#there’s only one pair of close toed shoes I actually like

[idkwhyimhere5462]

Sometimes, I’m trying to type shoe and I accidentally type out Sheo, like Sheogorath. Then, I get sad I’m not typing about Sheogorath and instead typing about something boring like that shoes are nothing but feet prisons and that the invention of them was the worst thing to happen to humanity.

[nicxl333]

October 3rd - ITOSHI SAE

“how many times do i have to fill you up for you to get there’s no one but you. ‘m gonna keep going till you understand.”

content: 18+, nsfw, breeding, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, spanking, rough sex, argument, afab! reader

☆彡

“it was nothing? so why the fuck am i seeing another girl pressed up against you in the tabloids?!”

you threw your bag onto the side table by the entrance of your penthouse, storming in with sae in your wake. you were beyond fuming, and he knew it. you turned to face him, hand on your hip.

“if it was nothing why weren’t you phased by it? better yet, why would you even neglect to tell me you were doing a photoshoot with a model? you’ve never had a problem telling me prior, so why not now?!”

sae toed off his shoes and released the tie from around his neck, allowing a slight amount of solace to ease the rising tension in the room.

“i already told you, the crew didn’t tell me until i was on set with her. everything in that photoshoot was for the purpose of my contract with this brand. i had no say in it whether you like it or not.”

“whether i like it or- sae! can’t you understand how that makes me feel? whether or not you didn’t know prior, why am i having to find out through the tabloids? you had every and all opportunity to tell me after your shoot was done.”

you took a step closer to him, until you were right in front of him. it’s a shame you were arguing really, because he looked so delectable staring down at you. the way his chest rose and fell, the notes of his cedarwood cologne wafting through your nostrils, the stray strand of hair falling over his piercing eyes.

if you were to reenact what was playing out in your mind right now, it would most certainly be the image of his thick, veiny cock drilling into your sopping wet cavity. alas, he just had to be a dickhead.

“you say i’m the only one, but why are you constantly in the news, paired up with another girl, yet i’m the one hidden away. why should i be made to feel like i’m always competing for you?”

he matched your energy, taking one minuscule step, so that you were almost chest to chest, your clothes partially kissing every once in a while. his right hand raised to your chin, tilting your head upwards, capturing your attention in a ethereal whirlwind. his cologne was intoxicating now, making you slightly dizzy. your heart picked up moderately, pulsing in anxious anticipation wondering what he would do next. one thing about sae, he was unpredictable, so as of right now, you were unsure of where this argument was heading.

he leaned down, so that he was mere millimetres away from your lips. your heart was thudding now, which lead you to wonder if he could potentially hear it too. he was close, too close. if you swayed even just slightly forward, your lips would just about tou-

“distracted? i’m talking to you y’know.”

him and his smart mouth.

dazed, you stepped away from him slightly, to insert some distance and reclaim some authority.

“the media will always make things out differently to what they actually are, you know that much.” he started walking towards you, while you started walking backwards. this continued until you hit the wall of the hallway, just adjacent to the door of your bedroom. both hands at either end sealed you in between him, no escape from his intoxicating presence. he leaned in once again, whispering to you this time.

“you think there’s competition? i’ll show you why you’re wrong.”

before you could say anything, his lips captured yours, his right hand gravitating downwards to lift your left leg and wrap it around his waist. your dress rose up enough for your underwear to be slightly exposed to him. you kissed him back, your tongue entangling his in a slow and sensual dance. one hand placed itself on his chest, feeling his chiseled abs underneath, while the other wrapped around the back of his neck, pressing him further into you.

it was wet, it was hot, it was sloppy, but all you could think about was how you wanted, how you needed more.

to make matters worse, you could feel the tent in his black dress pants pressing up against your partially soaked underwear. in a bout of pettiness from him essentially deflecting from the argument, you pushed yourself against it, inciting a low groan from sae, although swallowed by your tongue enveloping his once more. in response, his hand left your thigh, travelling under your dress, and gripped your ass, causing you to moan out in a mixture of shock and arousal.

