes of hers. They shone with determination, and for the first time since you befriended her, you felt a little scared of what she would do.

But you trusted her. Standing up, you made sure your cellphone was in your pocket and allowed her to drag you wherever she wanted to take you.

Asha made a few stops. You saw her use her powers on two gals who were clearly on a friend-date at a restaurant. According to Asha, they both were scared of telling the other how they felt. Childhood friends, she explained.

The other stop was at a coffee shop where she ordered one of those extremely sweet frappes. She made you taste it, and although you weren’t a fan and would never order something like that, you had to admit you were starting to see the appeal.

But the third stop... oh, boy, that one was unexpected. You stared up at the gymnasium’s sign, confused and a little bit offended.

“Are you implying I should start working out?”

Asha snickered. “I’m strongly suggesting you should talk to Diego.”

Right, he worked at a gym — how could you have forgotten? Scratch the unexpected part, this was the most Asha thing ever.

The place was busy with people from all genders, some of them were taking laps and others were training on the rings.

“Okay, (Name),” you whispered to yourself, “you can do this. How hard can it be?”

Too hard. The closer you got to where he was standing, the hardest you found it. Embarrassing yourself had never been something you had been through, ignoring people for decades had given you a lot of advantages and that had been your personal favorite.

You turned on your heels, determined to leave and never come back. This was such a bad idea! You were in his territory, vulnerable, and only accompanied by his sister who would probably be on his side.

“Can I help you?”

You jumped, immediately turning around. Fuck. Your throat locked up. Diego nodded upward, encouraging you to speak. He looked good, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tank top — all black as he usually did.

You couldn’t look at him in the eyes as you examined the place, looking for Asha. It didn’t look like a place where she would enjoy herself, but no one ever knew with her; she was full of surprises.

“She left already,” Diego deadpanned.

Your mouth hung open. You weren’t really surprised, but words weren’t willing to come out. This was the first time you had tried to articulate a meaningful apology.

The fake ones were so easy! You were even able to get poetic with those, making promises you didn’t intend to keep to people you weren’t going to see ever again because there had never been a reason to stay.

“You didn’t go to the market yesterday.” He tried to say it casually.

“I went to visit my mom.”

“Oh, I see tolerance is going well.”

You huffed a laugh. “Something like that. Not much luck with my stepbrother yet, though.”

“At least you’re trying.”

“I should be more open, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

You allowed silence to settle. You needed it to, it had been your best friend for so long that you didn’t know how to cope without its looming presence.

You were nervous, this was your only chance to apologize. What if he didn’t accept the apology?

“I’m sorry, Diego,” you mumbled, “I didn’t want things to go this way.”

“You didn’t want things to go at all.”

“Why would I?” You didn’t want to fight him, but you were desperate for him to see things from your perspective.

“There are a lot of reasons. I don’t think people can be happy completely alone.”

“Okay, you’re right, but you wanted me to jump into something more. Such a big leap when I’ve been living and doing most things on my own since I was 19 is scary.”

“Want,” he corrected you.

You both stood with your backs against the wall, watching the people training as they threw punches. He crossed his arms, focused on the youngest of the trainees.

You turned to look at him. “I know Asha can’t undo the bond, but you don’t need this type of connection to date someone.”

“Maybe that’s why it never worked.” Diego shrugged, sticking his bottom lip out. “I like how this feels. He added, “When you’re not turning me down.”

“So never?” you joked.

Diego chuckled, eyes still on the young trainee. He looked like a teen, no older than 15. “When we talk like this. Or when you empty your freezer to treat my swollen face...”

“Oh, so you only like me for my frozen veggies.”

“God, I wish.” Diego placed his hand on your shoulder, “Give me a moment. Don’t go!”

Nodding, you watched him approach the teen. They exchanged a few words — well, Diego seemed to be questioning the poor boy who only gave short verbal answers or moved his head to reply.

Diego threw his arm around the teen, pulling him close into a half-hug. Both got closer to you as Diego guided the teen towards the exit, still chatting.

“Thank you, Diego,” the teen said with a nod as Diego withdrew his arm from his shoulders. “Good night, Ms,” he acknowledged you.

“Good night,” you answered politely.

Diego smiled, huffing through his nose.

“Has he been training here for a while?” you asked once the young trainee had left.

