#the amout of times i use the word fucking

[dark-swan-baby]

Harry Lewis NSFW alphabet-🔞

a= Aftercare (what they're like after sex): I feel like Harry after sex is either super cuddly like a Koala and just really sleepy

b= body part (their favorite of theirs and their partner):  Harry loves your stomach whether laying his head on it or just kissing it

c=cum (anything to do with cum): he used to love just cumming on your stomach but when you got on birth control and he came in you for the first time it was like the most amazing experience and ever since then its only ever been inside

e=experience (how experienced are they): on Chris's drunk Lego building he said his body count was 10 so he's pretty experienced and he knows his way around the body especially your body

d=dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs): on a moresidemen sidemen video he said he had tasted his own cum so not much more for me to explain

f=favorite position: missionary and cowgirl

g= goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): He usually quite serious on occasion he'll throw out one of his stupid jokes

h= hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) : he's pretty well tamed down there but when he's lazy he just kind of leaves it until it gets crazy then he'll trim it down

i= intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...) : surprisingly he's kind of romantic he's passionate with it

j= jack off (masturbation headcanon: He doesn't jack off as much as he used to before he started dating you he pretty much jerking off twice a week but now he only jacks off when he's away on a long sidemen shoot like the holiday ones

k= kink (one or more of their kinks) : not much to say man loves anal

l= location (favorite places to do the do) : nothing to fancy he loves the bed he loves holding onto the headboard while he rams into you and loves the bath he's got a weird fixation of doing it in the bath

m= motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) : when you wear his hoodies but one time you asked him to teach you how to play golf so the whole day he was behind you holding you teaching you how to swing good lord you bet that got him going he fucked you in the shed

n= no (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs) :    Chocking you, he's fine with you chocking him but him chocking you he couldn't do it does not want to accidentally hurt you

o= oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) : he likes when you give him blowjobs but man is a munch he eats you out like it's his last meal and god he's good

p= pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) : slow and deep he's passionate so he's slow but he rams it in deep

q= quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) : He prefers sex over quickies like he won't say no but he would much rather have sex

r= risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) : this man gets embarrassed easy on time freezy walked in on you and Harry fucking doing some kinky shit and Harry turned red of embarrassment so since then he has locked the door and been extra careful since then and freezy has not let the two of you forget

s= stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...) : 2 but on a good day 4

t=  toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) : surprisingly not even with all the amout of sex stuff Harry's been gifted in videos they just kind of sit in his room

u= unfair (how much they like to tease) : no he likes to get straight into it and gets all whiny and frustrated when you tease him

v= volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make) : he's not super loud but he's not quiet he grunts and moans, he has whimpered a couple of times

w= wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) : you and Harry have used the deep stray (sorry didn't know what to but here <3)

x= x-ray (let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words) : 6 inches but 7 when hard and it’s pretty girthy with a slight curve at the top

y= yearning (how high is their sex drive?) : highish he gets all needy after shoots and just goes straight to you