“jump.”

you followed his command, releasing any reservations about how things turned out and essentially dismissing the previous fucks you had.

his hands supported your body weight, and led you to your shared bedroom, placing you down with ever so tender loving care. he slid your dress off, your underwear following. he then pushed you down so you lay on your back, although you rose slightly and rested on your elbows to see what he was doing. you watched on as he hovered over your breasts, lowering his lips to the left one, and rolling his tongue over the hardened pebble. your body seized up in impatient pleasure as his lips enclosed over the nipple, giving it a long, hard suck. he made sure not to derive the other of any attention, his left hand fondling the other one as he satisfied you. your soft moans filled the room, your empty, wet pussy throbbing in want.

“sae. i need more.”

in an instantaneous response you felt his left hand snaking down towards your cunt, spreading your folds and slowly circling your bud. the motion was light and slow, a long method of torture to your impeding orgasm. sae knew this too, but he loved seeing you like this, falling apart in front of his eyes and writhing for more. reason being it reminded him of the exact reason why no other girl would ever compare to you. the way your eyesbrows would knit up, your soft whines indicating how sensitive you were, how your back arched when you came and you would turn your face to the side. no one could do it like you, not even close.

his long fingers slipped into your wet pussy with no restraint, immediately curling upwards and thrusting. his fingers were so free flowing that even though you were his first experience, it made you wonder if he somehow had more than he was letting on. you moaned out, legs threatening to shut. he was one step ahead of you however, prying them back open and increasing the intensity of his strokes.

“it shouldn’t have to take me fucking you like this for you to realise you’re the only one for me. you think i’d do this for anyone else? fat chance in hell.”

“but you don’t express yourself sae, how am i supposed to know?” you whined. “i just wanna have my boyfriend to myself, is that such a problem?” the end of your sentence came out high pitched, thanks to sae quickly leading you to an orgasm. your back arched and your pussy tightened on his fingers, restricting them from moving any further.

“i never said it is, but i’ve told you there is no one else. i get i should’ve told you beforehand, but i’ve never given you any reason to believe otherwise.”

he pulled his fingers out, your cum spinning webs around them. he raised them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact while he sucked off your secretion, swallowing shortly after. he then leaned down to kiss you, his hand wrapping around your neck to hold you in place. your hand in response reached down, feeling up the tent in his pants. you needed his dick inside you now, stretching you out to a point where you couldn’t think, let alone say anything.

“sae, please, please, just give it to me. stop playing around.”

“impatient much?”

“you’re so mean.” you whined.

he rose to his feet, unbuckling his belt to lower his trousers and free his restrained cock. it was pink, angry and begging for attention. the veins were extremely prominent, branching out all over. to top it all off, the tip was glistening with pre-cum, dribbling out slightly each time his cock pulsated, matched to the rhythm of his heartbeat. no matter how many times you had sex, every-time his heart never failed to race with the thrill of sinking into you.

“turn around.”

you followed his instruction, knowing you were about to get fucked up. you decided to play into it, arching just how he liked, ass all out on display.

he lined himself up and gave you an experimental rub with his dick. just to see how bad you really needed it. you whined once more, your ass automatically pushing to meet his dick. it was then he realised he reached his limit.

he pushed into you with a strangled grunt. you were hot, scorching even - most of all tight. your cunt immediately enveloped his dick in a strangulating hug. he had to stop himself, couldn’t carry on. if he did, he felt like he would cum. he could feel himself throbbing violently. it scared him. this time was different. who knows if it was the product of your fresh argument, but this time brought about a whole new sense of responsibility, possession he had over you. the kind of possession that told him to fill you up over and over again.

his thoughts were shattered to smithereens when you to fuck yourself on him, deciding to take matters into your own hands. your thrusts were so powerful that such an esteemed soccer player like him (who’s duty was to score and defend against grown men), was struggling to hold form. you moaned out in overwhelming ecstasy, and it was then he realised that you were going to make yourself cum whether he did anything or not. he pulled out till just the tip remained, and pushed back in with a heave. you arched into him, a chill running down the entirety of your spine. he set immediately into a rhythm, fucking you with harsh passion and precision. no stroke was different, each one hitting that exact spot that had you squirming. you cried out in pure bliss, your eyes pricking tears as you struggled to keep composed at the sheer power of his thrusts. he grabbed both of your hands, crossing them behind your back, using them as leverage to drill into you harder.

“you think i’d ever give anyone else the satisfaction of feeling what you’re feeling right now? you think anyone could ever come close?”

you didn’t answer him. you physically couldn’t. he was actively rendering you incapacitated, draining any sort of strength you could have to refute him. he didn’t like the silence though, his right palm raising, and striking your left cheek. your body jolted in pain and arousal, your pussy clenching around him tighter than ever before.