Standing closer to you now, he told you more about the teen, “Brandon started last month. He’s a good kid. Stubborn, but his heart is in the right place.”

“Like you?”

Diego lifted his eyebrows, unable to hide his smile. “Did you just compliment me?”

“What would you do if I said yes?”

“You won’t like my answer.”

You bit your bottom lip. “Try me.”

He freed your lip from your teeth with his thumb, caressing it. “Don’t tempt me, baby.”

Your face heated up. God, the things Diego was doing to you...

Grinning, he bopped your nose. “You are adorable.”

“I am not trying to be adorable,” you said, scrunching your nose.

“That’s part of the charm.” He looked up, checking the time on the clock above you. “I’m technically free in less than an hour.”

“Don’t you have other things to do?”

Diego wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Rolling your eyes, you hit him on the shoulder with your fist. “The other things!”

“Oh, yeah.” He rubbed his shoulder even though you hadn’t hit him hard. “I can do them even later.”

“We can talk even later,” you tried to reason with him.

He tutted. “I know you, and you’ll find an excuse.”

You didn’t understand what Diego had done to you, or how Asha’s powers really worked, but you were willing to compromise, to show him you wanted to talk to him and fix things.

So accompanied by a sigh, you made a gesture with your hands, indicating that you would wait for him to be done.

You had never been so eager to spend time with someone, not even as a child when your neighbor would come over for a play date.

Diego casually offered his hand to you, patiently waiting for you to either take it or reject him.

Unsure, you inched your hand closer to his. He gazed down, taking the trajectory of your hand in. Sighing contently when your palm finally rested against his, he wiggled your fingers open.

His fingers fit between yours perfectly, his palm was warm and calloused, slightly scarred. Suddenly Asha’s judgment didn’t sound too bad.

Swinging your clasped hands, Diego asked more about what you had done the past week. You kept to yourself the part about missing him, but shared everything else — including that horrible fight with your dad, and the movie Asha made you see at a midnight screening.

He told you about his apartment-hunting journey and how tedious it was. You recalled his offhand comment about wanting to move out of the boiler room, so you kept to yourself the fact that he would need another job to be able to afford it.

Ruining the night was the last thing you wanted to do.

Dropping the keys onto the coffee table, you walked directly into the kitchen. He followed you, turning the lights on.

Diego opened your fridge to take a drink out and chuckled happily. “Aww, you bought my favorite beer even though we were mad at each other.”

You stood behind him, reaching for the jug of water as you corrected him, “I wasn’t mad.”

“Well, I was.”

“Not anymore?”

“Nope.”

You smiled to yourself, pouring water into a glass. He grabbed the jug from your grasp, storing it in the fridge for you.

Mirroring your smile —outshining it in your opinion— he said, “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re flirty today.”

“I wasn’t flirting.” Diego feigned offense.

Frowning, you picked your glass and took a gulp of water. Asha tired you out earlier by dragging you all over town, but compared with how disappointing hearing him say that was, the tiredness was fine.

Placing the bottle on the counter, he clarified, “I meant that I was only stating the obvious.”

You put the glass down. “I am not used to this, sorry.”

He rested his hands on your arms. “It’s okay. I just want to know something...”

You hummed. “Anything.”

“What made you change your mind?”

You fiddled with the unbuttoned shirt he had thrown on top of his tank top. “I can’t sleep when you don’t visit.”

“That can’t be it.”

You conceded, “It’s not everything, but it sums it all up.”

“How slow do you want to go?”

You shrugged. “Do I look like I have a clue?”

“No,” he laughed. Diego inched a hand up to your neck, thumb rubbing your cheek. “Can I kiss you? I promise you can push me off you whenever you want, I won’t get mad.”

“Okay.”

Softly, he pressed his lips against yours. The slow kiss was a nice change from what you had experienced in the past, Diego wasn’t kissing you to get something more out of you or to forget about somebody else — Diego was kissing you because he wanted to do it, because he wanted you.

You pulled him closer, gripping the collar of his shirt. He smiled into the kiss, dropping his other hand to your waist.

Having Diego this close was everything but a waste of time, you decided, kissing him harder as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

[authenticcadence18]

For the sending you a character thing could you maybe do Candace Flynn please? :)

Hi anon! And of COURSE!!