z= zzz (... how quickly they fall asleep afterward) : He cleans you and himself up then passes out cuddling you

~~~~~

My first nsfw alphabet let me know who else you wanna see 🤍

[familyagrestefanblog]

Chat Noir in THAT moment of "Revolution"

May I say with every inch of my heart: fucking THANK YOU Adrien for speaking up to give the governmental and systemically oppressed civilans who think themselves the helpless victims of a normal but highly corrupted, extremely dangerous and selfish person in their mayor’s position an actual VOICE.

And he even did it in probably the savest and most orderly way as well, which ensured that Chloé can neither use the citizens’ reaction against the people themselves nor dismiss it overall because every other approach but EXACTLY what Adrien did here would have resulted in some variation of a chaotic sea of voices and opinions contradicting and clashing each other in various degrees of intensity, favoritism, audibility and spoken CONTENT, in an environment where people could have then freely spoken against and FOR Chloè too.

Ladybug and Chat Noir showing up in a political situation like THIS to get the people on their side to rise up against the corrupted mayor by taking full control of the whole situation should have been an almost IMPOSSIBLE feat to accomplish this quickly and smoothly in execution because a political scenario like this is a literal MINEFIELD as we saw at the end of the last episode. One wrong word and everything could have ended up in total madness that would have either taken a serious amout of time and effort to get back under control or outright through FORCE (or both)

But Adrien was just out here and did it in 5 seconds FLAT.

Thank you Adrien for taking the massive value of your status as Chat Noir into your own hands and acting as the politically most competent and most effective fucker in this entire mess of a situation (besides Lila but that’s a given) as Chloè’s true foil in this entire episode.

You know I would never use the word “perfect” to describe Adrien as a person but I’ve gotta be honest, the way so many massive delicate factors of how to approach not only a political conflict but a full on governmental escalation like this - were a whole sea of angered people have to be lead to speak as a unit - were immediately NAILED with this ONE perfectly timed and worded sentence and this ONE striking hand gesture was pretty fucking close to perfection. Ladybug and Mayor Chloé were having a hero-villain akuma pissing contest of moralities and Chat Noir just pulled all of that back into harsh reality with one swift action to actually give the power back to the people. Let’s fucking GO!

That was the most effective, competent, responsible and situation-appropriate (and that in corrupted POLITICS) leadership action being taken in the entire episode and it was done in 5 seconds flat by Chat Noir who eagerly wanted to intervene since right the beginning of the episode. No wasting time holding a speech, no unnecessary hero smack talk, no showmanship and no personal verbal morality battles. Just using his status to act as a leader for the civilian people so they can join him to act as one strong unit no matter their age, voice volume, body height, strength etc, 👏it 👏did👏 not👏 matter. 👏

(only people without arms would have been excluded, if you really wanna nit-pick)

He did everything so fucking RIGHT in that moment. Through providing them with a clear-cut language and morality standpoint from his part - without making it about himself-, an easy and situation-specific & very fast, universal and practical but also very impactful way to communicate their game-changing opinion for this ONE specific point he names very forthright and that calls the problem right out on it’s core, so Chloè and the people who support her have no wiggle room to shut it down or dismiss it through pocking holes by claiming people could have misinterpreted what he meant.

5 fucking seconds. PLEASE make it entire episodes!

[suntrastar]

sink or swim

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

summary: you first meet ransom when meg drags you along to a party. everything somehow spirals from there.

warnings: swearing, smut (but like very vague smut, nothing super explicit), ransom’s general assholery

word count: 9.3k

author’s note: i hate ransom drysdale! he is a shit character! if he existed irl i would whoop his ass with NO hesitation. but i still wrote this fic because ... a bitch gets thirsty okay?? okay. and ik this is very long BUT a lot of it is dialogue so it should flow pretty fast!!! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!! ily now enjoy!!! you can also read this on ao3 :)

There’s something fun about being somewhere where no one wants you, and then something shameful. 

Meg isn’t touching you, but as she drags you around her famous grandfather’s mansion in search of people to bother, it feels like she has you on an invisible leash, fastened tight over your neck. To keep you tethered to her- like a fucking dog. 

The leash hurts like it is not made of plastic or metal but instead two hands squeezing tight, wringing you dry, choking you harder and harder and bruising you purple with no remorse.

Now, she’s debating political theory with her douchebag fuck of an uncle, who almost hits you once- almost hits you twice with his cane while waving it around as he quotes Fox News-

Their voices rise. You’re the only one that flinches.

Standing awkwardly on the edge, you wonder why you are the only guest at this terrible party that looks so lost. Meg gives you a covert this-is-total-bullshit glance, and a small, pained, rehearsed smile, both of which you have to return- that’s the real reason you’re here, after all- and her uncle rants on, wholly oblivious.

You look past them both, to where one man stands by himself.

He’s leaning against the far wall, and while Meg retaliates with some of her favorite words, including audacity and bigoted and problematic, you take a sudden, intense interest in the wallpaper pattern, sweeping your eyes over the span of it, looking over the man just once.

He is staring right back at you.

All it takes is his eyes- he’s just staring, but you’re absolutely embarrassed. 

He looks rich, with too much product in his hair and a coat that looks like it cost more than your rent, with loafers that expose an uncomfortable amount of ankle and an expression that morphs into something wolfish as he starts towards you-

Before you can think, he’s joined your little circle- Meg prefers standing, so of course, everyone stands- and smiles when she glares at him. 

He isn’t looking at you anymore.

“So,” he interrupts, and his voice is so dark, “what riveting political topic are we debating tonight?”

You should call an Uber. Why did you accept Meg’s offer of a ride?

“Ransom,” Meg says sweetly, “could you just, like, fucking not?”

This is supposed to be a Christmas party, but none of these people seem to be in the Christmas spirit. Including her uncle, with his stuffy sweater set and clunky-as-hell shoes. He sputters something about young people and their profanity, and then hastily leaves. 

Without thinking, you breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. 

The man smiles wider. Unfortunately, it makes him look very handsome.

”Ouch,” he says lightly, to Meg, and turns to you.

A shiver runs down your spine. 

You hate him immediately. 

“Who are you?” he asks.

For whatever reason, the question makes Meg scoff. She shakes her head at you- a warning. Her hair flounces with the movement.

Because she doesn’t want you to, you give him your name. And then add, because your name alone seems like a title too stripped down, “I’m Meg’s friend.”

It’s hard to convince yourself to be polite, when you don’t like how he’s been looking at you- with his eyes narrowed and brown furrowed and lips parted. He gives an insufferable nod.

“Right,” he says. “The one she’s been showing off all evening.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Ransom-” Meg starts, and suddenly you are so angry, at this man for confirming what you thought was all in your head, at Meg for suddenly swooping in to save you, like she’s been waiting for it-

“I guess,” you say, and smile a little, and regret everything.

“That’s pathetic,” he says, and looks at you kindly.

 Apparently, Meg is the only one allowed to be self-righteous in her annoyance, or anger, or any other mildly passionate emotion. She doesn’t return your covert this-is-total-bullshit glance. 

So you fend for yourself.

“Well, so is this fucking party, so-”

He interrupts you with a laugh. 

It’s loud and arrogant and mirthless, and you’ll climb out of a window, find a way to walk through the walls, if it means that you’ll escape it.

“I’m just joking,” he says, pursing his lips, and the hands on your neck, ever-present, nearly crush the breath out of you. “Don’t get your panties all in a twist.”

“So funny I forgot to laugh,” you say, and instead of replying, he just looks at you.

He looks at you slowly, like he has nothing better to do, like he has time to waste. You can smell him- some cologne that’s spicy, and expensive, and Meg is staring at you in shock, like you’ve committed a crime. 

But she’s quiet.

“I’m Ransom,” he says, and raises his hands to make little air quotes, which is weirdly adorable in a way that you hate, “Meg’s ‘asshole cousin’”

“Weird name,” you say. 

You’ve changed your mind- you’re not even going to attempt to be nice.

For a second, he looks furious.

It’s attractive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Anyways, I’m about to ditch. Do you want a ride?”

How does he know you came here with Meg?

He was staring at you from the wall-

From his butterscotch-colored coat with its awful, ostensible lapels, he pulls out his car keys. The BMW logo flashes silver and blue, clashing against the gold of his pinky ring, clinking against the metal as he twirls the key ring around his finger-

For a second, you think that he’s about to toss the keys across the room and command you to fetch.

“Um,” you say, uncertainly, irritated with your own restraint, “Thanks, but Meg will-”

“Meg will what?”

He’s mocking you, and there is no one to come to your rescue. 

Hesitantly, like she has to think twice about it, Meg opens her mouth to say something. What is her problem? What is your problem? Why are you treating her like she is your saving grace? 

You talk before she gets the chance. “Okay, yeah. A ride would be great.”

***

Ransom offers because he likes your face.

You’re better-looking than the girls that Meg usually brings along to these parties, or maybe his standards have fallen- he isn't sure. Does it really matter? Even though he’s been looking at you all night, even though he’s positively thrilled to have you in his car, he’s not going to try anything.

There’s something desperate in your eyes that compels him against it.

You inhale sharply when he turns left. 

“You forgot your turn signal,” you say, and he kind of likes how you chastise him, not angrily or even upset, but just exasperated-

How is someone like you friends with someone like Meg?

“Don’t worry about it,” he says lightly, and the tired glare you give him is enough to make his entire week.

Now that he thinks about it, his mother is always on his case about things like this- compassion and civility and basic human decency, and how he lacks it all, but what about now? He’s taking a miserable girl to her home, simply from the goodness of his own heart, with no strings attached. 

This is such a good deed- this is like charity.

His mother is also always telling him that he’s severely, almost clinically narcissistic.

He definitely is, but again, does it matter?

“So, what do you think about my family?” he asks, making a big, dramatic show of using his turn signal before swerving right, feeling too pleased when you smile. 

He steals a glance at your knees and somehow feels guilty.

He’ll have to do something about that.

“They’re pretty... lively,” you say hesitantly, and he’s suddenly hating the dark, this stupid fucking night- he’d like to see you better.

“Lively,” he repeats, and barks out a laugh. “They’re fucking crazy.”

You laugh, too, a real one- off-kilter, and too loud- none of that artificial shit he heard at the party. Nothing meant to please.

“I was definitely thinking that,” you say. He catches you looking at his hands, but boldly, you don’t look away. “I just didn’t want to be rude.”

“Now you’re worried about being rude?”

“I’m in a car with a strange guy I’ve never met before, so yeah.”

You’re smiling but look uncomfortable, and then afraid.

All bark and no bite- you’ve been talking all this talk, when really, he realizes, you’re so washed-out, so faint, like the bare sliver of moon out in the sky, the same weak moon he’s been cursing out. The same stars, too- you are just as scattered.

You look pretty.

“Are you scared?”

He keeps his eyes on the road because he thinks you’ll snap at him if he doesn’t. Not like anyone drives out here anyway- not like he can’t pay off a ticket or two or five-

“Should I be?”

There is something so delicious about this moment, with you starting to worry- he can’t look at the road anymore, not when he can watch your throat bob as you swallow instead, and it still feels so violating, but so good. 

“Nope,” he says, and you startle when you hear him say it, and he has to bite his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “No need.”

“Great,” you say, and go quiet. 

When he pulls up to your apartment complex, not too far from where he lives, he holds his mouth in check. He could say so many things right now, but for you, he restrains himself.

You have your bag in hand, seatbelt off. From the streetlight, the planes of your face look waxy yellow.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say. 

Your hand is on the door handle, nails glittering. He can’t make out the color of the polish.

While looking at it, a sudden urge overcomes him.

And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but he wants to, so bad. It’s borderline frantic, the desire- it’s necessary and all-important and crucial, for him and his basic peace of mind, and maybe for you, too-

Who is he to deny himself?

“Wait,” he says, even though the door is open and you have half of yourself out the door. 

The cold is slowly seeping in, bone-chilling.

You wait.

“Let me just,” he says, and can’t bring himself to say anything else.

He reaches out for your waxen face with one hand and presses it firmly against your cheek.

Under his touch, you shiver. He fans out his fingers to hold you better. 

Your eyes are wide. He thinks you look a bit horrified- horrified with yourself for not resisting, maybe.

But he closes his eyes as he leans in, so it doesn’t matter.

He turns your head for you, a bit forcefully. You don’t protest.

He kisses your cheek.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, you’re staring at him with your mouth in a perfect circle.

“Uh,” you say, and suddenly look away and out into the night, and it makes him angry, even though it should be flattering, “Merry Christmas.”

*** 

You don’t think about Ransom as much as he probably would have wanted- life picks up too fast.

In the last days of the year, Meg calls you and texts you and even goes so far as to send a few emails, but finally, you seem to have found the self-respect to not respond- consider that ridiculously wealthy bridge burned. 

In January, your brother leaves to study for a semester abroad. All the walls in your small apartment are suddenly looming, standing high over you, standing empty. You try to shove off the loneliness by studying harder, by staying distracted.

In February, you have the same dream nearly every night- you’re sitting outside on a porch in the sun and for some reason there’s a bird on your head, and in your lap there’s a clock whose hands don’t work, and you’re wearing a heavy necklace made of gold links that jingle, and you’re so happy. 

Does the bird count as company?

In early March, while you’re watering your plants, your phone rings with an unknown number. 

You shouldn’t pick up unknown numbers.

You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Remember me?” 

His voice nearly gives you whiplash.

It’s dark and harsh, faceless and yet as arrogant as ever. 

“Hi, Ransom,” you say, and think of the night in the car for the first time since, think of how he gripped your face so hard that his ring left an imprint. “How the hell do you have my number?”

“Meg gave it to me,” he says smugly. “She says hi.”

You wonder what Meg thinks you did to her. It’s obviously something bad, something terrible, if she so willingly gave your number to this pretty-faced, pretty-voiced, ugly-coat-wearing asshole-

“Awesome,” you say plainly. You don’t want to talk about her. “Do you, like, need something, or-”

“I want to take you out,” he says.

You laugh and your grip on your pitcher slips, sloshing water over the edge.

“You’re joking.”

He is, right? 

He takes an impatient breath that, for some reason, sounds inappropriate. “I’m serious.”

“Ransom,” you say, slowly, “I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me,” he says testily, and you can perfectly picture him, sitting in some colossal brownstone his parents bought him, while a butler daintily dabs the sweat from his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. “Tonight.”

You’ve overwatered your marigolds. 

Has his voice really swept you this far away?

“No,” you say, and shake your head, even though he can’t see it. “No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “You have anything better to do?”

You don’t, but you take a deep breath and prepare yourself to lie-

“I’ll treat you good,” he suddenly says, and his voice is low and sticky-sweet, dripping with honey. “I promise.”

He says it in a way that makes your knees weak.

You physically have to sit down- he knows how to get what he wants.

Could you actually do this?

Could you go out on a date with a crude, pretentious, trust-fund piece of trash, who probably thinks you’re easy, who’s only calling you because he’s bored, who has already subtly insulted you twice in this conversation alone-

-who got your number from his cousin that you both decidedly dislike, who kissed your cheek like you were pretty in the dark of the night, in his cold car?

“Fine,” you say. “Take me out.”

***

He doesn’t tell you that you look nice- he just stares.

There is something predatory in his eyes.

You’re out on a Wednesday night with a bad man, wasting your time, trying to get something out of nothing, smiling a fake smile when he orders you a drink you don’t like, already irritated with him, and trying too hard to stop looking at his face.

How are you actually interested?

You tell him that you’re in medical school.

“Really,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you. “You don’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

Underneath the table, you clench your hands for some sense of control, but still feel like you’re spinning. “What kind of girl?”

“Smart,” he says, and picks up his drink. The glass sweats beads of condensation, wetting the tips of his fingers. “I didn’t know you were smart.”

You shouldn’t dignify his flimsy insult with a response- he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, trying to make you roll your eyes or scowl or shiver. He wants you unsettled. 

But the moral high ground is, unfortunately, too high.

“And I didn’t know that you’re such a terrible date.”

His teeth gleam white when he smiles. He knows.

He knows that he can say whatever the hell he wants, because he has money, and those eyes, and that insufferably nice rich-boy hair, and that sweater with its charmingly frayed hems, and that voice- he has everything, and then some, and he’s about to have you, too, if he keeps on looking at you like he already does.

“You’re so sweet,” he says. 

“Fuck off.”

He winks and you could cry, you’re so fucking bothered-

You’re not usually this uptight, but he has you so drastically wound up that every little thing he does, even how he’s sitting- body sprawled, manspreading- is fire licking up on your skin, scorching-hot and ruining you with no remorse, like you have done something to deserve it.

When his eyes trail down, from your eyes to your mouth to your neck to below, you are so acutely aware of wanting him that you feel guilty. Like it’s a crime.

***

You don’t seem like the type of girl to fuck on the first date. 

So, of course, Ransom tries to fuck on the first date.

As you stand outside the restaurant, in your dress and strappy sandals, you look so tense that he wants to laugh.

 He can’t help it, because this whole thing you have going on- this weariness you approach everything with, this attitude- is so funny. Maybe, in any other situation, it would be irritating, but he’s been so bored lately that it’s stirring.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” he asks, quietly, taking a step closer to you so that at this very moment, under the waning sun, you should be able to just lean up and kiss him-

You blink slowly and keep your silence.

This is fucking tedious.

This should be so easy- all he has to do is settle his hands somewhere soft and let time pass, and then before he knows it you’re there and under and begging. But he can’t bring himself to touch you just yet, not when his head is calling you pathetic, and his heart calls you-

His heart just calls you.

You start to answer, and then hesitate. All five stages of grief flicker over your face at once- denial to acceptance in the same breath. 

“Sure,” you say, unevenly, desperately-

When you step inside his house, your eyes go wide. As you take it in- the decor, the windows, the excess, he locks the door behind him and takes you in.

You step further inside, and he thinks of where it would be best, but then your eyes crease as you smile- it’s impossible to wait when your smile looks like that- and so he backs you right into the closest wall, cups your face with both of his hands and kisses you.

He kisses you and you curl your hands over his shoulders and immediately kiss back, and he is taken aback and delighted. 

And he knew- the entire time at dinner when you were making eyes at him like you couldn’t believe that you were actually sitting there, present in that moment- he knew that secretly, you’re a freak. He knew it- he knows it.

He hopes it.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispers, right into your mouth, when your heart has been beating right into his for a while, “Let me fuck you right here.”

You bite his lip.

He takes a hand away from your face and reaches under your dress fast, rucking it all the way up your thighs, trailing up to touch you-

“Fuck,” you gasp, and arch your back up against the wall, and he grips you a little tighter-

He presses a finger into you- pushing aside your underwear and, good grief, you’re already wet- harshly, and pulls away from your mouth, so he can watch your face. 

The lines creasing your forehead look like poetry.

He thinks he likes you. It’s a shame he had to meet you through Meg- it would be nice if he had met you somewhere else, on his own. 

That way, he’d be able to waltz in one day, to another insipid family gathering, with you tucked under his arm. You, with your promise of a medical degree and your strappy sandals, and your iron grip on his shoulders and your drawn out breath of a moan-

The looks on their faces would be priceless.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, and he’s a little irritated at how cracked his voice sounds, but it’s the right thing to say- you swear again and he picks up his pace, pressing hard on your clit. “If you’ll be good to me.”

“I’ll-” you say, and you’re actually stuttering, and breaking out into a lovely sweat, still forced back into the wall with his hand and body. He leans closer, so he can’t tell where you and him and the wall start and end. “I’ll be- fuck, Ransom-”

You still have your arms wrapped around him, like an embrace. He keeps one hand between your thighs, your dress pooling over his arm like water, and uses his other to work at his belt buckle.

This is also funny- you stay exactly how you are, even though at that moment, there is nothing holding you back.

***

The world is begging for you to consider your actions.

But you don’t. You know that when he offers, you’ll meet him again.

It should be too late. You’re exhausted, from a day full of lectures and an evening spent in a lab, working as a professor’s research assistant, and then studying for a few hours in the library- all you really want to do is sleep. 

But then he calls.

The night is suddenly brimming with possibility, and you’ve never been more awake.

On a whim, Ransom suggests ice cream, and because you can’t bring yourself to deny him, you end up at a place that you would never go for- where everything is handmade and served in thick paper cups with multicolored plastic spoons, but he pays, because of his stupid ego or fragile masculinity or whatever the hell, so you don’t care.

He stands next to you as you order, and his shoulder keeps on brushing into yours. You can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. In the glass shield that the tubs of ice cream sit behind, you’re both reflected, your body warped and tall, his body warped and taller. In the glass, his eyes meet yours.

The tension is strong- it’s only a matter of time.

Your heart flutters.

When you sit, he bumps his knees against yours- you’re sure it’s on purpose, now, but you don’t say anything. What even is there to say? 

That you like it? 

When he digs into his ice cream, the plastic spoon- a green one- snaps in his hand.

 And because you’re so caught up in your own ridiculous thoughts, before he can go back up to get another, you pull your own from your mouth- a pink one- and offer it to him.

The proposition makes him smile.

Why does he smile like that? Each movement, each twitch of muscle is so perfectly detached and coordinated- it’s violent. 

But he still takes the spoon from you gently, with a soft hand. 

He’s too pretty to be mean, you think, but against any type of judgement- not just the better kind- you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You let yourself laugh and he scowls. 

“This place sucks,” he says, like he isn’t the one who chose it.

He adjusts the womens’ scarf he’s always wearing, carefully arranging it over himself so it looks like it was carelessly thrown on. The blue in the paisley print brings out his eyes- it makes him look so stupidly hot that you start to get angry.

You just shrug. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

He puts your spoon in his mouth and looks at you.

Again, the night ends at his place- this time on an actual bed, because you ask for it, and you think he likes how you look when you ask for things in the current state state you’re in-

He fucks you in the dark, and swears into your ear, and is not kind or soft in any way, but after he finishes, he takes the time to kiss the spot in between your breasts, and you think that maybe he isn’t entirely horrible. The bedsheets are cool against your skin, and his mouth is always hot.

You leave without a word.

***

He takes you out this time, in a real, urgent show of wealth- he picks you up in his fancy car, takes you to a fancy restaurant where the numbers next to the fancy menu items are all appalling, where he spends the whole time making these awful, unfunny innuendos that still manage to rile you up, because they’re coming from his mouth-