“answer me. you had every bit of energy to accuse me, but now you want to be silent?”

“no one sae! there’s no one else! only me!”

“good, good girl. now be quiet and take my dick. arch your back further and let me make you cum again.”

you did what he asked while he angled himself differently to hit your g-spot specifically. from this alone you knew you were about to cum again. your back arched, your grip on sae strengthened and a bolt of electricity ran through your spine. sae powered right on through your orgasm, even having the audacity to speed up.

he started throbbing once again, his limits bursting out. he buried his head in the crook of your neck, softly groaning while his pace turned sloppy and irregular. you felt yourself becoming full as he filled you up to the brim with ropes of his cum.

you breathed a sigh of relief while the mixture of yours and sae’s cum started to drop out of you. all was silent for a moment and you thought he was done with, until you realised he was still hard.

it was at that moment, he rose up, grabbing your hips and giving you one hard thrust that shook the whole bed. you moaned out in surprise, shock and pure overstimulation.

“you should know by now that there’s no one but you y/n. i don’t know how you don’t realise no one comes close. how many times do i have to fill you up for you to get there’s no one but you. ‘m gonna keep going till you understand.”

please note: hi guys, i just wanted to say this is not proof read. something came up last minute today so i had to decide between not posting today or just posting it now and making my adjustments at a later time. my word is my word though so here is my first kinktober oneshot! enjoy <3

[calumfmu]

divorce lawyer steve is the loml 😍

could we see him finally meeting the husband you’re divorcing? 😉

Shorter one, but you know--had to do this to build the little universe better.

Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader [part one. part two.]

cw: smut-ish (interrupted), vulgar language, slut shaming, older!Steve, two idiots in love

“What are you doing here?”

Steve stood in your doorway, semi casually dressed—to his standards. White button down, pushed to the elbows, navy blue pants, brown loafers. His glasses were missing from his face, hair disheveled as he seemed to be more dressed down.

“I was in town?” His voice was gravelly, as he hadn’t expected you to open the door before he even knocked. You were on your way out, a normal visit to the inner city to drown out the past few months with partying.

“You live on the other side of New York.”

“Ah.”

You two sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. It was the first time around him you had felt uncomfortable, if you had even wanted to call it that.

“What’s that?” Your finger pointed to a box, wrapped in black paper, glossy, with a single bow.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

He was acting suspicious, not quite meeting eye contact as he stood in your doorway, looking like a scared cat that could flee at any moment. You grabbed the box anyways, snatching it from his hands before turning on your heel to go into your living area, plopping down on the couch.

As you began to unwrap the gift, he remained at the door, hands shoved in his pockets. You eyed him, raising an eyebrow as you took off the last bits of paper on the box.

“Stop being weird, old man,” an exasperated sigh left your mouth as he grumbled to himself, not pleased with your comment referencing his age.

It had been about a month of being his client, discussing paperwork, the details of separation, fucking him behind closed doors. The last part shouldn’t be apart of the equation, but one look at him, you couldn’t resist the temptation.

As the door to your apartment closed behind him, he stepped in, taking a wide look at the room around him. Moving boxes were still present, shoved into the corners of the room, scribbles of your name on the cardboard. You didn’t know what he was expecting—you to be living this lavish life in a lavish apartment, but it was home to you. Home to you at least for now.

You gasped loudly, slapping your hands to your mouth as you finally took a look inside of the box. Manolo Blahnik Mary Jane’s, patent leather shiny as ever, sitting there and dying to be worn.

“Steve!” Your mouth was wide open, surprise evident as you were had no idea was even aware of this side of heaven—shoe heaven. Grabbing the shoes, you immediately toed off your others, trading them for the gifted heels. Perfect fit. “You shouldn’t have!”

Giddy with emotion, you ran over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. A sloppy kiss landed on his cheek, the grimace in return as your entire body weight leaned on him. Slowly his arms came to snake around your waist, gripping the skin around your middle section.

His eyes met yours as he stared down at you, warm, chocolate brown with a whole world to offer. In this lighting, you could truly see his beauty, how age only made him more angelic, filled with fine lines and moles dotting his cheeks.

“You said I owed you, so…” he shrugged, a smug look crossing his face as he took in how grateful you truly were for the gift.