Favorite thing about them: I love how relatable she is! Candace being overwhelmed with life and feeling stuck/discouraged and frustrated is just, a big ‘ol mood, especially as I’ve gotten older. “The Universe is Against Me” is very therapeutic to sing for those reasons! I also love the moments when she is genuinely a kind older sister, like in “Dude We’re Getting the Band Back Together” or the end of “Summer Belongs To You.” I also love her friendship with Isabella (especially in the later seasons), it’s just really sweet! Candace helping Isabella out with her crush on Phineas (or just reacting to it in a deadpan way) is so so soooo so great! (Basically big sister Candace. Yes.) Candace is also just, SO FUNNY. Both with her dialogue and physical comedy. She’s a great character. (On a personal note, I also relate to her struggle with not wanting to drive right away! I was the same way, and thinking about Candace made me feel better about my own struggles!) Also her SINGING. YES. I love Ashley Tisdale. ...Ok, now that I’ve said lots of nice things about Candace...onto the next question😅

least favorite thing about them: sometimes Candace is just, very unkind. Like, I KNOW she has her own struggles and I’d never want to invalidate those.....but she is just so MEAN to Phineas and Ferb sometimes for no real reason (particularly in earlier episodes). Like, in the Christmas special for instance, she continuously laughs off Phineas and Ferb’s desire to write letters to Santa (but then USES this idea in a scheme to figure out what gift Jeremy wants, so it’s hypocritical on her part) (EDIT: i wouldn’t change the “letters to Santa??” bit, btw, it’s pretty funny!! but it illustrates my point) and THEN puts the thought in Phineas’s head that he might be the reason all of Danville was deemed naughty, which DEVASTATES him. I think the saddest part is that, 95% of the time, Phineas and Ferb are nothing but kind to her. It makes her occasional spitefulness towards them seem so JARRING. (And again I KNOW she struggles with her own issues and feeling inferior, CATU especially made that apparent, and I get it! But that doesn’t make it okay for her to be mean to her brothers, you know?). Also scenes where she says something nice to Jeremy and then rude to her brothers...idk, it just rubs me the wrong way. (I also dislike it STRONGLY when she is condescending to Isabella. I think this only happens, like, twice...but Isabella is my fave so I’ll never forget, LOL)

Favorite line: oh MAN how do I CHOOSE??? She’s got so many iconic lines. Maybeeee: “It’s SO not fair! I mean why am I still on sock detail when Gladys from accounting got promoted to commander and she doesn’t even know hold to hold a blaster!!! No I mean, really, she failed that part of the exam three times, she held it backwards AND upside down but she’s a second cousin to some mid-level darth and so SHE gets the promotion?? What about ME??? If they would just open their eyes, they’d see that I’ve got everything it takes, I COULD BE THE STORMIEST STORM TROOPER EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!” Oh i also like (in reference to lumpy tables) “it’s the new hip-thing, it’s so European!!!” And also “Though I’ve often thought of you as just a nuisance and a bother, today I can’t imagine havin’ better little brothers!”

BrOTP: Candace and Stacy, 100%!! I love them and their friendship SO much, it really feels genuine (especially as their characters develop more). Their subplot in “Canderemy” is one of my favorite Candace plot lines in the show, it’s so funny and so sweet at the end (and a welcome distraction from a certain OTHER subplot in that episode.....yes I’m still mad about the ending🙃)

OTP: CANDEREMY! I’ll be honest, when I was younger, Canderemy kind of annoyed me because Phinabella was my fave and I always got mad when Candace had better luck with love than Isabella (because Candace was mean and Isabella wasn’t and I identified with Isabella and like, I’m just trying to give y’all a picture of younger me😂). But now that Phinabella is canon and I’ve gotten older, I really, REALLY appreciate Candace and Jeremy. Candace doesn’t have to act a certain way for Jeremy to like her: he likes her just the way she is and actively DISCOURAGES her from changing her identity just to appeal to him more. That’s so refreshing and wonderful to see in media aimed at kids/teens. I love that, for the majority of the show, they’re either “talking” or in a relationship and it’s just, a healthy relationship! No multi-episode arcs about them breaking up, no love triangles, no petty arguments (sometimes the show leans into these tropes for an episode, but that’s it. And it’s always resolved). They genuinely care about one another, and I think it’s really sweet. (Plus a Canderemy wedding is RIFE with possibility for pre-relationship Phinabella moments👀)

nOTP: I don’t have any specific nOTPS for Candace, so I’ll just say I’m fine with any ship between her and someone her age (that she isn’t related to, obviously. AND THAT GOES FOR ALL MY SHIPS. I don’t want to say that on every one of these character posts so like, just know. That is where i stand.)