On the way back, while waiting at a stoplight, you take a deep breath and brace yourself before looking at him.

He really is gorgeous- all lazy grace and harsh angles. The light colors his face red, red in his eyes and in the plane of his cheekbone and in the slope of his mouth- like a beautiful warning sign. His hands are carelessly draped over the steering wheel and, despite the warning, you reach out and trace a finger over his knuckles. 

His whole body jerks.

You quickly draw your hand back.

“What?” he asks sharply. He’s staring at you like you’re crazy.

You don’t know why this is suddenly so fucking embarrassing, all you did was touch him- but you suddenly feel terrible, and-

“Nothing,” you say, with the same tone, and whip your head away from him to the window, where you smolder in the dark and furiously stare at nothing.

The light turns green. He takes his foot off the break and all but slams it on the gas pedal, driving as atrociously as ever, looking over at you for a split second when you don’t protest. The blood rushing in your ears is too loud for you to think- you can’t form any words.

Once it subsides, marginally, you add, “Sorry.”

His jaw tenses.

You look back over at him, at his ring, and imagine it pressing into your neck.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” he suddenly asks- suddenly demands, with a blazing authority that makes your stomach do flips.

You don’t know what answer he wants. “Um, one time I snuck out of-“

“Let’s do something crazier.”

On an abandoned road, he pulls over, and then you’re under him in the backseat- doing something crazier. 

You might have some type of psychic tendencies, because his ring presses heavy into your neck as he pushes himself inside you, starting at a bruising pace, and then he says your name in the dark, and he looks so beautifully flushed, startling when you grab his hair, laughing when your hand accidentally skims his thigh, smiling when you come-

You wish you had the resolve to put an end to this.

You wish you could stay when it’s over.

***

You don’t like his house.

It’s not the brownstone you imagined, but rather a huge, minimalistic box, with too many windows and spotless paint and modern wood fixtures. Ransom has all of these customary rich-person things, including stately furniture and eclectic art pieces and tall shelves stuffed with books, but owning any actual personality has escaped him.

Standing in his house feels like standing in an empty room- it’s all so apathetic.

Still, you show up when he calls.

You haven’t done anything this bad before. 

But there’s a first time for everything, right? First time for enjoying bruises and biting and an unwavering grip on your neck or hips or waist or thighs, first time leaving something so intense so awkwardly.

Each time is worse than the last, with the awkwardness spiraling, accruing beyond reason, and each time you struggle with what to say- even now, you just do your best to stay quiet as you start to get up, reaching for your clothes-

Ransom drapes a heavy arm over you before you have the chance.

“You can stay,” he says flippantly, and then shifts to pull you close to him, so that you are suddenly lying bare-backed against his chest, so that his sweat-slick body and heartbeat imprints itself on your skin.

Is he asking?

You crane your head over your shoulder to get a look at him.

He returns your stare like he’s been waiting for it. 

His face is still flushed pink and a lock of hair hangs low over his forehead, and if you were any braver, you would comb a hand through it, gently, with no real intentions. He’s breathtaking. Even the new, foreign purple under his eyes is a sight- pretty like something you would want to kiss.

“You want me to stay?”

He rolls his eyes and tilts his head back. You would lick the sweat from the divots of his neck, if he asked you to.

“Or leave, if you want. I could care less.”

He cares

You know it because his grip is unwavering, because the terseness in his eyes is enough to make you look away.

Eventually, you settle a hand over his arm and try your best not to tremble. Ransom mumbles something under your breath- you can’t make any of it out, but you don’t ask him to repeat it, for the fear that it’ll upset this fragile bedroom balance you’ve so painstakingly built yourself into-

He wants you to stay. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, because you don’t think he is.

He inhales. You feel his chest against you; it’s shaky. You wonder, for a second, about who he might actually be, underneath the arrogance and egotism and constant need to be an asshole- is he someone you could like without feeling bad about it?

“Yeah,” he says, and throws his other arm over you, so that he is holding you. “Why?”

There isn’t a genuine bone in this man’s body, but he genuinely sounds confused.

It’s possible that you’re the one who isn’t okay.

“Because,” you say, and take a great leap of faith- holding your bare heart in your hands, you turn to face him.

You’re fully exposed and subjected to his gaze- it’s nearly eviscerating. His eyes dip down to your chest and something like insecurity flares in your chest. It’s awful and terrible and you urgently want to kiss him on the lips.

He always kisses you first. You don’t know if you have it in you to kiss him yet. 

You wouldn’t ever try, in case you don’t.

“You look kind of tired,” you say, and his eyes bore into you with a sinking weight, threatening to drown. One of his hands finds a blooming bruise on your skin and lightly presses. He doesn’t react when you wince. The action is still kind- almost tender.

He sighs, and it is such a delicate breath, fanning hot over your skin. 

“I’m not tired,” he says, almost childishly.

You might be overstepping. But you don’t even know where the lines have been drawn. 

“Okay,” you say, and because you would not dare kiss his lips, you lean close and kiss his jaw instead.

He startles and then gives you a crooked, lazy smile. He is everything good, you think- for this one moment. Pretty and soft-handed and made of glass and honey and all other lovely things.

You tuck your head in the crook of his neck and wrap an arm over his, tight, so he knows you are there, and hope for the best.

***

In your spare moments, you’re always thinking.

Ransom knows this because of how you look when you do it- your brow furrows and your eyes go glassy, and you frown with an intensity that he has never seen on anyone else.

It happens when you finish a sentence, when you have no response for him, when he is still talking but you’ve stopped listening. When you think it’s quiet.

It never happens during sex- is it pathetic to take pride in that?

As he stands in your apartment for the first time ever, you look like you’re in near-despair, like your thoughts are wreaking havoc on your mind, destructive and distressing. You wear basketball shorts and a college sweatshirt and glasses.

He didn’t know you wore glasses, and that you looked like this in them- he’s been missing out.

“Hi,” you say, and stare at him with troubled eyes.

Your apartment is so small. He almost feels claustrophobic, standing in here. When was the last time he willingly stood somewhere so small?

The lengths he’ll go to, for… 

For you, he supposes.

“Hi,” he says, and wonders, also for the first time ever, what it is that you’re always thinking. “Why do you have so many plants?”

On the windowsill, with even spacing in between, sits an entire row of glass jars housing plants- all singular flower stems, some budding, some in bloom. The petals of a marigold brush against the window, orange against the grey outside. It’s cute, he absently thinks, in a struggling, shabby type of way.

“It’s just something I do for fun,” you say, sounding irritated. “Like, a hobby.” 

Infringing on the living room space is a small table, cluttered with textbooks and pens and an open laptop with its screen dark.

It still baffles him that you’re smart.

“So,” you start, and cross your arms over your chest. He feels kind of offended, because he’s just realized that he really only knows a handful of things about you, and even that handful is sparse, slipping through his fingers. “Why’d you want to see me?”

He called on impulse. 

He’s just- he’s in what someone could call a mood, where he hates everything and has the intense desire to ruin something, and while he was thinking of how to fix it- beyond just getting wasted- he thought of you.

And when he called, you were sounding so tired and so he even said he could just meet you here, so you wouldn’t have to drive, so you could squeeze in a few more minutes of studying before he inevitably invades your mind-

Easily, he deflects. Nearby, there’s a hallway with two doors, one of which is tightly closed shut.

“What’s in there?” he asks, and points towards it.

You relax, slightly.

He wants to gather you up in his arms, but he doesn’t know for whose sake- his or yours?

“That’s my brother’s room,” you say, and your shoulders slump, and he resists the urge to pull you upright, and the urge to gawk. Brother? “He lives with me. But he’s studying abroad this semester.”

“Where?”

“Prague.”

He nods. This is a stiff, perfect, shocking distraction. “Nice city.”

You nod distantly and head back to the table to put your things away.

“Yeah,” you say, after too long of a pause, as you start to cap pens and set them aside. You look at him as you do it, and so you miss a few times, accidentally drawing dark lines of ink all over your fingers. “I’m glad he got to go. When we were kids, he was obsessed with wanting to travel- he had this entire map in our room, and he would draw stars over every country he wanted to visit, and there were, like, a hundred of them, and he could list every single one, in the exact order he wanted to visit, and he could even list the capitals- I’m sorry. You probably don’t care about any of this.”

He doesn’t.

Or, he shouldn’t, but your eyes are clearer, and as you neatly stack your textbooks in an order only known to you, he is almost intrigued.

He’s longing for you- when you are right there.

He feels like a person outside of himself, when you look at him and smile tiredly.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

There’s a cheesy ‘90s horror movie you find after a few minutes of channel surfing, complete with terrible special effects and edited-out profanity. The days are longer, now, and to stop the sun from casting a glare over the screen, you close all the blinds. It adds to the atmosphere, you say lightly, fully phased out of whatever just possessed you, and his hands are so itchy- itching to do something.

He sits. Patience is a virtue, but he is not virtuous, and so when you sit next to him and bring your knees to your chest, making yourself small, he goes to-

Something in his stomach stops him. 

It’s butterflies- is he actually nervous?

This is so fucking infuriating.

You’ve got him trapped in some type of pain-and-power-play, some type of unassuming purgatory, and all he can bring himself to do is lightly brush a hand against your shoulder. You smile at his touch and his heart fucking breaks.

As the second boy in the friend group gets murdered onscreen, you close your eyes and duck your head into your knees.

“Tell me when it’s over,” you say, voice muffled.

“Scaredy-cat,” he says, even though this is no time for jokes. 

You crack one eye open, looking only at him, and give him the finger.

Come here, he almost demands. The butterflies protest- he holds his tongue.

The dance continues. When the sun sets, everything darkens, settling into a dim blue. You look like something out of a painting. Faintly sad, unusually serene. The skin around your eyes has smoothened- you’ve stopped thinking so hard and he can suddenly breathe easier because of it-

And then there’s a jumpscare, and he shouts, “Jesus!”

The murderer has broken down a door, and all of the remaining characters are screaming, and you burst out laughing.

He’s in the middle of a crisis, and you’re laughing.

You lean into him as you laugh, with your head turned away from the screen and your eyes open, looking at him so fondly that he suddenly feels violated, and you let your shoulder brush against his.

“Scaredy-cat” you tease, and it’s absolutely now or never-

You’re making him weak- it takes too much time and effort for him to draw an arm over you.

You don’t flinch, but he is sure that you can hear his heart beating dangerously fast, without abandon, like it's trying to break free of his ribcage. He almost gasps when you come even closer and lightly kiss his cheek, wrapping your arms around him, and his head is just saying yes yes yes-

Your mouth goes over his ear, lips ghosting over skin. He waits, more scared than he’s ever been in his entire life, for what you have to say. 

***

So this is Ransom’s deep, dark, ugly secret.

He likes to be cuddled.

If it were anyone else, you would laugh.

But it’s Ransom, and so you just take it in stride, as part of his extremely fucked-up psyche that is probably a result of a hundred things he’ll never tell you- childhood trauma and neglect and the consequences that come with having more money than you need or deserve.

He’s always talking, always talking shit, always talking over you and over everyone else, and you realize, one day, that he really only is treading water- he’s only focused on staying afloat, speaking whatever he wants, but never actually saying anything.

He’s responsible for his faults, of course. But still, when he smiles in low light or curls his hands over yours so viciously, you don’t know if you should leave, or if you should just stay and pity him quietly.

You’re starting to like him too much to even care.

He starts coming around more. And he actually stays, and starts leaving pieces of himself behind. He has a toothbrush next to yours and a phone charger on his side of the bed and imported, undoubtedly expensive snacks in the kitchen.

He leaves clothes, too- you wash them with yours and keep them, neatly folded, in your closet.

On a warm day in May, he meets you at a cafe.

He does most of the talking, like always. It’s been months, already, but you still find it difficult to start conversations.

You still have trouble telling him certain things without feeling like you have to defend yourself, and he still rarely deviates from being a total dick, even when you hold him or have his head in your lap, when you make him laugh or when you kiss him.

Or when you put your hands in the sleeves of his sweaters and rub your palms against his forearms, because he’s always running warm and your hands are always cold. 

He always acts like it annoys him, jumps when your hands meet his skin- but you know he secretly likes it, because whenever you’re done he pulls the hems all the way over his hands and looks at you with something amazed in his eyes.

With the weather warming up, he’s ditched the sweaters and taken to wearing these awful fucking short-sleeved button-downs, all unnecessarily tight and showing way too much collarbone. He’s making you sweat.

“You’re staring,” he says, and smiles, self-satisfied.

You bring your straw to your lips and shake your head. “I’m not.”

He knows that you can’t help it- he is always so gorgeous. He’s infuriatingly pretty.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, and nudges your foot under the table, voice suddenly low, and it’s like, holy shit-

You bring your drink down and lean over the table, careful to avoid knocking anything over, and kiss him quickly.

He tastes like bitter coffee.

You’re sad, all of a sudden.

When you settle back in your seat, you clear your throat like nothing happened. You want to lean in again and button up the rest of his shirt, and kiss him again. You want to come so close that your noses touch, and then yell at him, just for being him.

He looks appalled

“What was that for?”

It’s the first time you’ve ever done this.

“No reason,” you say. “I just felt like it.”

“You just felt like it,” he repeats, and it’s like the same reaction from the night at the stoplight, and you realize-

He’s dumbstruck.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappears. He sets his jaw like he’s about to get up and leave. You try not to scowl, even though you feel like you’re drifting, tide carrying you away, sand clean and smooth on where your body once was-

It gets to you.

“Can I not just kiss you?” you snap harshly, glaring at him with a ferocity you don’t think he’s ever seen.

It’s inevitable- the result of months of frustration. You can only suppress yourself for so long. Why, you want to ask, why are you not entitled to him the way he is to you and everything else? Can you not ask for him so wholly?

He flinches.

Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire, flinches.

It brings a small sliver of satisfaction with it. There’s some nerve you’ve struck, and the discontent on his face is steadily growing- 

You pay it no mind, drinking the rest of your iced coffee in calm silence. 

Outside, the day is vaguely summery, where the sun is out and strong, but still too cold in the shade. You stare past his head, towards the door. How quickly can you leave?

“You can,” he says quietly, when you’re rising to throw your cup in the trash. “Whenever you want.”

His eyelashes are so long- they command a moment of attention all on their own when he blinks- soft and slow and gazing at you from underneath them. You wonder if he is doing this for the same reason you are. If he’s lonely, too.

When was the last time you had the dream with the bird?

You smirk. “Whenever?”

He is forlorn. 

You like him better in the spring.

“Whenever.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you say, and make your voice low, since two can play at that game.

He considerably perks up. 

*** 

When you wake up, he’s still in your bed.

Lately, he’s been spending more time at your place than his. You think that all those windows are finally starting to get to him.

Ransom always holds you fiercely in his sleep. You break free as gently as you can and take him in for a brief moment- you like how he looks when he’s asleep. Unconcerned, chest rising slow with each breath, hair splayed over the pillow in nearly every direction. He almost looks innocent.

You get up quietly, even though there’s no chance he’ll stir- he sleeps like the dead.

Daylight filters through the blinds in white-yellow streams, dappling him golden. 

You almost take a picture, but regretfully leave the room for other tasks- you stretch and water your plants and check your email, and then sit down at the table to Skype your brother.

He picks up fast.

“Hey!” you say, and at once feel so much relief, to see his grainy, smiling face on your laptop screen.

Europe has done him good- he’s grown out his hair, and his skin is glowing, and he looks so happy.

He tells you about what he’s been doing lately, studying architecture. It makes you so proud, this fact alone- that unlike you, he can do whatever he wants and doesn’t have the looming promises of debt and academic burnout and crushing, ever-present stress hovering over his shoulders. It is so good to see him, and you are so grateful that he can be who he wants to be, do what he wants to do-

“Holy shit, who is that?”

He’s looking past you. You turn around and almost jump- 

Ransom stands in the kitchen, shirtless and rummaging through the cupboards. He waves at you.

You would think that someone like Ransom would exclusively sleep in, like, silk pajama sets, or something, but at least he’s in sweatpants- however low-rise they might be, however loosely knotted the drawstring is. It’s better than nothing, at least- what if he had walked out in nothing?

When you turn back to the screen, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your camera feed- you look absolutely mortified.

You are absolutely mortified. This is the start of what can only be a nightmare.

“Are you dating that guy?” your brother asks incredulously. He’s still staring at Ransom with his jaw hanging loose. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No,” you say forcefully, without thinking. “That’s, um... “

Hopelessly, you gesture back towards him, trying to come up with the words. Nothing feels right in your mouth- every title you can come up with is too consequential, too heavy.

“...That’s Ransom.”

“Weird name,” your brother says, and grins.

You take a breath that feels more like a gasp. “I know.”

“Hey,” Ransom says, from the back, and continues to loudly open and close the cupboards- what the fuck is he even looking for? You don’t keep enough shit in there to warrant this much noise- he’s doing this for theatrics.

“I think I’m going to go,” you say loudly. “Love you.”

“Bye,” your brother says, and he’s grinning stupidly, like a madman.

You disconnect and feel like you might faint.

Not your boyfriend, right?

“Was that your brother?” Ransom asks, casually, finally finding what he was looking for- two mugs. There is no way that he didn’t come across them earlier. 

“Yeah- yes,” you say shakily. It feels like someone has filled your brain with fizzy water.

There’s a few boys your brother has met over the years, but you’ve always been careful. Because an introduction is like making a statement- it’s like saying that this person you’re with is important enough to you that they’re going to overlap, exist in more than just one part of your life.

But Ransom is a catastrophe of a person- you can barely handle him as he is. How could you ever have him as anything more?

He goes through the cupboards, again, and finds a box of teabags. “The one studying abroad?”

“I only have one brother,” you snap.

“Okay,” he says, totally unbothered, surprising you. He’s not a morning person in the slightest- why is he being so cordial? “Where do you keep your kettle?”

“Second cupboard on the right,” you say, and bury your head in your hands.

He looks at you. He is so many things, but never kind, until now. His hair, in its adorable bedhead, flops over his eyes. Before, it was only almost, but now, you think, he looks completely innocent, like the type of guy you could give kisses without feeling nervous, the type of guy you wouldn’t deny as your boyfriend.

What is wrong with him?

What is wrong with you?

At the end of the day, he’s always there- you’re exclusive, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough to deserve a title?

He finds the kettle, and then sifts through the box. He sorts through different flavors with a gentle precision you’ve never seen before- is this really him? Is he the type of person that is gentle and precise?

The uneven smattering of blue-black bruises on your thighs say no.

You’re so confused that your head hurts.

“None of these flavors are any good,” Ransom says, and shakes his head. His hair shines in the morning light. “Earl Grey- who the hell drinks Earl Grey?”

“Don’t insult my tea like that,” you say, and he looks back at you and gives you a brilliant flash of a smile.

If he’s bothered at all by your denial, he never brings it up.

*** He’s too far gone.

He’s in freefall, feeling weak- he’s fucking succumbed.

To you. To your comebacks and the world-weary gaze you have of everything, to your nonsensical collection of plants and your painfully unattractive basketball shorts, to the way you laugh too loud and too little, to the way you say his name, where he can never tell if you’re happy with him or exasperated-

It’s wrong. 

But, he thinks, so are all of these other things, like drugs and alcohol and blowing money on shit he doesn’t need- and you make him feel better than any of those things ever have, so why should anybody have a problem with it? A week goes by after you tell your brother that he isn’t your boyfriend- and it doesn’t bother him, because he’s never wanted that title in the first place, never has- but it obviously bothers you. 

You’re disappointed in yourself, because you think you’re supposed to be better than him, because you’re so smart and he is so terrible.

He hopes that that’s not how you actually think. It hurts him to0 much to even consider it, and so he doesn’t, and so he thinks of how to keep his hold on you, and then he thinks of why he even wants to-

The truth is too apparent to deny.

After a week, he calls.

***

He’s very slow.

Not tired- just consumed with the sudden need to savor things. When you let yourself into his arms, Ransom treats you like you’re fragile.

“What’s up with you?” you ask, and as he stares, your voice reduces to something small. You go timid when his eyes are on yours, he realizes, and the thought sends a thrill through his body- he slowly rocks you, to calm himself.

Your shirt is off and you wear a bra with a small lace trim- not racy, but very cute- and he just keeps on staring.  

Wow, he thinks. He fucked up good.

“Nothing,” he says, and moves one hand from your waist- he has you in his lap, straddling him- up to the top of your neck. He trails down and over to your collarbone, hooking a finger into your bra strap.

You laugh, breathy and indecent.

He lifts it, subtly, and you whine, and he bites back his own.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, and kisses your neck. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Ransom,” you gasp, with your hands splayed over his back. He slowly skims his hand over, to your back, feeling every little thing, dip and contour and curve, everything- and then unhooks it, and you are bared to him and he is breathless.

He takes you by the shoulders and twists, to bring you down, to pin you against the bed. Your comforter is dark blue, like ocean water.

Your eyes are endless, like ocean water.

“Are you upset about something?” 

Your chest rises and falls and he almost reaches for the waistband of your underwear, but stops himself. He presses a wet kiss to one of your breasts, and you arch into his mouth. He feels like you know every single secret of his, when he has told you none.

You know by accident that he’s ticklish. That’s it.

“I’m not,” he says. “I promise.”

He bends low to kiss down the length of your body, repositions his hands to hold your waist. He thinks that this is more intense- it is just his mouth and your skin and the sound of your breath hitching.

He still has it put together, remarkably well- unfathomably well.

“I feel like there’s something you’re- ah- not telling me, honey.”

That does it.

He grips your waist harder, in the way he knows you always like, so that tomorrow he will be able to retrace his steps, follow the blue-

“Say that again,” he says, and presses a soft kiss over you- even through your underwear, with its delicate lace trim, he can feel how wet and wanting and ready you are for him.

“Say- fuck- say what?”

Your hand flails, for a second, before you thread it through his hair, and yank. It hurts, pleasantly.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and shimmies it down your thighs, and you instinctively spread your legs. He puts his mouth to your slit, slicker than he imagined, and the heady arousal rushing through his mind- and everywhere else- is nearly enough to make him forget what you even said-

He is quite possibly drunk off of you alone, and he wants to slap himself, and, like, press you so close into him that you forget your way out.

With the spare glow of one lamp, you look like you’re made of gold.

He breaks away from you for a terrible moment to strip, and with one hand he teases your clit, and with the other he pumps himself, hard, once, twice, three times in anticipation-

“Don’t make me ask again,” he says, and comes back up to cup your face once more, and slips his hand back down into you at the same time, with his cock hard against your thigh- this is all quite slippery- the game you’re playing at and the risk he’s trying to take-