“You didn’t actually have to,” you replied, trailing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “The other pair wasn’t actually ruined, and these are so… so-”

“Think of it as an early separation gift.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth. Just as you turned to lean into the kiss, he pulled away, a slight dip of his eyebrow in teasing manner.

“Steve Harrington, what am I going to do with you?”

He looked away from you, smiling into the distance as you looked down at your shoes once more, squealing with delight. This was all too domestic, too inappropriate for what your relationship should be with him, especially only a month in—yet not a relationship at all, but who was anyone to tell you differently?

Sinking down to your knees, you were careful to not scuff the gifted shoes, settling on the balls of your feet. You reached for his belt buckle, hastily working the metal between your fingers. His hand instinctively came to your head, tangling in the hair as he gasped.

“What-what’s—no, you don’t have to-” His words became jumbled as you smirked up at him, blinking through long lashes.

Faux pouting, you freed his zipper, slowly pulling it down with the lightest touch of your fingers.

“I could tell you about this Ferragamo dress I’ve been eyeing,” you whispered, biting your lip as you began to palm his through his exposed underwear. His head dipped back quickly, his eyes rolling shut. “Or—I could show you how grateful I really am.”

He nodded down at you, tightening his grip in your hair as you pressed a kiss to his groin, staring up at him through it. A shuttered breath escaped him, slow and jagged, his eyes watching the quick dart of your tongue dampening the material.

Just as you pulled him out of his restraint, a rapid knock was heard at the door. Steve craned his head back, silently cursing to himself as you wrapped a hand around him, moving slowly over the velvety skin of his shaft.

“Should you get that?”

“They’ll go away.” An open mouth kiss was pressed to his head, licking away the beaded pearl at the tip. The salted skin had you drooling, already craving more.

The knock was more urgent this time, a male voice heard through the thick wood of the door. It made the both of you pause in your tracks, Steve’s eyes widening, your mouth half way around him.

“Is that-?”

“You think-?”

It took only one more knock before the two of you were making haste, Steve’s pants sliding up with a jump, you wiping the corners of your mouth. The both of you were trying to appear normal, appear like actual lawyer and client inside of whatever this was.

Rushing over to the door, you have one last look at Steve, him lingering over the kitchen island as he grabbed a random folder, grateful that it had been documents relevant to the divorce settlement.

Your soon-to-be-ex’s eyes were small as he took you in, eyes dragging down your figure. His looks, those in which you had once thought were beautiful, seemed devious, up to no good while he stood before you.

“New outfit? Looks slutty,” he muttered, pushing his way into your apartment. He looked around, focusing on the boxes in the corner of the apartment, taking in every minuscule detail of the room.

“Aw damn, I was hoping for more tramp-y,” you were firm in your words, but insecure nonetheless. You felt exposed as he stood there, nervous that he would instantly know what you and Steve had previously been up to.

Taking notice of the older man in the corner of the room, your ex adjusted his suit, shirt unbuttoned down to below mid-chest exposing firm muscle that had your eyes rolling. He put on a bravado-type show, puffing out his chest like some animal trying to intimidate its prey. Steve didn't notice.

You leaned a hip against your couch, arms crossed against your chest, eyes rolling back as your ex continued to do whatever he was doing.

"Is there a reason you're on my side of town?"

Steve finally turned around at the sound of your voice, pulling his wire frames out of his pants pocket and sliding them onto his face. If there was just the privacy of you two, you would've jumped him by now. Barely looking at the younger man, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him.

"Your side of town?" His NY accent was thick, home to the city you now call home. "Didn't realize that was on the table for the divorce."

"Speaking of terms of settlement, I don't think it's quite appropriate that you're here right now," Steve's voice drew the staring competition that you two began, two stubborn attitudes gnawing at each other. You were reluctant to pull your eyes away from the man, noticing just how cheap his expensive suit looked on him.

Your ex turned towards Steve, hands on his hips, chest poked out, styled hair coiffed on his head. Its style didn't compare to the older man—and he had about 20 years on him.

"And who might you be, old man?"

Steve's reply was a tick of his jaw, tongue smacking against his teeth as he walked up to meet the man. A hand shot out for him to shake, although it was left unmet. Your ex-partner just stared down at it, thumb reaching out to rub against his bottom lip.