Random headcanon: Candace and Jeremy adopted Fred. I just think it’s a sweet headcanon 🥺. Alsooooo ok this doesn’t specifically revolve around Candace, but when she and Jeremy got married, Isabella and Phineas were both a part of the wedding party and Candace made SURE they were paired together to walk down the isle💕. And Candace continues collecting Ducky Momo memerobilia well into adulthood!

Unpopular opinion: Candace isn’t a terrible, irredeemable character.....but she’s not a purely amazing character who can do no wrong either. I feel like some fans either despise her fully or love everything about her. I’m in the middle. I see her as a flawed character who was written by numerous people and thus is somewhat inconsistent in her characterization. I like it when she is characterized as kindhearted but easily overwhelmed and longing for validation, so that is how I choose to portray her in my own writing/headcanons.

Song I associate with them: look Candace sings so many FANTASTIC songs in the show that I can’t associate her with any other music. Like I guess Ashley Tisdale’s “Kiss the Girl” because there’s fics of her singing that to Phineas and Isabella and I think that’s adorable? (I know I wrote one of those waaaaaaay back in the day, LOL). But in general, every Candace song is great. “The Universe is Against Me” ESPECIALLY.

favorite picture of them: you know what Y’ALL GET FOUR PICTURES BECAUSE BIG SISTER CANDACE IS THE BEST OK

Thank you so much, anon! As you can see, I’ve got quite a few thoughts on Candace😅. At the end of the day, I think she’s a great character and I relate to her a lot! I had a ton of fun writing all these answers out.

This is the last ask I’m going to answer tonight, but I’m looking forward to answering more tomorrow!!!! 😁

[adenei]

Always A Bridesmaid, Never A Bride - Chapter 6

AO3 || FFN

Hermione

It was official. I’d agree to anything if it meant I had a chance to spend time with Harry outside of work. I knew it was a problem, and it was blatantly clear when Jenny called me in a rush this morning. She thought she’d scheduled an appointment to set up her registry at John Lewis  for Monday, but her days had gotten mixed up and she took the only open slot for Sunday. 

Of course, I knew she’d already booked herself at the bridal salon and florist, and couldn’t fit it in as she was explaining her mix-up. I was going to suggest she reschedule, but then I heard her mutter about sending someone else, and thinking she was going to send Harry, I offered to go, too. So, despite telling myself numerous times to just call her and cancel, I still forged ahead, even though I knew my ulterior motive was despicable.

Jenny had slipped her list of items under my door while I was in the shower. I thought it was odd if she was sending Harry, but then maybe she didn’t have time to stop by his place before her first appointment.

I took the list and caught a taxi to take me to the department store in the city. My phone buzzed and I checked it to see I had a text from Jenny. Your reinforcement should be there soon. Thanks so much for doing this again! I decided to go in and get started at the registry desk since I knew the set-up process would take a while. Finally, after I finished the paperwork, I was ready to begin. 

“So, here’s the scanner!” the clerk said. “This is all you’ll need to choose the items that you’d like. Once you hear the beep, you’ll know it’s been added. If you scan something by mistake, just scan it again to take it off. I’ll be here if you need anything, and if not, just drop the scanner off before you leave.”

“Thank you,” I said as I pulled the list out from my bag and determined where I should start first. 

I was paying so much attention to the list, I didn’t notice someone joining me. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” I looked up to see Ron standing next to me.

“Jenny sent you?” I asked. Surely, this was a joke.

“Are you surprised?” Ron asked me innocently.

“Yes, actually, I am. What writer helps with menial wedding tasks like this?”

“When I cover a wedding, I cover the whole wedding,” he explained as I shook my head. “So, where should we get started?”

“Probably housewares,” I said with a sigh.

I handed Ron the list to check things off as we scanned them. If he was here, I was going to make sure he was helpful. Maybe it’d make the job go by faster.