“Honey,” you say, and you’re smiling deliriously, but shakily. “Honey honey honey.”

“You’re killing me,” he says, and his voice, in a moment of terrible, vulnerable, unspeakable betrayal, cracks. 

“Good,” you say, but your voice is all wobbly as he lines himself up and roughly pushes into you, holding you a little tighter to keep you steady. “You deserve it.”

He kisses you openmouthed, with his teeth scraping- it’s rough and jarring, the way you always take it. Against his mouth, you swear incoherently, stringing together a litany of curses with his name thrown in between, and goddamn him- it makes him smile.

He wastes no time- he can’t be patient any longer, not when he has you under him like this, and so he goes fast, snapping into you at a bruising pace and keeping his mouth close, and rubbing at your clit, to overstimulate you and make everything faster, harsher, more immediate-

When you come you always say his name, thickly with gravel in your voice, and gasp like the breath has been stolen from your lungs. This time, when you are so far gone that he thinks you’re beyond the realms of sound, and sight, too, with your eyes tightly screwed shut, he says it, for the sake of himself.

“I think I love you-”

[love4hobi]

bts is holding him back lmfao don't bother calling yourself an army from now on 💀

i havent claimed to be that for a while.. although i do still listen to their music and solo stuff which to normal people would be more than enough to classify me as a fan lmao

but even though i doubt youre even going hear me out at all, im gonna use your ask to sort of clarify what i was talking about the other day for anyone willing to listen. because although i am currently only interested in "stanning" jhope (which by the way is a completely normal thing to do, literally armys are the only people who demonize so heavily the idea of only caring for one member of group) i do feel like the things i said came off a bit harsher than i meant and believe it or not i really dont have anything against the individual bts members

most of the people that are all upset about me being a "solo stan" are probably to far deep into that cult mindset to bother trying to understand what i have to say but im going to try anyway. and i really hope that u could at least try to read it with an open mind.

first of all, when i said i need bts stop holding jhope back, i would like to correct myself in that what i should have said was that i need HYBE to stop holding him back, because i honestly feel that all the members of bts are being equally fucked over by how hybe has chosen to handle this hiatus, their solo careers, and basically the last 2 years of their career. and i dont think they have as much of say in how these things happen as people think. if u dont mind id like to bring in a visual aid 👍

now although this is just an estimation of what the next few years will look like and some little details might be switched up, i think it still gives u a good idea of how things will probably play out. literally all i meant by "bts is holding him back" is that weve been waiting since 2018/2019 for new jhope music and now that this rushed and poorly promoted release of jack in the box is over he wont be able to release anything until like 2025 at the very least. and its because hybe is going to have every other member release solo projects consecutively regardless of whether they are genuinely organically at a place of being ready to release solo music, all in order to get them back as a group as fast as possible to increase profit again. meanwhile jhope is at the top of his popularity right now following hobipalooza and yet his solo era is officially over now and he will most likely be radio silent for the next few years.

there are so many things that frustrate me about how this has all played out. first of all the fact that their enlistment was pushed back so far that it has now come at arguably the worst time in their careers. hybe SHOULD HAVE had them enlisting or putting amout solo projects as soon as the pandemic ramped up instead of forcing them to release some of the worst songs in their discography, causing them to feel burnt out and that theyve lost their direction (which is literally exactly what they said in the festa video so dont even try to say im twisting their words). as someone who still genuinely enjoys bts' pre-pandemic music, i will never understand why some fans standards are low enough to think that their releases after mots7 compare to their previous music at all

but regardless of how i feel about their recent releases, hybe has been holding jhope back since mic drop. he has been consistently getting the least amount of lines and center time, to the point where he was able to showcase more of who he is as an artist in this past month of his solo release and with his lollapalooza performance than he has in the last several years as a member of bts. i dont care if youre a "solo stan" or not, you cant argue that. how can it possibly be good for someones development as an artist to always be pushed to the side like that. he has even talked in an interview before about actively holding himself back as to match the level of the other members.

he had less than 5 total minutes of lines for the entire set list of the permission to dance on stage concerts. hybe has one of the best dancers in the industry under their roof and yet theyve had him locked up in the basement since mots7 doing such simple choreo. and now, just as he finally starting to gain some recognition as a solo artist, he will be radio silent for the next 3 years AT LEAST.

now as for what i said about the rest of bts not being on jhopes level when it comes to performances, i realize that it probably sounded harsher than i meant it. but its honestly nothing against the other members, there are very few idols or artists in general that could have put on the sort of performance that jhope did at lollapalooza. its not a bad thing that someone like jimins excels more in a group performance (which hes said himself), or that people like rm and suga arent as much performers as they are producers and song writers. but its also not fair that jhope should have to be held back from his full potential within the group because of that

anyway, the point of everything ive said is that its not the bts members im referring to when i said bts is holding jhope back, its the way hybe treats them as a unit even when it comes to their solo projects. there was so much demand for jhope at lollapalooza he could easily being doing like a tour right now or other sorts of performances, literally any sort of promo like that, but hes not able to because hybe is holding him back and his solo era that weve been waiting years for was literally over within less than a month with the absolute bare minimum promotion on hybes end and we will most likely not see much of him anytime soon. so i hope you can understand why as someone whos a fan of him, thats a bit frustrating to me.

bts have had a good run as a group, i really do still like listening to their old music and watching their performances. and if in the future any of them do release a solo project that piques my interest id like to think that id be free to express my interest in it on my blog without being boxed in to the term "solo stan". but the way hybe treats them as a they exist as a group is clearly not productive for any of them anymore and only benefits the company in the form of profit. and if youre too far up their asses to see that then i dont know what to tell u

[oblivious-nuisance]

ꨄ 𝐀𝐒𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐒

BUNGŌ STRAY DOGS VERSION (part 2 – ADA)

↳ includes: tanizaki jun'ichirō, edogawa ranpo, fukuzawa yukichi, tayama katai

a/n: the other ada fellas' preferences, since y'all really enjoyed part 1 :> also stinky man katai is here bc i got weirdly attached to him for the short amout of time that he appeared on screen so yeah <3

warnings: fluff and smut, gn/fem!reader (?), butt pats lmao, mentions of: thigh highs, garters, one (1) use of the word "cunt", oral (f.recieving), praise kink, authoritarian kink

— TANIZAKI

thigh man through and through. he thinks they're so soft and full and pretty, he loves tracing patterns with his nimble fingers over the flesh. another thing he loves about your thighs is the way you wrap them around his middle when he fucks you ruthlessly into the matress, he lives for the warm feeling that your skin provides against his. he really likes seeing your legs clad in thigh highs, but cheeky black garters drive him absolutely feral (give him a peek at work and he's breaking your back in the nearest bathroom, no questions asked 💅). OH AND HE LOVES SLAPPING YOUR THIGH WHEN YOU MISBEHAVE HE'S SUCH A CUNT

— RANPO

ass or thighs. in all honesty, he loves all of you and he can't get enough. but if he'd really have to choose, he'd be quite happy with the idea of being buried between your thighs, with his hands groping your ass tightly as he's tongue-fucking you into oblivion. he just loves the feeling of your thighs clamping down on his face, it gives him a sense of power (and if you mix it with some praise on your part, you already know you won't be walking properly tomorrow bestie 😃). WILL go crazy if you start wearing short plaid skirts, but be prepared tho bc now you've unlocked hard dom ranpo uwu (which translates to him baisically cornering you somewhere in his office preferably somewhere where the two of you could get caught and expressing just in how much trouble you are for wearing something quite inappropriate at work, so that he could then proceed to degrade and humiliate you, while ruthlessly pounding into your sore pussy, all while dazai, yosano and the others are in the room next door °v°)

— FUKUZAWA

ASS. apart from the huge authoritarian kink he's got, the mans just straight-up likes how it looks. it's so round and soft, so don't be surprised if you find him laying his head on your bum after a long day, as the both of you are splayed out on your shared bed. oh and he's so into butt pats. you cook that delicious omlette one sunday morning? butt pat. you prepare a nice, hot bath for when he comes all drained and exhausted from work? butt pat. you get a clean, straight shot right in-between the eyes (of a dummy, ofc)? b u t t p a t. the only misfortune was that most of the ADA staff was also there while you received said butt pat (thank god that kenji and kyōka were downstairs with kunikida). haruno just blushed furiously and pretended not to have witnessed such an intimate moment, but ranpo never let you hear the end of it for a while.

BONUS — KATAI

boob man boob man boob man. the only other safe place for him (other than yoshiko) is literally between your breasts. loves the warmth and comfort that they provide, especially when the both of you are lying in his futon. believe it or not, it really helps him concentrate when he's sucking on your tiddies, most of the time not even in a sexual way (although, more often than not, it gets to that point, since you're perched on his lap so nicely, wearing nothing but a soft yukata that's slowly sliding off your shoulders). oh and he loves taking baths with you since he can rest his head on your glistening chest. mans literally living the dream <3

©oblivious-nuisance - all rights reserved

no translations, edits, copying, reposting etc.

[qsmp-slime]

Tell us about Homestuck! /gen

Vi tried reading it a few years back but couldn't click with it.

– Quackity 🎲

OHHHHHHHHHHHHH M Y god okay. ok. mutuals prepare for usch cringe on main.

okay so i know the whle joke is like, homestuck is massively convoluted and confusing and it IS. it so is. however the simplest way i can put the plot:

four human kids - john egbert, rose lalonde, jade harley, and dave strider - are kinda introduced in a normal day for them. the comic starts on john's birthday, april 13, in 2006, specifically, where he's excited because he is getting a beta of a new video game, sburb, in the mail, and convinced his friends (the other three kids) to do the same. (other kids are varying degrees of excited about this. dave thinks its stupid as hell, as he does most things at this point, rose is mildly intrigued, etc.)

a bunch of random shit happens throughout that is GOING to make it incredibly convoluted to explain so i wont currently. its also worth noting right now, all four kids live in varying points of the earth - john lives in washington, dave in texas, rose in new york, and jade.... somewhere vaguely on a pacific island. i dont think an *actual* one is ever stated, and she and her grandfather live alone *on* said island, so. yeah. but relating to this, the main dialogue throughout a good large amout of the comic take place through a chat client, btw.

after you get acquainted with the kids and see the bullshit that is their daily lives, then Fuck Shit Happens. aka after all the bullshit, they manage to actually start the game.

and it Ends the Fucking World. /srs

yeah, so, the game is magically fucking linked to real life, anything done in the game affects the actual, real world environment the kids live in. this culminates in, alongside the game mechanics, a fucking meteor shower that eventually ends the world.

(all the kids end up entering the "medium", which is the word the game itself takes place in.)

oh yeah and theyve also been getting vaguely-harassed by various mysterious characters throughout this that call themselves "trolls".

these trolls are literal aliens, an alien species actually CALLED trolls. they live on a planet called alternia, which is a fuckin.. idk would dystopia work? its fucked is what im getting at.

they are ALSO playing THEIR version of the game, sgrub, except theres twelve of them - one corresponding to each zodiac sign (and, in the comic, each zodiac sign thusly corresponds to a blood color / caste.)

eventually the sessions link up and the kids and trolls actually have to try and get along for five goddamn seconds to create a *new* world. nope, not save theirs! make a *new* one.

theres a bunch of other shit and game mechanics throughout but thats the general gist of the story?

honestly we havent finished the entire comic and our personal favourite things to talk about are the worldbuilding / game mechaics of sburb and stuff. we're helping our partner make a homestuck au for lifestealsmp and we are having the time of our fucking life we love this shit. there is so much to talk about in regards to what makes the characters and stuff and what about them effects the world and everything else.

[shadyteacup]

Hi! I just read your angst with Chuuya and Dazai, and my God wasn’t that a tasty, juicy, beautiful angst. I LOVED IT. I would love to see a Kunikida x Reader angst from your pen (because I love torturing myself). Kunikida is in love with the reader, but he refuses to accept his feelings and distances himself from her every passing day, and he has to endure the suffering of losing her to Dazai as he sees that they grow closer and closer (romantically) every day.

I hope this idea inspires you 💕

Did someone say torture👀😏 I love hurting myself n others by writing angst, n baby, this is an AMAZING idea.. the amout of pain..wow😈

Kunikida doppo x fem! Reader x Osamu Dazai

Warnings: angst, bit of fluff, but mostly angst, slight swearing.

Word count: 1,557

Biggest Mistake

"Good morning, Kunikida-san!"

You greet him as you walk in the office.

He merely grunts in reply. Your heart pains at this. Were you so non-ideal for him? Did you not fulfill even one of the qualities of his ideal woman? Whenever you tried talking to him, he would shut you out. Does he hate you? If yes, then why? Did you do something to offend him?

You sigh, walking over to your desk. The air was getting awkward, and it didn't help that you both were the only ones here.

Then again, maybe Kunikida wasn't feeling awkward at all. He just simply doesn't care.

Taking out your laptop from the bag, you set it up on the desk. You had a few files to submit by the end of today. They would take up atleast two hours of your time. If you got started now, you could have the rest of the day to fool around.

You opened it, but couldn't bring yourself to start your work. You logged into your Gmail to pass time, instead.

From: handsomebrunette@gmail.com

Hello belladonna!

I am writing this to you to get permission from you. May I please have the permission to rob you of an hour of your day, today?

Love,

Mr. Handsome

You giggled at his antics.

Reply to handsomebrunette@gmail.com

Hello Mr. Handsome,

Are you proposing a date?

Love(?),

The Woman ;)

You have never had a dull moment with Dazai before. Ever since he has set his mind to woo you, you have had quite an interesting time. He obviously liked you. Did you like him back?

Well, earlier, not really. Your heart used to belong to Kunikida. But he never seemed to give a rat's ass about you. So you tried to move on. That's when you realized just how charming your other coworker is.

At first, it felt wrong to like Dazai in a romantic way. You had just been heartbroken over the fact that your long time crush just doesn't like you, and pursuing Dazai felt like you were making him a replacement.

But then again, you had never even told Kunikida that you liked him, so he had never actually 'rejected' you. He only conveyed it through his actions and rude comments. You even thought that maybe he's just a tsundere, but soon realized that the man just doesn't like you at all.

Dazai was quick to realize what was going on. At first, he had tried to bring you two together by using his tricks, like forcing Kunikida into the same room as you and locking it from the outside, pretending to have pranked him and not realized that someone else was already in there. He had tried to get Kunikida to open up to you, too. But that man was born with a stick up his ass, and even Dazai's manipulative schemes weren't enough to make him confess. Dazai knew that Kunikida actually liked you back. He was well aware of his colleague's affections and the fact that he was going through a denial phase. Kunikida couldn't accept that he liked you because he still had a few years left to find himself a wife. His ideals prevented him from wooing you. Besides, he was not one to be crystal clear about his emotions. So he pushed you away. Whenever you tried to talk to him, or approach him, he would push you away with his rude words.

Dazai, obviously, understood that. He also knew that if you tried hard enough, you could get Kunikida to open up. But that was a tiring path to take. It would drain you of your mental peace, and by the time Kunikida actually accepts his feelings for you, you would be too tired to give a fuck. You'd have given up by then. It would break your heart and torture your sanity.

Dazai would be there for you, if you decide to choose that path, that is, but he also liked you. He had liked you ever since you joined the ada. He hadn't approached you yet, because he was aware of his coworker's feelings. He respected Kunikida's emotions, and had decided to back off. But there were so many times when he wanted to abandon his respect for the blonde, and just confess to you. He was slowly falling for you, and he knew that it scared him, but he couldn't live another day knowing that he was sacrificing a chance of being with someone he truly adores, for a man who wasn't even ready to admit that he has feelings for you. He couldn't do that. He loved you a bit too much.

So he decided to fuck Kunikida's feelings and stupid decisions, and just woo you himself. If you reject him, he would be fine, because atleast he tried. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't even try.

He was pleasantly surprised to watch how you fell for him over the days. He could notice how you changed bit by bit, blushing at things that you would have laughed off earlier. You both were really close friends before he started flirting with you, and it was funny watching you get flustered at things that he used to do often as a friend.

Such as now. He was standing outside the office, peeking in through a crack in the doorway. He watched as you read his email and grinned, your ears turning red. You typed a quick reply, and sat with your chin on your palm, your eyes dreamy.

He watched you and subconsciously smiled at your adorable face.

He read your reply on his phone, and smirked at the sherlock reference. Both of you had binge watched the entire series together.

Reply to justanotherhooman@gmail.com

Dearest woman,

That's quite bold of you! If you so desire to go on a date with this handsome man, who is he to deny the wish of such a beautiful woman? I shall pick you up at 1pm. Be ready, dearest.

Love,

Mr. Handsome ♡

He watched you read his reply and shake your head, amused at his choice of words. He then decided to make an entrance.

"Good morning Bella! And you too, Kunikida-kun."

He smiled at you.

You greeted him, and smirked.

"So, Mr. Handsome, you mean to drag me out of here at 1, but where do you intend to take me?"

He smirked back at you, leaning on his elbows on your desk, closing majority of the space between your faces.

"Where do you want me to take you, hmm?"

He was so close to you, you could feel his breath on your face. You gulped at the intoxicating aura that this man carried.

"Where do you have in mind?"

He lifted one palm, and traced a pattern on your cheek with his finger. He traced the shape of your lips, making you part them slightly. Licking his own lips at the sight, he began leaning closer to you, eyes focused on your rosy lips.

Just as he was about to reach his destination, Kunikida cleared his throat.

"Get to work, both of you."

You both parted, looking away. You were beyond embarrassed. But you were also angry. You wanted to know what was going to happen, although you had a slight idea. You hated Kunikida for interrupting you.

Kunikida couldn't bear to watch what would have happened if he hadn't intervened. He couldn't bear to see you kiss another man. He knew that he was being stupid, but he just couldn't loose you. He wanted to confess to you, too. He had realized that he loved you, but it was too late now. You had already given up on him, and had found Dazai. He couldn't ruin it for you now. So he ignored you when you greeted him, shouted at you even though you didn't do anything wrong and gave you the cold shoulder to keep you away. Besides, you looked happy pursuing Dazai. Maybe he was the right man for you. It pained Kunikida to think this way, but it was the truth. You were better off with someone else. Maybe he just isn't right for you.

As he watched you and Dazai smile at each other from your positions on your respective desks, he couldn't help but notice your blush. You used to blush at his actions earlier. Now you don't even smile at him. He is the one to blame for that. But he felt a pang in chest, anyway.

Watching you with Dazai would suck all the happiness out of him. He would forever mourn the fact that he let you go. He ruined a potential relationship. Only now does he realize just how much he cares for you. Now, he could never have have you.

Abruptly standing up, Kunikida walked over to the washroom, avoiding any of your gazes.

Closing the door behind him, he took off his glasses, placing them in his front pocket.

Gripping the basin, he leaned into it to support himself. He looked into the mirror, and saw a defeated man look back at him, with blonde hair and tired eyes, desperately holding back his tears. What a pathetic state he has brought himself to. If only he had loved you before.

[tomdiddlyumptious]

A.R| just cry already

Summary: you and cloudy have a little talk just to interrupt your mom and dad- then your dad pulls the asshole card

Warning: uh- parents ##### (just some moaning)- uh language and violence- unedited- my editor is slakin 🥱✨

Chapter one -> one✨ two 🤠 three ✨ four 🤠 five

“Hey you like that arvin guy?” You ask, on the rode going to the meat store. He looks at you and gives you a innocent nod.

“Yeah, do you like him?” “Yeah but hes a white boy, who knows whats next eh?” He nods knowing where your coming from. “Undertandable” “are kids messing with you?” He looks at you, hesitant to answer.

“N-no-“ “dont you lie to me boy, spit it” you give him an eyebrow raise as a warning, he sighs and throws himself back in the seat with his head leaning on it before he turns to you “fine- yeah” “im not gonna tell anyone, and you are a strong black boy- use those guns you got” you giggle and reach over to squeeze his arm. “I cant, ill get in trouble” “ah i forgot about that, how bout you hang out with that nice girl- lenora” “i can see- i hope your not falling for no white boy y/n”

“You in my business” you roll your eyes as he chuckles. “Hey cloud” “hmm?” “I love you” you smile looking at him. “I love you too- ew im never saying that again” you gasp as you ask him why “it just gave me the chills” “welp here we are, go get us some steak will ya?” You hand him the money.

In this racist town you and your family are money motivated, even though some didnt like it you hustled, everone was suprised when your family got the newest car. Eveb if your dad, your mom got less amout of money then others.

“No wonder why he likes to hit her- hes stressed” you shake your head. “Whats up-nigger, you still in this town?” A man says, or a stupid man thats your age, young. You got startled as they got in next to you “get the fuck out of my car!” You say as he reaches over to pull your hair. “Fuckin-“ before he could finish cloudy grabbed him and yanked him out of the car, through the window as he landed on the floor and socked him hard across the face twice, hearing his jaw break as cloudy quickly through the meat in and jumped in.

“DRIVE” you hurry a step on it. “Fuck” you whisper as you head home. “God dammit why cant they just leave us alone- i cant fucking do this all the time” “you wont have to- i promise ill get you out of here” “promise?” You nod as you soflty grab his hand “with you, mama, and anyone else who needs it. We will leave this town and live a nice life”

The rest of the drive was silent as you headed home. You both got out as you grabbed the frozen meat, you grabbed the keys from your bra and unlocked the door, stepping inside and hearing loud moans.

You sigh as you throw the meat in the sink and of course they hear, “shit their home” you dad says as you guess he gets himself together, he steps into the kitchen where you and cloudy are, the only thing he says is “what happened to you, cloud” cloudy sighs as he lifts up his hand showing his purple knuckles “i got into a fight” “im proud if you boy” he says, you whisper “thats the first” “what was that, y/n?” You swallow as you look at your dad.

“Im quite the thirst, do we have any water here? I also got some meat” “of course we do, hunny can you give her some water”

“Yeah” your mother walks out, fixing her frizzy hair as she grabs a glass of water and hands it to you. “Mom are you okay?” You ask as you see purple finger prints on her neck. “Shes fine, take the water and drink it”

Your dad interrupted.

“Sorry” you clear your throat “so uh. Hows everyone?” “Fine” they all said together. “We are going to church” you father stated, everyone else in the room looking at him as if hes crazy.

“Theres a whole lot of white people in there, are you sure?” “Yeah, thats why i got the steak, we are a family and we deserve equality like everyone else” “not everyones gonna listen to you, dad please” you beg him with pleading eyes. He makes eye contact with your pleading eyes, losing he sighs “we are only going once” your mother sighed in relief.