"Harrington, Steve Harrington. Representing the young lady over here." Sighing, Steve tucked the hand into his pocket, stifling his own eye roll at the rude gesture. He shared a brief look with you, understanding now why you wanted out of the marriage so badly. Even by this barely thirty second interaction.

"Mm, bet you're sleeping with her, grandpa," your ex's words had you stifling a giggle, your teeth digging into the palm of your hand to stop the sound. It wasn't that his words were funny, but more so Steve's reaction to it.

He had cleared his throat, rather loudly, tugged at his collar that hung loosely at his neck. Obvious wasn't the word to put it, just a surge of an uncomfortable feeling that overcame him. One thing you could count on was your ex-husband being dense as ever, grateful that he hadn't caught the movement he had made.

"Hardly ever professional," Steve answered, clasping his hands in front of him. "Even to joke about, young man."

He was met with a response similar to his original, a tick of the jaw and eyes cut towards him. The younger man hated the turn of the namecalling back, even despite calling Steve everything other than the word 'geriatric' itself.

"I can bet you want to. I mean, look at her."

"Sir."

The irritation that stemmed from the nicknames towards him geared towards the comments made about you, Steve pinched his nose bridge. He shoved the papers to the side, tugged on the sides of his jackets, straightened his posture. Taking a step towards you, he brushed past the younger guy.

"I have a meeting starting up soon," he said, crowding your space. One of his hands brushed against the side of your thigh, a gesture that went unnoticed by the other party in the room, definitely noticed by you. Butterflies began in the pit of your stomach, tingling lower as your skin burned with the touch of his hand. "We can meet at my office, our scheduled twelve."

As you began to answer, your ex spoke up for you, waving his hands in the air as he made his way towards the door instead.

"I'm heading out, you can relax, geezer," your ex opened the door, lingering for a moment more. "I was just stopping by to see what more my lawyer can collect."

He threw a wink towards you, nodding in Steve's direction.

"Better suit up well, pal. It's only going to get worse from here."

The door shut behind him, silence hanging heavy in the air as the two of you sat there—stunned silence. It took only seconds for you to start laughing as soon as that door closed, leaning against the couch with your hands covering your mouth, feet in the air as you sat on the back of the furniture. Steve shook his head at you, running his hands through his hair.

"Really? Him?"

You nodded, cackling at the mess that was left behind by the few words that were shared between the men. Taking a step in your direction, Steve found space between your open legs, hands resting on the couch outside of your thighs.

"There's no way he could've been anything other than that," Steve huffed a laugh finally, hanging his head as your giggles finally came to a stop.

You ran your hands up the front of his chest, the fabric of his shirt running between your fingers. Tugging at the material, you brought his face closer to your own, inches away from each other as you stared up into his eyes. That chocolate brown had you smiling softly, comfort easing the anxiety that had settled at your chest from the earlier interaction.

"Shut up and kiss me, old man."

Steve smiled widely, eyebrows shooting up. Humor found him at your words, different than the earlier reactions given. "Oh, you guys were perfect for each other."

You pressed your lips to his, slotting perfectly into his shape. It was a chaste kiss, a subtle press of lips that warmed your core.

"But I think you're perfect for me now."

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

[system-to-the-madness]

Strawberry Daifuku - Sugawara Kōshi x Reader

Pairing: Sugawara Kōshi x fem!Reader AU: college!AU Genre: hurt/comfort Word Count: 3 144 Summary: Suga plans to confess to you the day before Valentine’s Day, but the conversation takes a different turn A/N: I know, usually chocolates are given on Valentine’s Day, not Daifuku (filled mochi), but I made some today for the first time so…

Masterlist

Sugawara Kōshi was not entirely sure why he felt like a complete fool, standing in front of your door, and yet hesitating to ring. It was the thirteenth of February, just one day before Valentine’s Day, and while he knew that on Valentine’s Day the girls were supposed to confess, he felt like he actually couldn’t stand bottling up his feelings even one day more. Especially when he was placing his bets on you confessing first.

Would he even have a chance with you?

It was weird, he had known you for three years already, having met you at the entrance exams to the university. You had talked then, and when you had bumped into one another at the orientation a few months later, it felt like you both had chosen the other as your ride-or-die. After that it hadn’t taken Sugawara long to fall for you. It had crept in on him since day one, he realized, and the following years he had tried his best to keep his feelings in check.