“Who needs all this useless junk, anyways?” he asked as I scanned a beautiful set of ivory candlestick holders. “Don’t they both have separate flats already? Surely, they have enough stuff between the two of them to outfit one apartment.”

I rolled my eyes in his direction. “When you’re starting a life with someone, you want to pick out items for the home you’re going to share together. You know, to make it both of yours instead of a mix of two people’s things,” I explained.

“So you’re telling me if you were to get engaged, you’d chuck all of your current stuff just to ask for new versions of the same stuff because you’re marrying someone else?”

“Well...not everything, but I’ve been inside Jenny’s apartment and it’s rather bare in there.”

“What about Harry’s stuff?”

“It’s okay, but he is a bachelor. He only has half the stuff he does because of Teddy,” I said.

“Harry has a kid?” Ron asked, his eyes wide.

I chuckled. “Not exactly. Teddy’s an orphan that’s part of the Boys & Girls Club. Harry’s his big brother. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if he really does try to adopt Teddy after he and Jenny are married.”

“And how does Jenny feel about that?”

“Why do you care so much?” I gave him an odd look. 

“N-no reason. It’s just an interesting dynamic, that’s all.”

“Well, when we went to Teddy’s football game, Jenny seemed really taken with him. She’s surprisingly good with kids,” I mentioned offhand.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked curiously.

“Oh, um, I suppose she probably has several nieces and nephews if four of her brothers are married.”

“Ah. Well, that’s good, then. I’m sure they’ll make a beautiful family,” Ron said. 

“Yeah,” I said distantly. It was hard not to think about it, even though I really didn’t want to. 

Ron was looking at me curiously. “You know what I think you want?”

“What? Please bestow your infinite wisdom about me, a person you barely know, to me,” I scoffed.

“I think you do all this because you just want a wedding for yourself. Not an actual marriage, but a wedding.”

I stared incredulously at him. “How can you even say that? You don’t know me! Of course I want a marriage! Who wouldn’t want someone to spend the rest of their life with?”

“Well then why aren’t you looking harder for your ‘one true love’?” he said in air quotes. “You spend all your extra time helping brides and attending weddings, and it seems like you barely date.”

“I do too date!” I retorted.

“Yeah? When’s the last time you dated someone? I don’t count,” he said pompously.

“What do you mean you don’t count? Of course you don’t!” I argued.

“Oh, you wound me,” Ron said, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Are you going to answer the question?”

I stopped to think about it. Was it bad that I really couldn’t remember. Ron took advantage of my distraction to steal the scanner from me and started scanning random trinkets.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I tried to take the scanner back. 

He used his height to an advantage to block me. “Oh, come on, it’s all in good fun. Every couple deserves some random trinkets that they open and have to fake a smile for, don’t you think?”

There was a mischievous glint in his eye that made me laugh even though I should be scolding him. I was still mad at him for his accusations, but I was willing to play along so I didn’t have to answer the dating question.

“Is that what you think?” I said with a smile. “You’d want to open random gifts you didn’t ask for because someone thought it would be funny to play a joke on your registry?”

“It’s never going to happen for me, so it doesn’t matter what I’d do, now would it?”

Ron was smiling, but it wasn’t reaching his eyes. I stopped to contemplate his words for a moment. “Something must have happened to make you resent love so much. So, what is it?” 

I snagged the list from his hand to see how we were doing as I began walking again. We needed to get to the linen section next. Ron still hadn’t answered me, so I decided to push his buttons a bit.

“Did your parents get divorced? An ex-girlfriend cheat on you with your best friend like in those cheesy romantic comedies? Or, were you left at the altar or something tragic like that?” 

“Yeah, actually.”

I froze. I wasn’t really serious. I turned around to look at him. “What?”

“I was engaged a few years ago, but about two weeks before the wedding she called it off. Apparently she was more interested in my brother instead, and only realized it when she came home to meet the whole family.”

“Oh, my God, Ron, I’m sorry. It was—I didn’t mean it,” I apologized. That was awful and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“It’s fine. I was too blinded by love to see that we weren’t a good fit anyways. My brother saw right through her shallowness and told her to fuck off. So, I guess there was a silver lining.”

I handed him the scanner. “Scan all the ugly things you want. I’ll feign ignorance as long as all the stuff on this list gets added.”

He let out a weak laugh. “Thanks.”