Arvin is currently at the store with his grandmother, a man sitting on a stool with a ice pack on his cheek.

“Yeah, i dont know who punched me but i was trying to talk to that girl”

“What girl?”

“The nigger”

Arvins jaw clenched as he tried to stop listening, anger fusing in his viens when he barely knew the girl.

“This is just tragic” his grandmother whispered, sighing as she picked up the chiken.

“Yeah it sure is” arvin murmered back.

After they went in the car arvin turned to his grandmother. “Hey grandma” he asks her, she looks at him telling him to continue “do you like uh- colored people?” He asks, avoiding the disrespectful word. “Well what do you mean?” “You know, darker then us” she nods and starts to give her answer.

“Yeah, i see nothin wrong with them. I dont know why others dont. Why arvin? You like that girl dont you” she gives him a smile. “I think i just might” he smiles as he starts to drive home.

[shra-vasti]

YOON JEONGHAN

Series : To all the boys

Pairing : Yoon Jeonghan x reader

Type : non idol au, ex-lovers au

Genre : angst, drama, fluff, romance

Warnings : one curse word lol

Word count : 1k approx

Synopsis : You decided to write some letters to every boy who was a part of your past as your last message after getting diagnosed with chronical disease.

MAIN MASTERLIST

[Received, 15.10.2020] | next

"They have got to be kidding me, giving us such horrendous amout of assignments."

Jeonghan's room was nothing but a nightmare of any university student, papers splayed across the whole floor, important files being kept neatly at one side of him, laptop with multiple tabs open on his laps.

He didn't even bring his coffee inside his room just in case he trips on it and it spills on all of the hardwork he has been doing from the past week.

He gathered all of the things and neatly stacked it in his desk, falling onto his bed he let out a loud whine of relief that finally all of his work was done.

He stayed like that for few minutes before reaching out for his phone to open up his socials.

Jihyun : don't forget to eat your meal, I don't want you to skip it while you drown yourself in work, love you.

"You know I will eat my food no matter what why bother being so worried."

He, instead of replying just shut down the chat room and wondered out loud throwing his phone beside him.

He has been dating Jihyun for a little over 5 years now and yet he wasn't as interested in her as he used to be years prior when they first started dating, well after meeting you to be precise.

Jihyun wasn't fun, she didn't challenge his head, she never doubted his actions, always blindly trusted him when he himself knew he didn't deserve to be trusted.

And that was boring, he wanted a relationship where he could playfully banter with his significant other, where his partner would be as sarcastic as he was and always had a comeback to his remarks but Jihyun wasn't like that, she always apologized for everything even when it wasn't her fault.

Maybe that's the reason he still yearned for you, maybe that's the reason he every now and then had this urgent urge to hold you in his arms like he used to.

"I can't believe I have a girlfriend who would give me world and here I am sulking over how after our breakup I'm the one who's always reaching out to you and beg you to talk with me y/n."

He reached his phone again as he opened up your messages, he scrolled up to see only his messages asking if you had a time to spare to talk with him from your busy schedule, which he knew wasn't so busy and you were just ignoring him.

You had deleted his contact but never blocked him letting him be in the delimma of always being a message away from you yet he knew you were gone far away from that.

You're heartless, he concluded. He made you heartless and he was proud of it but he wasn't ready to be the victim of it and experience it in first hand.

How could you be so merciless with someone to whom you've shown your softest side possible? You didn't back away from accusing him for your anxieties and low self esteem and he genuinely felt awful for treating you the way he did.

But that didn't mean for you to cut him off from your life like that, he still wanted to be your go to person, he still wanted to be your first priority, someone you would look up to when you were upset because he knew you would never let anyone see that side of you.

He wanted to be the shoulder you could cry on, he wanted to be with you and wipe your tears away, fuck, he wanted to be in relationship with you again if it wasn't so impossible.

He sighed, he was once again getting lost in the thoughts of you, he always hoped you would reach out to him and tell him that you're ready to take him back, he would leave everyone else for you.

You were his rock and he hates himself for letting you go easily and taking you for granted. He got up from his bed to make a coffee for himself and relax.

It was always like this, he had been getting lost in the thoughts of you for a quite while now and even though he knew it was natural for him to miss someone who was so dear to him, past weeks have been way too difficult for him.

It was like he was yearning for you not only emotionally but he wanted to feel you physically, he wanted to hold you in his arms and cry about how difficult university life has been like he used to.

Ofcourse he did have Jihyun for that but all that girl do is give him sympathy and tell him she's there for him but he doesn't want that.

He wants her to cradle his lap and kiss him senseless so he would forget about his tensions for a good time and then hug him tight stroking his hair and distracting him before calming his nerves by talking his problem out with him and coming up with a solution, something he got habitual to when he was with you.

But she wasn't you and he was starting to realize it more as the time slipped through his hands. He did everything he could to keep you by his side and he was starting to doubt why he wanted to keep up the burn-out flame of his and Jihyun's relationship when he had someone as amazing as you.

He didn't wanted to break off with Jihyun cause she was his first love and she never treated him wrong but he realized late that in the long run he didn't want someone as naive as Jihyun to be with. She couldn't handle him although she was trying her best, she just couldn't.

He made his way towards the couch in the living room to drink his coffee leisurely when his eyes landed on an envelope.

He doesn't remember receiving a mail as he wondered if it was of Jihyun since she had spent whole day with him yesterday.

He called her before touching the envelope.

"Jeonghan, you wanted something? Are you stressed? Want me to bring something?"

He closed his eyes momentarily, she was always too worried about him and he didn't like it, he rather preferred being babied by you cause you didn't like babeing people.

"Nope, but stop worrying too much please, I'm not a baby, plus I called you to ask if you by any chance have left an envelope of yours on my table?"

"Ohh the envelope it isn't mine but its addressed in your name-"

He cut off the call throwing his phone to the side as he reached it, reading his name on the envelope he knew it had to be you, there's no way it wasn't you. He knew you.

The smile which he wore was starting to make his cheeks hurt but all he cared was about the envelope and your handwriting.

He tore the envelope taking out its content to see two letters and a sticky note fall out on his lap.

"You're still the same, you have your own unique ways of expressing."

📩 Yoon Jeonghan. I know, when you touched this letter you knew it was from me and I can imagine you smiling widely while reading this. See, how beautiful I made your world. Why Jeonghan? Why did you break me? I've been stuck up on you way more than the time we have spent together. Why did you do that?

He smiled ironically, he was breaking too, he had been stuck up on you way more than you did, you indeed made his world beautiful and he beat himself up regularly for playing with your heart.

"I love you y/n and I hope your stubborn heart would realize it soon, you don't want to accept that fact because you're scared but why would you suddenly send me a letter? It's making me feel scared, the sickening feeling inside my stomach isn't helping at all, I hope you're fine."

[unik0rnu]

Page 2 - Initiation - Pre-war memories of Lucy Feit

The month passed since Lucy worked along with Harrison on nasty or weird cases that logic explanation was barely to be found there but gladly Harrison was already an expert on that and Lucy was open minded for even the craziest possibilities. At first he would wish to muzzle her snarky and uncareful mouth when asking questions around the crime scenes but eventually she got some of his words seriously and tuned down her attitude. He couldn’t blame her, being young and with less care than ever before, laying low enough just to keep her head on the neck.

Harrison became eventually like a mentor to her, a bit rough in his approach but it kept her impulsive nature at check. She had trust in his experience and she felt that behind his tough and roughed skin lies a softer man who just got highly disappointed at some chapter in his life and threw it all away just to do things his own dirty way.

- Sir, i finished the report. I came up with something since...idea of a robot looking exactly like our suspect feels a bit...off. She snapped a paper from a machine and handed it to Harrison.

Her desk was placed behind the wall sharing the room in his office and he even gave her the same comfortable leather chair as he had instead of these hard wooden ones since she got hooked up on a job. It was kind of big for her size but oh boy she could almost fall asleep in it when working late.

-Good job Feit. Good to see u are not a total failure afterall. He looked over the paper and added it to the rest of the records in a file. As she walked away back to her desk he took a few seconds of thought.

-Feit, come back for a second. I might have a special job for you from the Boss this time but only if you are one hundred procent sure u can pull this off. He pulled a photo and a crumbled note out of his jacket pocket.

- Really? My first real task from... down there? She was surprised that they would give her a try already but also a bit nervous.

- Consider that your trust ticket that you will be the right person for the real job. She reached slowly towards the photo but Harrison pulled it back.

- But that is serious Feit, no mistakes, no japing around, u do what you are told to do or you and me gonna have a problem. She nodded and stood placing the hands behind her back.

-Alright...this man is gonna be tonight as Sapphire night club, they already figured out his routine, where hes going, when. He somehow got his hands on a holotape with a list of some of our boys down there, today and he intends to use this. He handed her a photo of a middle aged man with a balding head, slightly more chubby. Nightmare of every secretary if that is their boss.

- I..know him. He was working few rooms away from me. Always bothering women around ugh, i never liked him. She folded a photo and slipped it in the pocket in her pants.

- That is why you gonna go tonight to that club, present yourself to a barman as a new worker and get that holotape from him, i don’t care how, just do it without him noticing. Also if u pull this off Sapphire is going to be your second base where u gonna join a girl named...Rosey on collecting data and other things we might need there. Barman, one of bodyguards and her are our people from the Boss so don’t talk to anyone else. He opened a bottle of whiskey and poured himself half a glass.

- Sapphire...isn’t that actually a strip club? You want me to be a stripper now?! She looked at him lowering a corner of her lips and squinting an eye.

- Cool down Feit, not a stripper. Rosey is already a one whore too many there. You gonna be her assistant...u know powdering her ass for a show and making sure the girls have all they need while charming the clients around and steal their shit for us, be it items or words. He took a sip talking about it as calmly as about a weather.

- I would also get used to heels and booze at your place if u gonna stick around there and i think amout of money u might get there will compensate for...struggle. He saw her smiling softy back when he mentioned a payment. She never had a chance to experience a luxury like that in her life that. Leaving her careless parents to a one room shitty apartment and climbing the ladder to a slightly more decent life. And she didn’t last long at the court neither so the smell of money was the one her nose was lurking for.

-Stop dreaming and move Feit! I want to see you with that holotape before the morning. He shooed her with a hand and came back to his files.

------

Gladly Ian was also taking a night shift so she didn’t have to come up with any excuse this time. Sapphire was a big night club placed a out of sight not very far away from the center. It had a wide parking area with tables outside and amount of neons that would give a dead one epilepsy. It was also very expensive one so only high or shady figures were coming there for a nice piece of ass and drink. And the club also respected privacy of their clients so no families even knew their husbands and wifes would lurk in such a place. Secrecy, luxury, beautiful women and money. Lucy saw one of bodyguards recognizing her and pointing with his head towards the back entrance. She took a right through narrow alley next to the building and entered the door that had a “Staff” sign written on it keeping her head low and face hidden beneath the hair.

She entered and to her surprise there was already a red haired tanned woman waiting for her, sitting on a bunch of beer boxes with a cigarette.

- They warned me you tend to be late so i lighted one. I’m Rosey. Want a smoke before the job? She pulled pack of out of her shiny bra.

- No...i should probably focus on a....actually you know what, sure. She pulled a smoke out of a pack and leaned down towards Rosey’s lighter. She had to get used with bad habits aswell if she was about to work in such a place.

- So how much u actually know about me? Lucy asked coughing a bit on a first puff.

- Enough to know that u might be just a girl for a job. Let’s go dress you up first. She stood up and guided Lucy through hallways filled with colorful rooms and lights and a smell of perfume.

- Isn’t it a bit suspicious for me to just come in here like that and work? I mean the manager doesn’t know....

- Look. She interrupted. - There is already so many girls and waitresses that anyone can barely keep up with it. And when u make this much money it tends to cover your sight on a situation. They entered her quarters. It was lighted with red and green gloomy lights, a dressing table filled with all kinds of jewelry and feathery scarfs , decorated with a huge mirror wearing a gold frame  along with a rack stuffed fully with skimpy and sparkly outfits. A room for star...but not star of movie but a strip show.

- That should fit you. And don’t forget the make up and a mask. We have a sort of carnival theme tonight. She handed her black sparkly skirt along with a fitting bra. Our target should be here soon.

- Alright, alright. Lucy took the clothes and hid behind the room screen to undress. - So what...brought u..u know, to this place and this job? She asked while pulling with all her strength the skirt on her tights jumping a bit in a process.

- Three words. Nothing-to-lose. I have no family and no one gives a shit about me anyway so i can do whatever the hell i want...and the money is good. She threw her a pair of heels that hit her in the head behind the screen.

-Ouch..good for you, i guess. At least u don’t have to lie to anyone, almost...

- Look at you, your lucky not to be a stripper or they would eat you alive. She chuckled as Lucy came out prepared, a bit stiff on the heels.

- So what’s the plan? I mean i know we are suppose to work together on this one. She spotted a bottle of booze on the table and shoved a sip down her throat to relax a bit and..to get used with yet one more bad habit as Harrison suggested her.

- Well, u go down and u just present yourself and tell him u have other special girl tonight since Tania got sick. Then i’m gonna take care of him and get that holotape and as we finish i will hand it to you. She explained as they left the room.

- Sounds too easy. Lucy pondered.

- Because it is that easy if u know how to charm...and lie..and steal shit swift enough. U will see soon enough. Rosey pushed her forward as their target entered a club.

--

Lucy pushed her breasts up and puffed her hair with hands before approaching their target.

- Mr Villin i assume? She approached man smiling with her teeth.

- Finally some service, direct me to Tania as usually honey. It’s already paid. He took a long look at her whole figure before taking the glasses off and hanging them on his pocket. He looked also high from drugs, his face all sweaty and red.

- I’m so sorry sir but Tania called in sick....but we have someone as wild and skilled as her. Please, let me direct you to her room, her name is Rosey. Lucy stroke a hair with a hand and winked at him feeling a deep disgust  inside but job needs to be done.

- Why didn’t they call me before then? Hmpf...ok fine. As they walked towards the guests private rooms he didn’t even try to hide he is staring at her ass swaying to the sides. - Aren’t u availble too honey? That ass of yours would look good on my....

- No sir, i’m making sure our girls are prepared for our every client’s desire. She interrupted before letting him finish his dirty thought and opened a door to a room where Rosey was already prepared for a private show.

- Shame...you would make a lot of money riding a rich man like me. She closed the room behind him and leaned against the wall waiting for the session to end. She could hear him calling her all the ugliest words woman could hear. 

- God..and that pig has a wife and kid. But suddenly a sound of struggle and choking reached her ears. She hesitated before peeking inside to not ruin Rosey plan but eventually looked inside.

- Get off me you fuck! He looked angry and high at the same time pushing her to the floor and choking her.

- I know what you trying to do you fucking whore! Yo..you fucking bitches are all the same. Money and dick ain’t enough for your cunt eh? He was angry and shaky from the high of drugs and booze.

Lucy shut and locked the door behind her. No one could know what's going on and they had no idea how he knew about the set up but something needed to be done and fast as he was out of control. The hatred towards this man finally found a release as she saw Rosey choking and struggling under his big cushy sweaty body. She shattered a bottle and stabbed him in the back repeatedly until he released Rosey and fell on his side. Just Lucy didn’t stop there. She sat on his chest and placed a glass shard in her both hands, shoving it down right in his throat few times. The blood spilled onto her face and chest.

- Fucking hell! Rosey grabbed a towel and covered his mouth along with a neck to not let any sounds leave his mouth while he was bleeding out. Lucy was breathing heavly and fast, frozen, the blood dripping from her hands and face. She killed someone for the first time.  

- It was not suppose to happen like that, shit shit..we need to do something. Rosey was wiping the blood from the floor aswell. Luckily there was no carpet. Something in Lucy mind shifted and her face turned from shocked to focused as she pulled herself up.

- Did he come with a car? She asked while going through dead man clothes left on a couch looking for a holotape and a keys.

-Yes, its parked right by the back entrance since front was full. Why? She clumped all the bloody towels together and looked at her.

- We..need to take him out, get him into car and drive away somewhere, get rid of the body, clothes, everything. Rosey nodded and peeked outside the room to make sure no one will see them carrying him outside. Luckly their bodyguard was not so far away so she could give the signal to distract the rest for a while.

- Fucking hell, he’s heavy. They struggled a lot but managed to pack him into his car eventually, shoving him into the back seat low enough to hide him out of the view and covering him with his clothes. They packed all the dirty towels into the baggage.

- Can you drive? Lucy asked while handing her a jacket to cover themselves a bit.

- I’m your girl. But you will have to get a license too eventually if this is how you do your bloody job. My god...he starts to stink, lets hurry. Rosey was not happy, she usually never let the plans go in this manner but she was lucky to have a backup that night.

- Thanks for help. He was bloody heavy and aggressive as fuck. Her face softened as they drove his car outside towards the nearest empty cliff.

- Don’t mention it...it was an impulse and since we will work together it would be shame to fuck it up on a first day like that eh? She wiped the blood from her face and sighted.

- You okay? I mean i know you saw blood and shit with Harrison but i don’t think you ever killed anyone before like that? Rosey looked at her with a concern.

- I’m fine...i will be fine. I mean, i know what i agreed to so..i will just swallow it and move on right? As they arrived to a cliff Lucy pulled a small gas canister and started emptying it all over the car sits and dead body.

- That’s my girl. You will be okay. Do you think tho Harrison will be angry? It kind of came out of hand. They let the car drive itself towards the cliff and crash down in a fire as it hit the rocks, burning down everything away.

- Kind of is a small word for what just happened. But how he knew? Lucy asked as they drank the rest of the whiskey that was left in a bottle they took with them.

- I have no idea but i’m glad you were there. Most important is that we have holotape and we cover all tracks from this night. Lets find a pick up and go back.

-----

Sun didn’t raise yet, it was still very early so Lucy kept her word to get the holotape to the office on time. Her face cleaned from all the make up but tired and pale from a whole night of work.

- I got the holotape and...well.. Lucy approached Harrison standing silently in his office with a back towards her.  

- You had one job Feit, get the fucking holotape and leave! He turned around abruptly grabbing her by a neck and pushing to the wall. - What the fuck happened there?!

- He somehow knew! I had no choice sir. She tried to pull his hands off for a bit of air but even with 50 years on his back Harrison was not one to joke with when shit hits the fan.

- Did you get rid of the body? Wiped evidence? He didn’t release her until he got all the answers.

-Yes! The bodyguard covered us and the barman knows so if anyone asks he came and left because Tania wasn’t available. His car is crashed and burned along with him outside of town. She fell on her knees and coughed as Harrison finally let her out of grip.

- At least that, goddamit Feit. Things never go smooth with you around. He sighted in disappointment but after a moment he offered her hand to stand up.

-But you did your job after all. Don’t take that harshly to yourself how i treat you but you two will have to be more careful. She took his hand and stood up.

- Yes sir. We will...

- And congrats kid, don’t let me down. He stuffed money roll into her hand and pat her shoulder. - Just don’t spend it all in one go will you?

She felt like stabbing this man was a final part of initiation but what meaned more to her was Harrison’s good word on a job well done. He was like a father figure to her later on that she never had any in her life, not wanting to let him down and help her evolve in this new world she stepped into.

----

Ian woke her up with a kiss on a cheek as he arrived to her apartment late in the morning. He noticed a small blood smear under her nose.

- Hey, how was your shift? Are you okay? He looked at her as she woke up a bit concerned about the tiredness on her face. Lucy pulled herself on her elbows towards him and looked him in the eyes.  She grinned and kissed him before pulling him to bed to catch few more hours of sleep.

- I have never been better my dear....

_______________________________

Note: I could say that later on Gage reminds her of Harrison a bit in terms of keeping her impulsive nature on a leash. And looking how age difference between Lucy and Gage would be around 8 years or so yeh, he does have experience and better approach to things while Lucy acts on instincts and impulses. (I have no idea how old is Gage but if i would give him in my universe 35 years Lucy would be 27). And in exchange for pistol training Rosey taught her a bit of charming skills and stealing, maybe a few dirty tricks aswell. And hell Rosey could dance indeed that’s why Lucy also likes to swing from time to time when familiar sounds hit her ear. Spending a lot of time in night clubs forced her to get used with smoking, booze and chems but Rosey had to keep an eye on her as she did tend to go over a bit too much at times. So far im happy to write this sort of shit tbh, makes my head a bit lighter from ideas.  

[itsalreadybroken]

Through Expectations Chapter 3.

Ben Hardy x Reader

Synopsis: You're the daughter of the famous Roger Taylor, okay that seemed alright the thing is, you're more of a geek than a rockstar's daughter. He's blonde, blue eyes and you're brunette, brown eyes. Your brother on the other hand was the younger version of your dad, certainly he preffered to play the guitar, but that only seemed to make him even more popular. But things change the day you get to meet the cast of your dad's movie, and a certain blonde guy makes you change your point of view.

Chapter 2: http://itsalreadybroken.tumblr.com/post/183270695519

A/N: Sorry for some grammar mistake that might exist (if seen please inform me so I can change it) I'm portuguese, and trying to write something that all of you can read and hopefully enjoy!

Words: 3256

The next week was pretty much the same, but you were different, you were acting different. At lest, that was what your brother thought.

“Why aren't you studying something?” Jamie's voice came from your bedroom door while you were checking your phone for you don't know how many times.

“Hum?” you stop looking at your phone and looke at your brother.

“Hello, it's 3pm and you aren't studying or making some assignment due to next moth!” he mocked you and threw you a pillow “Maybe that Dean guy isn't so bad after all. Nice choice of a guy Rogerina” you ignored him and he simply left to his bedroom and after a few minutes he left your house. Maybe to attend some practice, drumming time, parties, who knew it was Jamie's full agenda life.

That wasn't the reason. The reason you spent the last week so into your phone and so eagerly to answer all of your texts so fast was because some guy had followed you back. Texted you and you couldn't help but smile at some idiots things that have been typed.

Ben followed you, Ben texted you. Was it normal? Of course it was you reminded. He made small talk and after that he surely made time to ask you little Roger details. So it was all stritcly professional you asked him and he assured you. All you could think about was, if that was merely professional how could you not stop checking your phone? Waiting for him to answer, tried to type something he always needed to answer back. He did, he never ever left you on mute.