But what were you feeling for him? He wasn’t sure.

He knew you considered him as one of your closest friends, so there was definitely the risk of losing this friendship if he confessed and you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. But then again, you were both finished with your third year of university. The next year would barely consist of classes, instead you’d both focus on your part-time jobs. You already had a job-offer lined up for after graduation, and Sugawara was aiming to join the masters-degree in one year before starting to work as a teacher. That meant, in the next year you’d both be busy, you’d both drift apart. You might never again be as close to each other as right now, so this felt like the last possible moment to tell you the truth.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow and the chance that maybe you would confess. Not that he thought you might. You didn’t exactly act like you were interested in him in that way.

Admittedly, he also didn’t know what you acted like when you were interested in someone. In the three years of your friendship, he had never once seen you express any sort of interest in anyone. Which, as foolish as it was, had always given him the hope, that he might have a chance to worm himself into your heart after all.

The person brushing past him in the stairwell on their way downstairs tore him out of his thoughts. Still feeling incredibly foolish, he exhaled with a sigh and pressed the doorbell. The ringing could be heard through the door, and a moment later the sound of something cluttering and muffled swearing.

Suga hid his giggle, and quickly straightened his face when he heard steps approaching the door. A moment later it swung open, revealing you, dressed in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized shirt and an apron. You only took a quick look at Suga’s face before you already turned around again.

“Come in,” you greeted, “I have something on the stove.” Aaaand you were gone again.

Quickly Suga pushed his foot into the closing door, stopping it from falling into the lock. Mumbling a quiet ‘Ojamashimasu’ as he stepped into your flat, he toed of his shoes in the genkan and followed you into the kitchen, just in time to see you pull a pot from the stovetop, and pouring the white, liquid content into a bowl.

“Cooking,” he asked, stepping closer to see what you were making.

“Uhm, not really. Making chocolates,” you corrected, taking a whisk, and beginning to stir. That was when Suga spied the carton of cream and the empty chocolate bar wrappers on the counter.

“Oh, for tomorrow?” He hadn’t imagined bringing up the topic so quickly.

“What’s tomorrow?” Or not.

“Valentine’s Day…”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, mixing the cream with the melting chocolate. “You know me, I stopped giving away Valentine’s Day chocolates after middle school.”

“I just thought, you know, making chocolates on the day before Valentine’s…” Suga trailed of. “Maybe there’s someone you want to confess to.”

You chuckled amused. “I wouldn’t confess to someone just because it’s Valentine’s Day. The chances of getting rejected are just as high as every other day of the year.”

“Wait, you’ve never tried confessing to someone on Valentine’s Day?” So his chances of getting a confession from you tomorrow had never existed anyway. But also, it suddenly made him doubt that it might be a good idea to confess to you now.

“No,” you admitted, stirring the chocolate-cream mix a little harder. “I wouldn’t confess to someone unless I were fairly certain they’d reciprocate my feelings… Besides, why should I confess to someone, if they’ve can’t be bothered to confess to me any other day of the year? Apparently, they’re not interested enough in me, for me to make the effort of confessing on that one special day. If I want to confess, I might do it as well on any other day. And besides, I’ve never seen the sense in confessing just to confess. And it makes things awkward, especially if it happens between friends.”

Suga felt his heart dropping. Had you figured out his feelings for you? Was this your way of saying ‘Keep that confession and let’s pretend everything’s back to normal’?

“I think most people who confess, knowing their feelings aren’t reciprocated, do so for closure,” Suga said, wondering why his voice suddenly sounded so sharp.

You seemed to have noticed his change in tone, too, looking up from the bowl you had kept stirring.

“Yeah, of course. And if that works for them, that’s cool. Doesn’t mean it would work for me.”

Suga blinked. He felt like he had been rejected even without having confessed anything yet.

“Sooo, you’re just making chocolates for fun? Or as friendship-chocolates?”

“For fun, I doubt anyone would want to eat my chocolates,” you laughed, as if trying to dispense the suddenly tense atmosphere.

“I would,” Suga shrugged, making you look up again.

“Is that your way of saying after three years you’re finally expecting chocolates on Valentine’s Day from me,” you laughed again, raising your eyebrows at him teasingly.

“Well, not expecting,” Suga defended, making you laugh even more. Oh, how he loved that sound. “Just… I wouldn’t complain.”