“Are you close with your brother, then?” We hadn’t discussed anything personal yet, aside from my involvement in weddings, but I found myself wanting to learn more about him.

“As close as we can be. He lives in Africa on a wild nature preserve.”

“And your ex was more interested in a—”

“Zoologist? Apparently. Guess my career as a writer wasn’t adventurous enough for her. Or it didn’t make enough money for her lifestyle.”

“If she’s more interested in money than love, you’re better off. You’ll find the one someday, I’m sure.”

“So will you...maybe,” he smirked.

“Good to see you being so supportive,” I said sarcastically. 

Just like that, the moment had passed. Maybe I’d been a little too quick to judge Ron without knowing his backstory. First impressions were typically a good indication of a person for me, but now I was starting to think that maybe I’d misjudged him. Even though he reverted right back to his sarcastic ways, I was fairly certain that it was all a cover. I couldn’t help the feeling churning inside of me that yearned to know more.

Ron

I was sitting at my cubicle on Wednesday when Rita stopped by my desk. “How’s the article coming?”

I knew she was talking about the perpetual bridesmaid one. “It still needs work; still a rough draft,” I told her.

“I want to see what you’ve got. Email it to me,” Rita said bluntly before walking away.

“But—” It didn’t matter what I was going to try to say, she was expecting it and I needed to send it along.

I didn’t understand why I was hesitating, though. This was going to be my big break, and yet I had this nagging feeling in my stomach. 

Sure, Hermione was strong minded and opinionated, but she was always so interesting to talk to. I found myself craving her company and wanting to learn more about her. Hell, I’d even admitted my darkest secret about Romilda that no one knew outside of immediate family.

The last time I put love ahead of my career I lost the section for my contributing investigative pieces and landed my arse firmly in commitments. I needed to stay focused so I shook the thoughts of Hermione from my head as I carried on with cleaning up the article. It’d been so long since I let anyone into my life, and I just didn’t know her well enough yet to trust her. 

I did make one small concession, deciding not to use her real name because of the business. So I called her Hermione Wilkins in the article. No one needed to know, and it was my feeble attempt at protecting her identity. Satisfied with the draft, I pressed send on the email and moved onto my next task.

On Friday, Rita called me into her office. “This is really good, Weasley. You should be proud.”

I looked at her in slight confusion, not exactly sure which article she was talking about.

“The perpetual bridesmaid article! We’re running it on Sunday. You’re on the front page of the Styles section. And you’re out of commitments for good after you cover that Warrington/Potter wedding, of course.”

“Er, right. Yeah, thanks!” I tried to fake excitement over it, but the knot was pitted even deeper in my stomach.

“Why aren’t you more excited?”

“I just think it could use some more time, that’s all. She’s in that wedding, too. The one next weekend. Let me wait and see if I can learn more. You know, to add—”

“Ron, this is perfect as is. Isn’t this what you wanted? Or has someone taken a fancy to Ms. Wilkins?” Rita gave me a knowing smile, but it wasn’t a genuine one. It made me uncomfortable.

“Can we please just push publication one more week?” I asked once more.

Rita sighed dramatically. “I’ll see what I can do, but if you have started to care for her, you might want to tell her. You can go now. I’m sure you have things to accomplish before the weekend.”

I nodded slightly as I turned to leave. I had to find a way to tell Hermione. I wasn’t ready to lose whatever dysfunctional new friendship we’d created, but after she’d already accused me of lying to her, I had no idea how I was going to spin this. No matter how I looked at it, it was totally deceitful.

 Not to mention my sister and all of her lies, too. No matter how annoying I thought Hermione could be, I knew she didn’t deserve that. She needed to know this was coming. I had to tell her.

~o~

My phone rang on Saturday afternoon. It was the first Saturday where I didn’t have to do anything related to weddings and it was brilliant, until I saw Ginny’s name on the caller ID.

“What?” I answered.

“I need your help.”

“Aren’t I already helping you enough?”

“Never,” Ginny said through a grin that I knew was undoubtedly plastered on her face.

“Well?” I asked, pretending to be annoyed.

“I just got a call that the favors are done and ready to be picked up in Brentwood. Harry was going to do it after the dinner tasting, but I’m worried that won’t give him enough time to get to Andover for dinner with Mum and Dad since it’s in the complete opposite direction!”