~~~

Ben: So, what are you doing?

Me: Ben it's 3am, what do you think I'm doing?

Ben: So... Wanna grab some food?

Me: It's 3 am ahahaha

Ben: Yes or No?

Was this a way of invinting you out? Was this a date? It couldn't be a date, it was 3am. Probably his idea of a date at 3am would be something completely different. Some text poped-up on you phone and you grabbed it.

Ben: …

Ben: You did not fell asleep, answer me!

Ben: …. Y/N ….!!

Me: Okay, let's go.

Ben: Nice, I'll pick you up in 10.

After choosing some comfy and nice pants, you put on a warm black jacket. So, you only had a problem. You had to leave your house without waking up your dad or Jamie. Luckily father was always a hard sleeper, but your brother, like the brat he was, was not. Any small sound and he woke up.

After closing the door from the outside you sighed with relieve. A car was already waiting for you and you could see Ben smiling when he opened the car window.

“So, where are we exactly going?” you giggled after entering the car and he started driving.

“Well, we have those supermarkets that never close you knnow?” he mocked your question and you looked at him.

“Huuum, yeah I might have heard about it. You do realise it's fucking late and people might see you?” you pressed your lips together smiling.

“Yes I do. People will see me hanging with Y/N Taylor and thinking how the fuck did I got Roger Taylor's part” he laughed never taking his eyes from the road. The music in his car was not that loud and you looke through the window, not saying a word.

Was different talking on the internet and in person. You were nervous, but why?

“So, will you be on set tomorrow?” he asked you turning left and you could see the store he was talking about.

“You do know I go at university right? So I cannot always looking at your blond hair”

“Do you like my hair?” you remained quiet for a while.

“I did not say that!!!” you blushed and covered your cheeks with your hands while he parked the car laughing.

“Still made you think about it, so it's not that bad”.

You both entered the store, it was empty, but you did not got surprised, it was really late, you didn't know what you wanted to eat and Ben was simply grabbing chips and looking for something to go with it.

“Y/N, what do you want?” some blue eyes checked you out while you chose an ice cream. A large ice cream as in matter of fact.

“Just this” you smiled and he nodded. You went to the cashier you couldn't stop staring at him.

“I'll pay” you put yourself in front of him, not allowing him to pay and heard him complain.

“Yes yes, I'm with Y/N Taylor, don't mind trying to guess who I am” he laughed and you glred at him. “Ben!!”

The girl excused herself and after you payed you rolled your eyes containing a smile “What the hell did you just do?”

“Well, she was looking at me and not at you, so I had to make her!” he replied excusing himself. “You're nice to look at!”

“But you...!” the grip you felt to scold him soon lef after his word and you just got yourself in the car as he seem worried.

“Are you mad?” you heard him say while starting the car.

“No I'm not mad. You know, I don't like people to know who I am and even if I did, they never do know. I don't look like him. You look more like him that I do.”

“That's because I have a penis?” he asked making you laugh and taking some weight off of your shoulders.

“It's NOT because of your penis” you grabbed one of his chips.

“My penis felt betrayed right now... Hey that was mine!” he was looking at you opening your ice cream jar “If you wanted more, you should have buyed them”.

“I wanted one, since I bought them, they're yours, but mine!” you teased and tasted your ice cream.

“God this is so good!” you put a bit on the spoon and made him try it “isn't it?”

“It's alright” he srughed.

“Do you like to piss me off Hardy?” his eyes were teasing you, a lot.

“What do you think Taylor?”

~~~

You woke up to the sound of your dad calling you. You wish you didn't, the bed was so comfy and you were so sleepy. You came home at 5am and you belly hurt for the amout of laughing you two made.

“Y/N, come on moonpie, what's with you today? Are you sick?!” Roger knocked the door and then opened it to check in on you.

“I'm fine daddy, just insomnia last night, don't worry” he smiled and kissed your forehead.

Running down the stairs knowing you were more than fashionable late to your classes, made yoou even more stressed, only grabbed your car keys and waved a quick goodbye.

“Where the hell have you been?” Stevie grabbed you by one arm and dragged you to the nearest coffee shop.

“Aren't we supposed to attend class?” you raised one eyebrow looking at her face.

“We were if you were not super late and your bestie decided to wait for you” you both sit on a booth and ordered something. “What have you been up to?” she asked you once again.

“Me? What? How the hell am I up to something?” oh but you knew... You knew she knew you were hiding something. She grabbed her phone and gave it to you. “What's this?”

“Oh no” you murmured. Looking at it, there were pictures of you and Ben at the store Ben hardy and mistery gal was the title and you pressed your lips together. There was even one when you were paying and he was so close to you. His chest seeme to touch your back and you knew sooner or later people would find out who you were and even worse, dad would find out.

Thinking about it, Ben didn't text you this orning either.

And now a big smile came to Stevie's face “SOOOOOO what's his lips like?”

“I dont' know! And I don't want to know. Christ! We just went to get some food!”  you spoke a bit angrily.

“At 3am?!”

“What difference does ir make?!” but you knew the difference, you were just trying to convince yourself this wasn't a big deal. “No one knows who I am” you tried to sound neutral but knowing this could change the life you were used to. Papparazzi would approach you and ask you stuff, girls would be mean on social media. People would want to hang out with you so they could hang out with Ben.

Your phone started ringing, you declined the call so the person on the other line call you back again, and again and again... By the time Stevie went outside to smoke you answered it.

“Y/N I've just checked my phone, I'm so sorry!! I didn't know...!”

“No... No you didn't” you said grabbing one more bite of your croassaint. “Ben... I did not thought it through. I'm used to act and not having much prepercussions after it. No one knows who I am so I guess it's okay. No one recognized me yet”

“Yes but still... I don't know if Roger's going to be there on set today...” he was a bit nervous because your dad had told him you hated all of that attention, you liked being normal. Just hated when people did not believe you were Roger's daughter and needed confirmation.

“If my dad asks you, tell him, I'll explain. I really need to go now, bye” you hang up as soon as Stevie entered.

What if your dad had known the moment he woke you up? He had not said anything. But he never pressured you into talking, he had always given you time to explain yourself and to talk things through. Even if he did, you wouldn't know.

Unless... Unless you went to the studio and spent some time there. It wouldn't be that awkward, would it?

“Earth to Y/N! Are you still thinking about Ben? And Dean?”

You look right up to her “There's nothing going on with me and Ben!”

“But you wish there was” she used a fiercly expression and you pressed your lips together.

“Huum, I don't think so. Plus, I have been seeing Dean you know?!”

“So why don't you introduce him to your father?” she got a point, for the first fucking time, she did it. She got it.

“We haven't been together that long. Besides, it's not official and you know it.”

“Ok, you got me there. But it's official enough so you can take him to the movie studios isn't it?”

Your face lit up a big smile “Of course yes, and that's what I'm going to do today. Just to prove you are wrong”

“I might not be that wrong if you are always trying to prove me that!” Stevie said while you called Dean inviting him to got with you which he accpeted and you squint your eyes at her smiling right after ending your call.

“By the way, isn't your dad's dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yes, you can come to my place to choose what to wear” you both laughed finishg both of your meals.

~~~

You grabbed your wheel a little harder than you should, seeing your knuckles going a bit to white as Dean was changing the station on your car.

“So, this is a nice baby you got here” he spoke breaking the silence between the two of you and you felt your shoulders light up a bit.

“Yes, it was my birthday gift when I turned 18” you quickly took a look at his face. “I wanted an old car but my dad got me this one. Is not the one I really liked but it comes in handy sometimes” you giggled and he put his hand on your thigh.

“Taylor, are you okay?” The concern on his voice made you feel a bit warm, getting the grip that you might be overreacting “Is your dad killing me or something like that? Or is this because of the pictures that came out today?”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded.

“Taylor, I get you're not regular like me. I get a bunch of eyes are upon you and all the things you say and do need to have a filter, even though you don't have it. And most of it, we have only hanging out a couple of times. I'm not gonna get crazy jealous just because a guy want to go out with you” he winked at you “I mean, only blind guys wouldn't want it and that's for sure they never had been talking with you”.

A big exhale came out from your lips “I was just worried you might be thinking I'm some kind of skank or whatsoever” your voice was so low you hadn't been sure he'd heard you.

“I know you, I know you'r bounded to a lot od things that don't concern you and which you cannot alter. Dating or not, you'r allowed to go out with anyone you'd like. What two people need to have between them is respect. And at last but not least, you need to understand who you like”

“I...”

“I'm not saying you don't like me” you cut you rapidly off “i know I'm your crush, I saw you blush a lot of times just for passing by” he laughed “But when you like someone, like really like, you grab it”

Was a guy really saying this? Why was he being so thoughtful to all of this? “My girlfriend left me, and for the first year I was in deep shit. I didn't care about anything, or anyone as a matter of fact”.

You just drove, in silence, listening to him “I saw the way he looked at you the time you kissed his cheek at the party, he fancies you”.

“So do you” you immediately reply.

“I do” he laughs “Did I ever told you that?”

You laughed and shook your head “You don't call the other girls by their last name, so I just assumed” a giggle came form you and the air was just so much lighter.

Arriving at the studio, you grabbed Dean by his arm and you both went in, girls working there stopped to look at him. He was a hunk, tall, good looking, the one you want to sweep you off of your feet. He had it all.

“Y/N!” you heard a voice calling you and you turned your head to see who it was.

“Joe, hi!” you smiled and greeted him with a hug. This Joe was dressed like a young John Deacon . “How are you? This is Dean. He was at the party too” they handshaked and you could see he was reluctant on talking “So... I've seen some pictures...”

“We just went for some food, nothing much...” you excused yourself and tried looking everywhere except his face “So, which part are you recording now?”

“The part where we try to Bohemian Rhapsody as our single”

When you three arrived the set, all faces turned around to see you.

“Moonpie!” Roger approached you and you introduced him to your Dean “Y/N has never ever introduced me to any guy”

“I'm not any guy” he laughed and you looked searching for blue eyes that didn't yet meet yours.

Ben wanted to talk to you, but at the same time, he didn't because he was looking at Roger and Dean and they both were laughing and talking about something that made you do an annoyed look followed by the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

The time your eyes met, you waved and taking the opportunity, you approached him.

“Hey, how are you?” both of you know how both of you were, but nevertheless you were trying to keep it hidden even though all of the people there had seen your pictures at the store.

“I'm fine, see you brought a friend” he added, souding neutral, non jealousy type.

“It's Dean from the party... No big deal” you added.

“I don't remember him” he lied and you both knew that.

“It's fine, we're friends and he is a fan of Queen” you sat next to him and all you could sense was the bitterness in him

“Aren't we all?”

“Well... Yes. He knows about the store and he told me to go after you if you'd care to know. Plus, that outfit looks really good on you” these were your last words and when he tried to chase after you to get acquiantance of what you just said the director entered the room telling the boys it was time to shoot the scenes, so you just left him there and went on backstage to see the scene beeing shot.

You and Dean stood there for a while but the guys where just not gettng focused on the scene so they are always remaking it.

You said goodbye to your dad and Brian who was across the studio and took Dean home.

The next night would be great, or not.