“Yeah, you and sweets,” you laughed. “But friendship-chocolates are usually store-bought, right? Wouldn’t it be weird to give you homemade ones?”

“I don’t care, chocolate is chocolate,” Suga mumbled, but he couldn’t deny that getting to eat something you had made would mean more to him than getting something he could as well have bought for himself in the store. “I mean, all you have to do is say ‘Those are friendship-chocolates’ and the other person knows what’s going on, right?”

“I guess so,” you agreed, grabbing the bowl you had been stirring the chocolate in, and emptying the contents into a prepared form, laid out with baking paper. “Aw man, this is not turning out nice.”

Suga couldn’t help the giggle that slipped over his lips as he watched you try to smooth down the surface of the chocolate in the baking tray, but it kept sticking to the knife you were using, creating waves, and refusing to smooth down.

“Oh, by the way, why did you drop by?”

Right, there had been a very specific reason. When he had stepped into your small flat, he had been very certain he would finally have the courage to confess his feelings for you. But now…?

The conversation of the past minutes had taken any confidence he had had. Not only was he more convinced than ever that you didn’t like him back, but you had also made it quite clear, that you would think it would make things awkward if someone confessed to you, who you didn’t feel the same way about. And suddenly he felt like it would be best to lie, as usual, while also trying to make his escape as quickly as possible.

“Oh, no reason really,” he answered, but there was one thought in the back of his mind that he just couldn’t get rid of. “Do you really think, someone who truly likes you, wouldn’t confess just because they can’t be bothered?”

“Well, no, of course not,” you sighed, still fighting a silent battle with the chocolate. “It takes tremendous amounts of courage to confess. And perhaps the person thinks just like me, that it’s not worth confessing if they’re not sure I like them. But if they aren’t sure I like them, it’s probably because I don’t. Because I’m really bad at hiding when I like someone, so if I did, they probably would have noticed very quickly. Why do you ask?”

Giving up the fight with the chocolate, you stood up straight, giving Suga a long look as if you expected him to say something. It felt like the way you were looking at him caused something inside of him to tense, all these feelings he had buried deep inside his chest for so long.

Couldn’t you avert your gaze? It was driving him crazy, made him feel like you were reading deep in his soul, laying bare all his well-kept secrets. And then it was too much. Just a minute ago he had decided against telling you the real reason for his visit, and now-

“The real reason I came here today was to tell you that I’ve been in love with you for the past three years.” The words came over his lips so quickly and fluently, he didn’t even know how the phrase had formed in his mind, and before he could quite register the surprised expression in your eyes, or the way your mouth dropped into a tiny “o”, or the way your breath hitched, he continued. “I know you think it will make things awkward, and it probably will. But I owe it to myself to be honest about the way I feel, and I’ve lied to myself for long enough, telling myself it’s okay to just have you as a friend until you eventually fall in love with someone and get together with them. But the truth is, I couldn’t stand that pain. I still value as a friend, but until I’ve dealt with these feelings, it wouldn’t be fair, not to either of us, to continue like this. Sorry.”

Not giving you a chance to respond, not wanting to hear those fateful words of ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t feel that way about you’, he quickly turned around, slipped into his shoes, not bothering to put them on properly, and escaped through the front door. It really felt like an escape, out of that small room of yours that smelled so nicely of chocolate and the laundry detergent you used and your shampoo. Out of that room that seemed to close in on him with every second that the realization increased that he’d never get to call himself yours. Just out of that room. And away from you.

The door was already falling into it’s lock when you called for him, your voice carrying something akin to panic, but Suga ignored you, just sprinted down the steps, grabbed his bike and made sure he got home as quickly as possible, hoping nobody would see his quivering lip or the tears on his cheeks.

-

Suga tried to call Daichi at last half a dozen times before he turned off his phone, unable to see your name appearing on the screen again and again as you tried calling him. Daichi was probably still at work, so he couldn’t answer, Suga reminded himself, as he buried himself in the blankets on his bed, turning on some anime he had watched over the past few weeks. Outside it had gotten dark quickly after he had returned home, and eventually he had fallen asleep to the noise of the show still running on the small screen of his laptop.