“So, you’re asking me to pick up the favors, then?”

“Unless you wanted to come to dinner—”

“Nope, I’m good. I’ve got to try and get a hold of Hermione tonight for something anyways,” I told her.

“Hermione?” Ginny’s voice sounded intrigued.

“Yeah, but it’s not what you think. It’s not like I’m into her or anything,” I said a little too quickly.

“Sureee,” Ginny teased. “Well, you’re in luck. She’s with Harry right now for the tasting at the Winchester in Putney. She offered to go to the tasting since I was wrapped up with things back home. Maybe she could go with you?”

“Yeah, maybe…” I had to admit that Ginny came up with a good idea.

“Listen, I have to go, we’re getting ready to leave now. Hopefully Harry will be hungry enough. I did reserve a later dinner, but Mum and Dad wanted to get settled at the inn beforehand since they didn’t want to drive home tonight…” Ginny trailed off.

“Okay, tell them I said hi, and I’ll take care of the favors for you.”

“Thanks, Ron, I owe you!”

“Yeah you owe me for a lot of—” I stopped talking once I realized she’d already hung up the phone.

“Doesn’t she believe in saying goodbye?” I said out loud as I shook my head. 

I could be at the Winchester House in fifteen minutes. Grabbing my wallet and keys, I headed out the door and hailed a taxi.

When I arrived at the hotel, the maitre’d pointed me in the direction of where Harry and Hermione were seated. It was a relatively nice day. Warm and partly cloudy, but I could tell by the way the sky was changing that a rainstorm was coming in.

I walked through the main area to the outdoor seating section where I stopped near the doorway to look for them. I spotted them on the other side of the terrace overlooking the Thames at a small table. My first thought was of how gorgeous Hermione looked when she was smiling. She normally only reserved scowls for me, and I hadn’t realized how attractive she truly was until that moment.

The thought terrified me. I wasn’t sure if I was even ready to let someone else into my life like that. I’d sworn off love, convinced it wasn’t in the cards for me. If things were meant to look up, there was no way it could be her. Especially not after that article dropped. At least Rita was giving me more time to explain it to her.

I refocused on the two of them and began to take a few steps toward their table. That’s when I saw it. The look I’d seen on every bride who was hopelessly in love with their soon to be groom. How had I never realized it before? The way she smiled and leaned across the table. 

All the unabashed flirting. Everything was making sense now. Why she was so upset at the club that first night, why she was so dejected when she called me, and why she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to be part of my sister’s wedding. Hermione was in love with her boss, who was also my sister’s fiancée. I wasn’t sure what was worse. Her pining over a man who had no interest in her at all, or Harry’s complete obliviousness to the entire situation. I’d seen him around my sister long enough to know he only had eyes for her.

I was feeling a mix of hurt and anger that I hadn’t felt since Romilda left me, and I didn’t understand why because it wasn’t like I was in love with Hermione or anything. I just enjoyed her company and was keen on the prospect that she might be a good friend if we could get past her constant accusations. 

At that moment I lost all my ambition to tell Hermione about the article, and even to ask her along on the wedding errand. I was about to turn and leave when Harry happened to look in my direction and called me over. Shit.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione looked at me in surprised annoyance.

Of course she was annoyed, I just ruined the probable fantasy she was currently living with this whole situation.

 “Jenny called and asked if I could go pick up the favors with you before the shop closes.”

“Oh, I thought I was going to take care of that,” Harry said.

“Yeah, Harry and I were just getting ready to head to Brentwood now,” Hermione said pointedly.

“Well, the bride is worried that it’ll make him late for some dinner that’s past the other side of London, so…”

“Hmm, she does make a good point. And it looks like the rain is heading in, which would make travel conditions worse,” Harry said. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. Hermione’ll ensure everything is sorted as the maid of honor, right?” I asked, raising my eyebrow in question and knowing she couldn’t say no.

“I—I guess,” Hermione sounded deflated as she shot me a death glare as Harry was finalizing the menu.

Good. Someone needed to pop the bubble because she was holding onto a dream that would never come true.

“Great, thanks again, you guys. I better get going if I have to stop home before heading to Andover.” 

Harry got up and clapped me on the back as he took off toward the exit. I smiled widely at Hermione, who looked like she was going to murder me. I couldn’t wait to reveal what I’d found out about her little secret.