Ben was getting attached to you and he had seen you leave with Dean at the party, was hard for him to believe there was nothing going on.

~~~

The house was perfectly fine, dinner had been cooked according to some of your dad's favourite and it looked like a fancy dinner between friends. You wish it wouldn't be, because it should be more casual. But that's the thing with Roger Taylor you had to do casual and fancy all in one.

You had a little black dress, lots of bracelets, one necklace and flat shoes.

“I still can't figure out what to wear!” Stevie had already been trying more than a dozen dresses and she was so fashion concerned about the others. So you grabbed one of the pile and showed it to her.

“I think this was your best, and to impress Jamie... Nothing better” you made a devilish smile.

The guys had just arrived and so you excused yourself and left Stevie alone.

You went down the stairs and caught Ben alone at the hall.

“Ben!” his eyes laid upon you more than you expected. Good.

“Y/N, how are you?” he was acting casual like nothing had happened. Well... Nothing did happen but you wanted it. Oh god how you wanted it!

“So glad you're here” you were a little uncertain but you hugged him anyway “Listen, about the pictures...”

“I said I'm sorry” he spoke in a bit harsh voice “If I had known I'd never tell you anything, I know how much you hate attentions drawn to you. And all I do is catch other's attention”

“Hey... I did not say that! I said I didn't care, because for the first time I didn't care if anyone saw me, knew me or photographed me. I had such a nice time with you” you crossed your arms knowing you were getting sadder just by the thought of not being around that ray of sunshine. Not being able to speak, you turned yourself to the living room to greet the other guys, leaving him alone in the hall.

NOTE: So, what did you think about this chapter? What do you think it’s going to happen next?  i’m trying to write a bit everyday, and always thinking in ways to feel inspired and nice and fine ideas for the plot.

Tag-List: @killer-queen-ofrhye @cotton-candy-bubbles @applcrumblr@roseesirene @freddiewhistle @kurt-nightcrawler @works-of-fanfiction @but-legendsneverdie @jelly-snow-stark @strangemaximoff @marvel-rhapsody@blessthegulag @ur-gunna-h8-ths @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen@celebsimagines @queen-irl-af @rogerinasqueen  @jelly-snow-stark @whoianayesha @annas-unicorun @raythespastic @little1-1red @imlosingmyshit @blackparacosm @sheridans-dynamos @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @ixchel-9275

[peaches-of-1]

Taehyung- Coffee Shop!AU

Male!Reader x Barista!Taehyung

Mstrlst in Bio!

Taehyung used his index finger to push up his glasses and then gave a small Korean girl her Vegan Vanilla Chai Latte. He had been working here ever since high school to buy video games, but this place ended up becoming his safe space. He loved the smell of the Arabica beans fresh in the morning and the various brews throughout the day.

It had become a place for college students to congregate for study nights. Finals were coming up soon, so they’d have a lot more college aged kids in the upcoming month.

“What’s this?” A young man named Vai asked after ordering. He came around enough to be recognized, but not exactly a regular.

He was referencing to the mug shaped piggy bank with sheets of paper and a pen next to it. Tae explained that the shop was taking suggestions about what they could do to help improve the atmosphere of the coffee shop, especially with the younger crowd.

“Any good suggestions, yet?” The shy boy asked.

“Nah, mostly just menu things that we can’t afford and some stray coins or whatever.”

“Can I write something?”

Taehyung motioned to the container, “Go ahead.”

The foreign YouTuber wrote something and put in into the piggy bank. The next time Taehyung looked at the clock, it was 8:21 at night. He’d be here soon, and so the brown haired young man started preparing his order. Four minutes later, the bell rung and a young man in a purple jacket came in with a group of his friends.

They all set down their backpacks at the seats they chose. Some started unpacking while others began to line up.

“(Y/N)~!” Taehyung’s husky voice called out.

The young man in the purple jacket turned around and smiled. He approached the counter with a smile to get his pre-made order.

He chuckled, “You know you don’t have to do this every time.”

“You’re a loyal customer. It’s my pleasure.”

“There might be a day I order something differently.”

Tae shrugged, “It’s been four months. I highly doubt it.”

The young man huffed, “That just means I’ll surprise you next time.”

He went back to his friends, and Taehyung just sighed. The barista loved the boy in the purple jacket more than words could describe. He had started coming about four months ago to study for an entrance exam or something and had returned every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

The first night, he had asked Taehyung for the best coffee.

“Oh, I don’t drink coffee, but the tea here is really good.”

His chuckle had made the barista’s heart go !!!, “If you don’t drink coffee, why are you working here?”

“Money’s good and I like the atmosphere. The people are mostly nice too. I’d suggest hot chocolate or the butterfly pea tea.”

 By the end of the day, there were about 50 suggestions Taehyung had to go through before closing. The boss wanted to help go through them, but there was no way his most loyal employee was going to let him.

“You need your rest, sir. I’ve got it. I’ll let you know if we have anything interesting when we open tomorrow.”

After going through them, he found that there were mostly usless suggestions or ones that would cost way too much money. There was one that was actually a really good idea, however. Live music. Having a coffeehouse musician was popular nowadays, and there would probably be a lot of untapped talent in the local area.

After suggesting it to the boss later the next day, he thought it was a wonderful idea as well. | Soon enough fliers and posters were hung up in the shop and also around town displaying the time and date of auditions to sing in the coffee shop. They were looking for someone with a gentle and clear voice, hopefully they could play guitar. It wasn’t a requirement since instrumentals could be found online at any time.

The day of auditions came, and Taehyung was annoyed. They were being held at the back of the coffee shop as to not bother the patrons. He didn’t understand why so many people thought screemo or rap would do well when the flier said “gentle and clear”

“Next!” He called as he scratched out yet another name from his list and balled up their application. He grumbled to himself about how people didn’t know how to read nowadays.

The next person that showed up sounded familiar, “Um, hi?”

“Hi. So you’re called the...” He looked up to see the man in the purple jacket and swallowed. “The Pa-bros? Is that correct?”

Both Tae’s crush and the broad-shouldered man next to him nodded. The other man was someone who visited but never dressed so casually. Taehyung sat up straight and asked them to give their real names for him to write down.

“I’m Kim Seokjin.”

“And I’m (Y/N). We’re the Pa-Bros.”

He wrote down both names and then asked to hear what they had. Seokjin began to strum on his guitar and (Y/N) sung out in a pristine and beautiful voice that carried the most human of souls in it. He was singing “Put Your Records On” by Corrine Bailey Rae. It made Taehyung’s heart flutter, and he could’ve sworn he forgot how to breathe until the end of the song.

Everyone in the room let out a breath.

“Wow.” The barista said. “That was amazing. I’ll let you know how you did within the week. Yeah, I’m speechless. Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you.” Both said and bowed. Seokjin packed up his guitar and slung it over his shoulder while the other placed his stool against the wall.

Several patrons of the coffee shop were standing outside the door when the two left. It surprised the two performers, but it also gave the barista more of a reason to hire them. There had been only two other decent auditions the whole day other than (Y/N) and Seokjin.

“So, how’d it go?” The boss asked as he helped to clean up the tables as his brown-haired employee swept the floors.

“It went well. I’ll show you the footage of the top three once we’re done cleaning up.”

The two men sat at a table and watched the performances on Taehyung’s phone in the silent shop. They had all done incredibly well. It was hard for them to choose a favorite and decided to do one final test to see who they could have perform for them. Of course, there was only a certain amout of money that could go towards paying these talents, so they had to be worth it.

Once home, Taehyung sat at his laptop and sent out rejection emails to the 34 people who did not make it. Then you sent emails to the final three: Pa-bros, Mia Kim, and a brother sister trio called Gro Up. The message explained that they would have to do a live performance the upcoming Wednesday to see how well their visitors liked their talents.

It would also show who could handle performing live in front audience. Tae didn’t send the message to them yet since he wanted his boss’s approval to make sure it had everything he wanted in it. Instead, he listened to jazz in the shower and while he microwaved his dinner, humming along to the brassy notes

He really hopped the Pa-Bros made it just so that he could see (Y/N) every other day of the week.

The day came, and Taehyung made sure his uniform was clean and had even fixed his glasses for tonight. He had seen people talking about the coffee shop competition on SNS. Even though it wasn’t marketed like that, he figured that’s what this basically was. A competition to see who got the job.

Wait, fuck! Does that mean it’s gonna be busy today? Tae thought as he picked up his speed to the shop.

The answer was yes. Luckily, the boss had anticipated this and restocked two days earlier even ordering extra for the crowd. The store would be getting more popular after this, huh?

Tae put his stuff into his locker after clocking in and put on his apron. Getting to work was fun as he watched speakers be set up where the stage would be sooner or later. It wouldn’t be that big, just a bit higher than the rest of the store for better viewing. The orders came quickly, but the interest made most people more patient. That was good.

Then the boss said that the two Park Jimins could take over the counter, and he could introduce the acts and work the floor due to his natural charisma. He nodded and went to do just that with nothing prepared.

“Hi, everyone. Glad to have you here.” He said into the taller microphone. “We have three amazing acts for you to watch tonight. The winner will be decided by your applause and will become perminant entertainment for the store!”

A few people clapped, making him smile despite his nerves.

“Anyways, first up is a band of twin sisters and thier little brother. Please welcome to the stage, Gro Up!”

The trio began to sing and play their instruments, but something was off. It quickly came apparent that one of the sisters weren’t feeling well. She darted towards the bathroom to throw up. Her twin followed as the youngest thanked the audince for their attention, but they were going to withdraw from the competition. He scampered off to check on his sisters.

Taehyung was pushed back on stage where he introduced Mia Kim who did well despite the events that literally just happened seconds ago. Then Tae introduced Pa-Bros. Another stool was set up in the space and microphones were placed where the best sound could be heard from each.

Today (Y/N) wore a vest over a checkered dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up halfway which made him look more handsome than usual. Jin was also dressed nicely, but Taehyung’s eyes were glued to (Y/N) His face was so handsome and he seemed comfortable under the stares of the largest Wednesday afternoon crowd they’d ever had.

“Hi, we’re Pa-Bros, and we’ll be singing ‘I’m Yours’ by Jason Mraz.”

The Barista closed his eyes as he listened to the singer. It felt as if he were transported to an island where it was just the two of them in swim trunks exploring the forest with smiles on their faces. They played in the water until sunset where they made a bonfire and slow danced under the stars. They now sat by the ocean in a blanket with the fire crackling near by.

He laid his head on Tae’s shoulder and smiled at him, “I really love you.”

Taehyung snapped out of his daydream while people applauded and felt his cheeks get warm, but he clapped as well. What kind of daydream was that? He had never let his imagination go that far when thinking about the man, but this time was different. (Y/N) looked at the blushing barista who gave two thumbs up in return.

Then people voted for the two artists. Ten minutes later, they were counted up by the female Jimin who texted Taehyung the winners. Gro Up had apologized and gone home out of embarassment but said they wished Mia and Bros luck since they had both done so well.

“Alright, folks.” He adjusted his glasses as everyone quieted down. “Before I announce the winner, I wanna thank all of you for coming to see the show and ordering while you’re here. It means a lot.” He clapped and smiled.

“I’d also like to give a round of applause to our lovely entertainment. All of you were absolutely stunning tonight and are both winners in my book.” Applause and cheers.

Taehyung continued, “However, in the payroll, there can only be one or the other. We’ve counted up all the votes three times and by two different people. The winner is...” He opened the text message and beamed as he saw the name, “The Pa-Bros!”

The whole coffee shop became an uproar of cheers. The two boys hugged each other and then bowed to Mia who congratulated them. As Taehyung moved to congratulate them as well, (Y/N) pulled the barista in by the collar and kissed him square on the lips.

After the two parted, he said, “Sorry, I just promised myself I would kiss you if I won.”

“Good.” Tae said and kissed back.

A few months passed and the coffee shop was doing better than ever. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, they would have a poetry slam. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were when The Pa-Bros--who renamed themselves to Koffee Kings--performed on the new stage.

Taehyung clocked in as usual, humming jazz. He always showed up half an hour earlier to watch his boyfriend (Y/N) perform a couple of songs. By the time he clocked in, it was a five minute intermission. Sometimes when his love was in a really good mood, Tae’s boyfriend would dance with him after giving people their coffees.

He was wearing the purple jacket tonight, “Don’t forget to tip your waiters, especially cuz that one’s my boyfriend! I love you, Tae!”

“Love you too!” The barista replied, blushing with the biggest smile on his face.

Kim Taehyung always liked working here, but he could tell that he would enjoy it even more.

[letitbefiction]

Iron heart and a spider shaped key- chapter 14

Summary: the good news? y/n Stark fell for the one and only Peter Parker from the moment she saw him. the bad news are, Peter feels the same. And to keep her safe he’ll have to play a dangerous game.

A/N: hope you guys enjoy it���💗though I have to admit I’m really disappointed of the fact that the amout of notes came down lately..😅

y/f/s- your favorite show

Warning- swearing?

Paring- Peter Parker x stark!reader

Type: angst and fluff the usual

Word count: 3k

Previous chapter

Next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/n?” Michelle called behind you as you scrolled through your phone “hold up I’m ordering our pizza” you mentioned opening the entrance door to reveal the lighted room, she scanned the hallway while you placed your phone in your back pocket, turning to her you could help but crack a smile at her wide glancing eyes “chip? You good girl?” She shook herself from the trance and looked at you embarrassed “yeah it’s just this place is so huge I can’t get used to it!” She exclaimed swinging an arm over your shoulder “thank you?” You answered unsure as you two walked into the common room.

“Hey Peter” she waved and he mimicked her action with a smile before turning to you with a roll of his brown eyes “y/n.” “Peter.” You exchanged empty looks, not noticing how uncomfortable MJ got by staring at your cold war.

“How was your day princess?” He teased, his tone cold and obnoxious in your ears, “Fuck off smurf boy” you hissed rising your middle finger.

“Imma go get something to drink want something?” You asked Michelle while turning towards the kitchen “sure get me the same as you” she shrugged taking a seat next to Peter, you shot her a kind smile and walked into the other room.

“What’s your problem Parker?” Michelle huffed, crossing her arms with a raised brow. “What?” “You know what.” “I..don’t?” “Ok.” She shrugged, letting a moment of tension settle down “oh did you know five guys already asked her on a date?” She lied, keeping cool seeing Peter reaction to her words. His jaw clenched and his eyes changed dangerously. “But I’m sure you don’t care” Michelle tapped his back seeing you walking inside with two glasses of juice, confusion written all over your features. His eyes shot fire at your direction and you put him off with by ignoring him all together. “Come on chip we can watch tv in the theater room” “cool! you have a theater room?!” Her jaw dropping with a slight smile as you both left the room, abandoning Peter behind.

Anger flood his veins, he should feel better knowing that if she’s with someone else it’ll be ok but he couldn’t let it go slide, just the thought of her kissing someone that isn’t him made his eyes gleam green with jealousy, he shouldn’t feel possessive over you, you aren’t his, he had his shots and every time he made you slip away, but he couldn’t let you be with someone else.

He just couldn’t.

“Are you ok Peter?” Wanda called snapping the curly headed boy from his trance, his darkened eyes quickly built a wall of softness to hide the feeling within him.

He stood up and straightened his position “yeah of course! Just some school stuff..” “and the truth?” “Huh?” “You don’t need to feel overprotective of yourself your part of us now” she smiled kindly colliding her hands softly, after a moment of hesitation she spoke again “Y/n is going on a date with some guy” Wanda whispered politely taking a seat next to Peter who seemed too jumpy for her “who told you that??” He asked with wide eyes searching for answers in the blue oceans of the witch “Y/n. She has a date?” Her tone more calm and questioning as she she boarded into his eyes “and it isn’t you..?” She continued feeling his sadness breaking through his mind “No!” He jumped turning away from her to look at the coffee table in front of him “Wait. I-I don’t c-care. It’s her life I-uh..” he stammered quietly over his words but stopped at her blue revealing eyes “it’s really stupid of you to try and lie to someone who can read your mind Peter.” She stated with heavy accent causing the boy to turn red. “you read my mind?” He asked insecure “don’t need to. You’re been obvious.” She shrugged and reached for his his arm and motioning for him to sit down as well.

He looked at her with wide eyes letting his curtains fall to reveal his feelings “please don’t tell mr. Stark. He’d kill me! I can’t be with her! Mr. Stark would drop me from the Empire State Building!” He excused but Wanda just squinted her eyes at him “you’re scared that she’ll get hurt..you care about her. not Tony.” She stated lowly and the boy turned his gaze away his ears turning a color of bright red, “Peter..she had been going on mission since she was thirteen, she can defend herself...” she comforted placing a gentle hand over his making him look into her eyes “and right now. You’re the one hurting her not some sort of criminal.” She whispered a sad smile tugging on the ends of her lips.

And just like that she turned on her heels and walked out of the room. Peter closed his eyes all sorts of emotions mixed in his stomach.

Leaving to his room, your laughter swung to his ears and he couldn’t help but smile at the sweet sound, peeking to see you with a bright and beautiful smile, eating pizza with Michelle, the dimly lighted screen shining across your faces in the darkened room and the soft sound of mechanical old school laughter muffled in his senses as he turned to see the show you were watching.

“Hey girls!” Thor boomed dragging a socked Peter inside with a devilish smirk “oh hey bb” you called turning to see Peter red face collided with Thor’s chest, “bb?” Michelle asked confused “Brother bear” you explained to you dumbfound friend who simply shook her head smiling as a response. “What are you watching?” “Friends” you grinned taking another bite from your pizza “that sounds wonderful! And who’s your friend?” “Michelle Jones” she waved as thor slammed to the red leather couch next her with Parker on his side, desperately trying to escape to gain some air to his lunges.

“Pleasure. Will you staying for dinner? I’m going to cook” he said proudly and you couldn’t help but show your disapproval unlike your friend who couldn’t hold her excitement in her eyes.

“you are?” You both asked in unity, her voice surprised and intrigued unlike you who showed nothing but disappointment “But last time—“ you started but was cut immediately by a fake hurting god “I’m better now lady y/n. You’re disgracing my cooking skills.” “Yeah. I have my reasons..” you scoffed with an unapologetic grin “well I think thor would be a great cook” Peter voice called and you couldn’t help but think he was doing it on purpose just to go specifically against you, “of course you do” you rolled your eyes and turned your sight away from him to focus on the movements on the screen “what that supposed to mean huh princess?” He taunted and you shot a warning glare at him “Call me like this one more time and I’ll send my missiles at you.” You hissed seeing his satisfied grin “I’m just supporting Thor” he shrugged innocently “yeah well feel free to wash the kitchen after that mess.” You growled angrily ignoring your friend smirk “Kitchen?” “Yes.” You answered rudely, an uncomfortable coldness set in the room while the two of you glared at each other completely ignoring the two people that were sitting between you awkwardly.

“Fine.” He said with honeyed voice unlike you who answered “Fine” neglecting the conversation with the witty boy and turning to Mj.

“Would you shut up? I’m trying to watch the show.” Peter spoke confidently as you and Michelle halted your conversation, you and Michelle turned to him with a bitch face, Michelle then looked over to see thor grinning at the situation.

“We were here first you can go watch it in your room if we’re annoying you.” You commented defensively, “No.” He answered “Then shut up.” You repeated his cold words, staring into each other eyes, his chocolate eyes choking you defeat, making your cheek burn up and feeling a bit bittersweet about the whole situation.

He sent you a playful smirk before returning to look at the colorful scream.

You rolled your eyes annoyed and threw a pillow at his face, not noticing the knowing looks the two characters beside you exchanged during your little bickering.

A few hours past and by now, Thor had left to make the so called dinner he was planning while you informed the team and they all chose to order Chinese.

Peter took his seat because “he wanted to see better”, mj trapped alone between the quiet tension without the friendly god.

The curly headed boy kept quiet, no comments to annoy you or teasing just a few times you caught him look at you shyly before returning to stare blankly at the screen.

Suddenly the uncomfortable tension between the two of you because a settling quietness filled background voices.

Your eyes flattered tiredly at the screen, the darkness of the room covering you like a blanket forcing you to shut your eyes and ignoring your surroundings.

“Dinner’s Re—” Bucky stopped at the entrance staring at the two teenagers sleeping on the couch, you somehow fell asleep on Peter’s shoulder, his arm stretching to your form and his brown curls resting on the top of your head.

He slowly walked down the stairs and pulled out his phone, by now after a million time you explained to him, he managed took a picture.

it was sweet and innocent and totally gonna get you in trouble.

He watched his steps as he placed a fuzzy blanket over your curdled bodies and left as fast as he came.

The laughter in the dining room stopped to the sound of screaming, they all rushed to the direction of the theater room leaving their take-away packages scrambled on the table.

“This is your fault!” You yelled jumping away from Peter, your heart beat fastened as you released yourself from his touch “s-sorry!” He stammered feeling his fast going all red, seeing the strange and kind look on your face he reminded himself of his act “My fault!? You fell asleep on me!” He blamed, both of you blushing with embarrassment and anger “Well you did too!” You argued crossing your arms over you small and angry physic “it was nice ok what do you want me to say?” He blushed with a soft smile shooting you a shy smirk “Anything but that! You are so confusing Parker!” You whined placing your hands over your face trying to brush away the heat that won’t stop to add onto your face “I do it because I have to!” He confessed but you brushed it off desperately believing that it’s another excuse “Yeah ok whatever!” You yelled feeling your stomach flipping at your words. For a moment he was quite, his spider senses informing him about the movement in the room.

“Stop whining! You say you’re not a princess but look at you!” He hissed flying his hands to the air dramatically “Fuck you Peter!” You screamed kicking the boy down to the floor, anger flooding your body.

“This is priceless!” Bucky chuckled while the You argued, making the group around him look at each other confused, “What did you do?” Steve questioned gripping to his best friend’s shoulder, he swiftly pulled out the picture from his phone and showing the way you and tangled together to the group “Oh..awwwww!” They all called in realization grabbing yours and Peter’s attention, making you both turn even more red with embarrassment (if that was even possible) “Spiderboy you finally made a move?” Sam teased causing the boy to stumble away from you hugging his arm nervously “W-what? N-no!” He protested still laying on the wine colored carpeting “and he never will!” You replied flustered storming away from the room shooting Peter a deadly look before pushing the stalking group, grabbing Michelle by the arm and leading her away.

“I just can’t with him anymore! I hate him I hate him! I hate him!” You roared completely ignoring your father overworked frame as you stormed up the stairs, he pointed his finger wanting to say something but taking by your angered voice he did what everyone should do when you’re pissed and turned back. “Why though?” Michelle asked calmly trying to keep up with your speed “Because he’s an idiot! And arrogant and ugh I just hate him em.” You stated turning to her with your face completely red and fiery tears glossing your eyes, the ding from the elevator distracting your thoughts.

“Why do you hate being called princess?” “Because. They’re snobby, rude, whining brats that’s why.” You spoke coldly, answering quickly as if the answer was already prepared for you. “And I’m no royalty.” You whispered opening your door forcefully letting her enter your room, “your room is cool” “thanks...” “so...” “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean for your first time visiting me to be..this.” “It’s cool. I had fun! Like I got to hangout with the fucking avengers! I think I’m good” she chuckled and you let your lips curl into a smile.

The rest of the evening you two talked about everything, well she listened to your rumbling on what you should do for your birthday and she suggested you to hang out with her and the guys, you of course, politely declined refusing to go near Peter unless you were needed to. “What about a party? Your father must have done millions of those you should throw your own” she shrugged and you stopped your pacing and looked at her surprised “you. Of all people. Suggesting I’ll do a party?” You taunted making her roll her eyes at you with a smirk “I hate being around the people in school. But you seem to like them so I don’t see why not” she shrugged and looked at her phone briefly, “I’ll think about it..” you huffed and placed your hands in your jeans pockets “look I gotta go but if you want to talk you know where to find me” she bowed “please not you too...” you faked a whine and walked with her towards the door continuing a small talk “and if he gives you some serious trouble tell me and I’ll kick his ass for you” she joked as you opened the door, the slight wind sending you a cold shiver as a reminder to the jacket you left in the theater room “no need. We could do it as a team work!” You laughed waving to her as she slid into the SUV.

Turning on your heel you kept smiling, you finally had a good friend, that you could see everyday without the feeling of being left behind. *ding* the sound of a message clicked in your brain and in less than a second your phone was placed in your hands.

• ‘dude. Have you seen the last episode of y/f/s’

you looked at the screen name ‘fangirl’, referring to the blond headed girl you met this morning, also known as Madison.

You shook your head slowly turning to the needed room

•‘not yet why? what happened??’

•‘No spoilers! But oh my god! It was freaking amazing and I am so happy and agjsgdve!!’

A few minutes past as you entered the large room turning on the light that reflected across the black leather sofas.

You giggled at her response, promising to watch it soon you closed the bright screen and grabbed your jacket that was predicated to be behind your seat.

“Hey there you are!” Your father called from the top of the stairs, his voice gentle and excitable leaving you questioning the tone. “Yes papa?” You raised your eyebrows suspiciously, quickly making your way up the flight of stairs “I want to hear about your first day!” He beamed, a fatherly grin appearing on his lips as you took his open arm. “come on I ordered us some food” he mentioned walking towards the kitchen.

“Ugh” you rolled your y/c/e eyes seeing the boy sitting at the marble bar surrounded by books and pens, he didn’t even look at you and just let a sigh “same goes for you.” “Excuse me?” Your father asked with a threatening voice causing the boy a small heart attack, turning to him pale as a ghost “S-sorry Mr.Stark” you felt a bit sorry for him, and maybe a bit in aw but instead you crossed your arms and flipped your hair backwards “s-sorry M-mr. S-stark” you mocked your eyes mimicking his puppy ones lifting the amount of tension in the room as he stared at you his cheeks turning red in no time.

Your father stood awkwardly in the crossfire that was going on between the two teenagers.

With a cough he brought the attention back to him “uh..did you kids get into a fight or something?” Eyeing Peter, you answered for the guilty boy who seemed nervous under the glare of your father “Does it matter?” You huffed, letting go of your dad’s hold and walking to the counter where your favorite Italian pasta laid in a plastic box, fumes covering the clear plastic lid, hiding the delicious sight from you.

“Yes?” He sang awkwardly, you darted your eyes to him coldly before realizing your doing and letting your gaze soften “No. It doesn’t.” You whispered grabbing the stack boxes and handing your father his while placing the rest on the table and taking a seat next to your dad, after a few minutes of cold silence your father finally spoke again “Ok this is getting awkward Peter go to your room” he ordered and the boy crumbled the paper surrounding him mumbling “yes sir” before stumbling his way out.

“So?” “He’s an idiot.” You answered stuffing the food in your mouth, your father kept quiet and raised his brow with a slight smirk creeping to his lips “I meant about school y/n/n..” “oh school was awesome! I got homework!” You cheered and he shook his head in disbelief that same smile not leaving him “I think you’re the only teenager excited to get homework” “Well because it’s easy and what do I care” you shrugged and returned to your peaceful eating.

After a minute or so your father eyed you and you quickly raised a curious brow at him “and friends?” He questioned “Friends?” “Yeah you know..kids your age that are friendly?” He suggested but seeing the creeping smirk that was running to your lips he was quick to continue “But not too friendly!” You nodded your head with a small giggle “Yeah I met some cool people! Wouldn’t call them friends yet but acquaintances is a fair word” “could you tell me more about your ‘acquaintances’?” He interrogated while taking a sip from his beer “So you could look them up?” “Maybe?” He shrugged looking away but turning to you with honesty mid second “Yes. But it’s just to see if they’re good influences on you.” You huffed dramatically and placed a hand over your forehead pretending to be a victim “Let me be father” you breathed and he played along placing a hand over your shoulder and looking over your shoulder “you know I can’t child of mine” you both laughed at the moment and continued talking about his latest projects and even your birthday coming up, though you didn’t brought the idea of a party just yet.

“Well I think it’s time for bed it’s a school night” he teased planting a kiss at the top of your head while grabbing the empty boxes away from you “yeah yeah..” “oh and y/n?” “About Pete—” “oh trust me. You don’t need to worry anymore. And feel free to keep him away from me.” You smiled sarcastically walking towards the hallway before turning to him with a slight smile, trying your hardest not to show the sadness in the next words “I hate spiders anyways”

“What did you do?” Tony erupted Peter’s room and slammed the door after him, both anger and confusion flooding his body “M-mr. Stark!” Peter said nervously, quickly jumping to get closer to his mentor “What did you do kid?” He asked, trying to sound more curious than angered, Peter eyes widened with fear trying his hardest to remember the few bad things he did in the past two weeks “It was Sam’s idea to prank you I swear! He said if I won’t do it he’d—“ he yelped sweat forming on his forehead nervously “I meant about my daughter. What did you do and why does she hates you?” Tony cut and the room became quiet.

“She hates me?” The boy whispered, it was his plan but it was hurting him a lot more than he expected, worse than any villain that ever punched him. “According to her.” Tony stated as gloss covered the chocolate eyes in front of him “I thought you two liked each other and now you hate each other and it’s barely been a week!” The elder stark called misunderstanding the whole situation “Y-yes..” Peter whispered, his eyes forming tears at the ends his eyes “what happened?” Tony placed a gentle hand over the boy’s almost trembling shoulder and even though Peter kept his gaze on the floor he talked sincerely like an adult “I’m protecting her. Keeping my distance like you asked..or making her keep her distance to be exact.” He huffed and looked at your father eyes with bravery, “By making her hate you?” “Y-yeah apparently.” He shrugged his breath becoming uneven at the words.

After a long silence where Tony looked off and a bit shamed for letting this situation happen he turned to Peter, tilting his head a bit and squinting his eyes sending the boy into a spiral of ways where he’d die in any given moment “pranking me?” “Ye-eah...” “you might not want to use your shampoo today.” “Why?” He crossed his arms, glaring at the kid in front of him “Just don’t.” Peter smiled awkwardly brushing the back of his neck “Ok then...” he nodded letting his arms free “get some rest kid” Tony smiled, pointing at the boy with a raised brow “yes sir” Peter saluted him and turned on his hills as Tony shook his head and closed the door after him and let a quiet sight, something clicked in his head and he now fully understood why you liked him, he was ready to sacrifice himself than put you in danger, something no teenager he’d met by now was capable of doing. And sure he didn’t want the two of you together but god he knew that hate coming from you is never good.

Tag list (send an ask if you want to be tagged here!)💕 @pieceofhamiltrash @tom-parkers-girl @all-fandomthings @thankyouspiderr

@sterolinelover13 @fiesty5sos

@jilyloveswolfstar @floodinginstars

@dayswithoutcoffee @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @purpstraw @spacequeenstuff @awesomefandomsunited @for-my-mind

[lets-talk-spirituality]

you are comparing yourself to others to make yourself feel superior. Your decision to work on yourself and not focus on relationships doesn’t mean that those who focused on relationships were desperate. ///

oh i worded that part wrong, my bad, i don't think at all that people who are seeking for partners are desesperate, i said that because when i was younger (like 13-16) my besties had crushes on everyone very easily (i was always the one hearing their dramas when the things didn't happened the way they wanted and giving amout of advices) i wasn't like that, i used to think everyone has a soulmate why don't seek for them or at least a long lasting love instead of these momentary things that often give you headache and tears and heartbreak (which later, when you mature, you may laugh about it and think you were silly)

deep down I understand these things are part of life and we're only 13 years old once, we were all immature at some point but my way of thinking that i mentioned above was just me avoiding more problems than i already had (i dont like talking about the dark side of my life to others but I'll tell you something specific, he was the root of many of the issues I have nowadays) in the middle of the problems, my father wanted me to always study non stop and dress modest, i was nerdy, corny with high grades and now i became a fucking perfeccionist ball of anxiety 🙂 i tried excruciatingly hard to be his perfect daughter I never thought about my wishes, desires and wanting, my personality was all for him. I have problems with him since childhood, i was grown when my mother started to try to give me issues.

I love love but I never threw myself head to avoid disappointments, once i love, i would like to do it freely and blindly, almost unconditional, with someone who is my best friend and partner in crime.

It’s okay! We all don’t always communicate what we mean at times. I just had to point out, one to make you aware how it came across but also to other people who read this blog.

I’m really sorry and saddened to hear about your relationship with your father, it makes me tear up. I can’t imagine how that must feel. My dad had some of that, like wanting me to be a certain way, but not to the level it seems you experienced and ultimately I’m too fucking hellbound independent to care anyway.

I think we’ve talked before ;) I remember your story. I don’t think you’re wrong for wanting that, but it does sound like you may want to work on opening up to things that could hurt you too (I say as someone who struggles deeply with it). There’s this card I have called cracked open and it’s about how when our heart breaks and cracks open it allows the light in, it allows spirit in. We have these moments where we break to become stronger, like scar tissue. I hope at the least you’ll try yo embrace things that scare you because I think what you’ve been through made you feel it’s not safe to share your light. And that’s such a sad world for us, because your light is beautiful. You know I struggled with that too. And a few things, one—flowers don’t care how they bloom, they bloom anyway. And two—what if by hiding your light, you’re actually keeping it away from others. That’s how I started looking at it. Me not sharing my gifts with the world is me stealing that opportunity from others to know me and understand things. It’s like this blog, me not sharing my insight robbed you all the experience of learning what I share. That’s what pushed me to open the blog. Think about what the world is missing out on, by you protecting yourself and hiding. I understand that so deeply but you don’t have to hide anymore anon. You can shine as bright as you want now, a huge fuck you. You don’t know who will see your light, who will be brought out of the darkness from that. You’re beautiful but believe it, do whatever you need to to believe. I love you 💕 stop hiding 😘

[cryjeon-archive-blog]

How to stop caring about haters? I'm a new ARMY and recently stumbled upon a long anti-BTS post and the person was simply cruel. I don't understand why some people are like this... How do I stop worrying about what haters say?

my dear friend how do i say this without it turning into a three page essay? the reason i disliked bts before i got into them was because of trolls on twitter, like i judged a group and their fandom solely based on the small percentage i was shown on my timeline coz my mutuals loved to shit on bts (because they wanted to or because they knew nothing about them (like me)? who knows) BUT one day i said fuck it and gave in and declared myself a bts fan/army not giving two shits about our reputation and you know what?? that’s exactly what you gotta do with the fandom AND the boys!

if you’re a new army you’re still getting to know them, you’re going to fall in love with them even more, every day, it won’t stop. you will get to know their personalities, they’re fun, shy, intelligent, brilliant, caring, supportive, hard-working, humble, dedicated and i wish i could have more words for them but my first language is not english so my vocabulary is limited but what i wanna say is, once you get to know them, those anti posts made by haters are just a little small stone in your shoe. they are so much more than what it’s said on those posts, those people don’t know them, they don’t want to, it’s their loss. their posts are based on jealousy or just another person who jumped on the bts hate bandwagon who didn’t bother to do their research. we got bts and bts got us, it’s a teamwork.

the best thing to do is ignore. it might be hard coz they’re being hateful to our faves, but we know them, they don’t. you can try to send a message and educate those people (most of the time they don’t care so don’t bother, don’t waste your time with garbage), report and block, do not send hateful messages, don’t scoop that low it’ll prove their point and you’ll lose yours, be the bigger person. bts are selling out arenas, they are being successful, always proving people wrong, one step after the other, another day another slay, they spoil us like fuck, new content almost every day, we’re one big huge family. if you see a post being directly thrown at them (for example: an anti tagging them on twit with a hateful message, report and block and send 20 i love you’s if you feel like it).

bts are nothing like those anti posts say! do not give them your time, bts are happy, we are happy for and with them. there will always be hate, they’ve been public figures since 2013, i’m sure they’re learning how to deal with it, but their success and our love shower for them with always speak volumes louder! :)

in the mean time read namjoon’s ment on the last day of their wings tour (yesterday 171210, we’re all still recovering from the amout of tears lost in the process), more than my words, namjoon does a way better job at consoling you than i do!

have fun falling in love with them my friend, enjoy the ride!!!

(maybe i’m too chill to worry about drama or maybe i’m too old for this who knows haha i hope i make sense in every sentence of this since i tend to forget words oops)

[miraimisu]

This past month I've been reading nonstop kacchako fanfics. But all I want rn is to read some sort of au where they are already adults. Can u do #92?

I don’t usually read much adult casual kacchako, so this was a bit of a struggle? I liked this prompt a lot because it allows one to explore a bit of Bakugou’s character. Thanks for sending it in, and hope you enjoy it! ♥

Once, Bakugou had time and space for himself. It wasn’t something he really noticed, but something he had like humankind breathes: it’s unnoticed, unvoluntary, and you only know you once had it when it disappears from your life. And it’s not like he was dying, drowning, or something like that– actually. he wasn’t really sure what to do with this newfound discovery.

He had just seen a bottle of her shampoo by his. White against orange. Citrus against something sweeter, a scent he definitely loved but couldn’t really name. Was it caramel? He didn’t fucking know, but a part of him was dying to discover.

And yes, this was a petty matter compared to all the things that had been going on inside his head at that moment– he had lots of paperwork to do, a meeting with a Kirishima for some field improvement and there was this kid causing trouble among some citizens. Before he had dwelled on how much that kid reminded him of himself back in more innocent days, that fucking shampoo bottle had appeared in his peripheral vision.

And really, he couldn’t stop thinking about it– because the more he looked into his stuff, the more things he found that didn’t belong to him, but Uraraka. He looked at his hairbrush– there was hers. Clothes? He had a few of her scarfs and some sweaters had ended up at his apartment, the same way that she kept some of his shirts and sweatpants. 

Before he seen it coming, tons of her things had ended up at his apartment, and his had gotten mixed up with hers at her apartment. This discovery left him speechless for a second, he stopped drying his hair to peek at the shampoo bottle and glare– glare because that damn thing had made its way into his place and it was making him think, and he hated thinking so deeply.

But he still did anyway. Now that he thought about it, Uraraka had been with him for a long time. And yes, this word formation was frightengly accurate because Bakugou took his sweet time to ask her out formally, and finally admitting to having real deep feelings for her took another decade. Imagine how happy and relieved Uraraka was to know that pining over him for that long had been worth it.

This also brought to his mind how much she had dedicated to their relationship. Uraraka had been the only person he knew who had been willing to stay up with him until late sunrise to watch some of his favourite movies, and even then he knew she despised the genres he picked. Sometimes, he’d do it on purpose to see if she was staying for the fun or for him, which prompted his interest in her.

She had also had to suffer his uncontrollable fits of ire towards her best friend, which once ended up in a heated discussion behind the arcade building. 

“I can’t believe you dared to hit Deku with a controller!”

“I can’t believe you almost didn’t let me hit the bastard with the controller!” retorted he, arms crossed. He looked at her stiff figure, and there was no way she was backing down from this. Oh, this was gonna take long. “He was too damn close to you, Uraraka! How did you expect me to hold that in?”

“Why are you so territorial? I am not going to start making out with Deku if he brushes my arm, for crying out loud!”

That earned her to be pinned against the brick walls, his red irises stunning hers with an impecable force of rage and passion. “Don’t you even dare bring such scenenario up. That loser ain’t touching you anytime soon.”

She folded her arms. His closeness wasn’t eliciting any kind of alarming reaction from her, as she was already used to his proximity in all kinds of ways. “It’s not like I’m going to throw myself to his arms when you turn around… or maybe I will?” she peeked from under her lashes to find him literally fuming at the thought. Uraraka giggled. “I at least gave him a good beating. I don’t see you bringing that up.”

That made him smirk, showing an astounding amout of teeth that gave her all kinds of lovebites all over her body. “I didn’t fucking expect less from you.”

After a good laugh and something about her not going to pull away from Deku as he wanted, he shut her up – as he did often when she talked too much – with a searing kiss that left all kinds of atrocities on her pearly skin. But that was another story.

Yeah, sex was amazing too. But he didn’t want to end up crazier than he was already with all her stuff around him– it seemed like everytime she dropped by, she would leave a goodie around. And every single motherfucker of them was starting to pop up from nowhere, he hadn’t seen them coming, and it was driving him nuts.

It’s not like they were a hassle. In fact, they were everything but. She would sometimes make dinner for him and bring her own kitchen gear to his place– they were easier to work with, she would always retort, but her voice was so chipper and excited that he would always forget to tell her about taking her things with her.

Some made him remember she had been there with him: sleeping on the couch, on the bed, on the floor (crazy night, other story). And he didn’t know why he was so needy for her presence, but Bakugou wasn’t very bothered with needing her. Heck, her being gone would be a real problem.

Which prompted the next question. What was he going to do now?

He could do two things: he could gather all her things into a box, drive to her apartment and drop them there in a casual manner (extra points if he got to see her and some morning kisses from her) and then leave, the message loud and clear that he needed privacy– but this wasn’t what he really wanted, not at all.

In fact, he wanted more. Day by day, her presence bore into him like a knife, twisting inside his guts as to not let the wound close, her presence only digging more and more into his heart until he was no longer the same man.

That had happened long ago. All his friends knew about this, how he had changed and they actually praised him for keeping a girl like Uraraka by his side. They were already full-fledged adults, but some people still kept on nagging at him with how surprising it was that a man like him had ended up with a girl like her.

It sometimes scared the shit out of him. And those times would drive him to her apartment, which smelled like home having spent so many nights there, so she could kiss his fears away.

Still, no temporary arrangement would work anymore, which led him to the second option. And this final option scared him, intimidated him– it had him cornered for two damn hours, his head pounding with responsability and all the risks of asking, of suggesting, all knowing that she was a carefree, independent individual. 

After many minutes of final rechap, he decided that he was gonna ask her the final question that night, or as he liked to refer to it, drop the bomb. He had called Kirishima over for some couseling and the redhead had wholeheartedly agreed to the decision and even went to his apartment so he could see Uraraka’s damages in it, grabbing some goodies– when his hand reached the fabric of one of Uraraka’s bras deep inside his closet, Bakugou gave him a hell beating.

He had still tried to give him some advise despite his several swelling injuries. “Just be yourself, but without so much swearing and trying to be nice.” then, he shook his head. “Actually, just be polite to her and you’ll have her in your hands like goo.”

Another slap sufficed and Kirishima shut up for the remaining time before his date with Uraraka. He was wearing his best tie, best shirt, best pants, and best shoes. His shirt arrived wrinkled, a bit sweaty, pants slightly undone and tie unkempt. Of course Bakugou couldn’t let perfect things near him remain perfect– after all, his swearing habit rubbed off on Uraraka and he swore he felt like a parent when he chided her.

This was instantly proven right when she saw him coming. She was wearing that pink and black dress he adored with her lips coated in light gloss. Perfect clothing to get rid off meeting kissable lips. This was going to be a perfect night.

“You’re a bit late, you know.” reprimanded her, arms crossed in an adorable pout. “You sure took your sweet damn time. I would swear you were punctual when we started going out.”

“Stop bitching about it.” he swung his arm over her shoulders casually as they walked along the riverside, on a bridge. “I am not that late and I bet my ass you just got here.”

“Meanie.”

Turns out that a few meters ahead, there was a board full of papers, numbers, and local festivities, all in shining colors that easily caught his attention. However, right in the middle of the wooden thingy, a photo of a big house in the outskirts of the city, mildly cheap, all clean and just in the fucking actual middle, as if meant to be seen by him–

He thanked whoever was behind this for mercy, blessed luck, and made her stop.

“Do you like this house?”

She looked to her side, eyes diverting from the upcoming bonfire to look at the house in question. There was a kind smile sketched on her features as a spark lit up within her irises, and Bakugou smirked. This was a pleasant reaction. “It seems cozy, and I like the colors. I had eyed it a while ago.”

She deemed the conversation to be over and marched on without him, but she could only walk a few steps away before his hand shot out and dragged her to him. 

It was now or never. 

With all courage he had been gathering all these years– the courage to fight villains, the courage to ask her out, courage to fight monsters, courage to fight against his own fears. Suddenly it all came down to this, but the question was asked leisurely, shaking slightly.

“So,” Bakugou smiled at her, more nervous than he thought he would be. There was this awkward edge to his voice, suddenly afraid to look at her. What if she said no, what if she rejected the idea? “wanna move in?”

Because her things were almost his, because his apartment smelled like her and the sheets of his beds twitched in her absence. He needed her, wanted to wake up to her bedhead and morning lazy kisses, spend those boring Sunday afternoons together watching cheesy movies and hit the bed right next to her– right where he belonged.

Right where she belonged, her space being his, too.

Two months later, the mailbox of this very same house had their names written in cursive letters, and her shampoo bottle sat beside his for days to come.