The next morning was, much to Suga’s dismay, bright and sunny. The weather had quickly taken a warm turn after the cold of January, plum blossoms already blooming on the trees he could see from the window in his dorm. Yesterday around this time, he had still imagined what it would be like to take you out for a date today. Nothing grand, maybe buy some cake at the small bakery at the corner, or at the convenience store, take a blanket and sit in the sun at the side of the river. But now the good weather did nothing but annoy him, so he pulled the curtains closed and tried to ignore the world outside. Which worked quite well, until the doorbell rang around noon. Wondering whether he had forgotten about an online order he had made, he got up and opened the door, only to come face to face with you.

You were nervous, he could tell that from even just a glance. Yesterday he had not only been disappointed and sad, but also angry, more at himself than anyone else. But now, with a bit of distance to his outbreak the day before, it was easier to stay calm.

“Happy Valentine’s,” you smiled shyly, avoiding his eyes, as you held out a small box to him. It was one of those cute Valentine’s Day paper boxes he had seen in the 100yen shop for the past weeks.

“Uhm…,” awkwardly Suga stood in the door, before hesitantly taking the box from you. “Wanna come in?”

“Are you sure?”

It felt like a stab to the heart. How had he managed to make you feel anything but welcome in his home in the span of a few minutes yesterday afternoon?

“Yeah, I mean…”

He stepped aside, holding the door open for you. You mumbled the usual greeting as you took off your shoes and stepped into the small, single room apartment.

“I tried making strawberry Daifuku. Emphasis on tried,” you explained, standing around a little helplessly. Suga motioned for you to sit down on one of the cushions of his small table on the floor. “I couldn’t find any red bean paste though, so I made them with chocolate cream.”

“You made them yourself,” Suga wondered, placing the small box on the table, and fetching two plates from the shelf above the sink.

“They’re for valentine’s day after all. So, I thought I might as well put in some effort. They’re kind of ugly though, just saying. Well, not ugly, they just look… authentically handmade.”

Suga giggled at your comment, placing the plates down on the table and fetching a bottle of milk tea and two classes.

“I thought you weren’t in the habit of handing out friendship-chocolates,” he teased. Sure, it kind of hurt, knowing you had rejected him yesterday, although technically you had never phrased it. He was just infinitely glad, that he hadn’t completely destroyed your friendship. “Or friendship-Daifuku, I guess.”

“No, I’m not,” you answered, and the suddenly tense tone made Suga freeze mid-motion, making him look up at you. “Those are not friendship-chocolates.”

“What?”

“They’re just… ordinary Valentine’s Day chocolates. The kind you give to the person you like, to confess to them. Because that’s what I’m here for. To tell you that I like you and have liked you a lot for a long time and- yeah. That’s why I’m here anyway.” You exhaled shakily, still not looking up at Suga, who stood like frozen half-way between the fridge and the table you were seated at.

He blinked a few times, trying to make your words make sense in his head. You liked him?

“Why didn’t you just say that yesterday,” he asked the first thought that popped into his mind.

“I tried,” you defended, finally looking up at him, and could see how close you were to bursting into tears. “I tried, but you just ran away and then wouldn’t answer my calls! And I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me after that…”

Suga swallowed thickly, walking the rest of the way over to you, crouching down besides you and placing the glasses down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot and confessing in such an undignified manner. And then running away before giving you the chance to answer. I messed up big time.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not. It’s really not. But unfortunately, I can’t change how much of an idiot I was in the past, so let me make it up to you? We can go for a walk, take the tea and the Daifuku, sit in the park for a bit and talk? If you’d like, that is.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, a smile finally tucking at your lips.

“Sounds like a date,” you teased, making his heart skip a beat.

“I was hoping for it to be one,” Suga grinned, standing back up.

He already knew exactly which spot in the park he wanted to take you to. Not the one underneath the plum blossoms. The grass there was in the shade, and without the sun it wouldn’t be warm enough for the thin jacket you were wearing. Instead, he’d take you to the other side of the river, that was in full early spring sun, from where you’d have a perfect view on the blossoms. And when you had eaten the treats which you had made and drunk the tea he would bring, he’d tell you again how much he liked you. Properly this time, without the annoyance and impatience in his voice, only with affection and warmth. Because you deserved nothing less than that.

Holding his hand out to you, he helped you off the floor, but didn’t let go immediately. Instead, he brought your hand up to his lips, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your knuckles that made both of your cheeks heat up.

When he pulled away, he quickly busied himself with throwing on a cardigan and pushing the bottle of milk tea he was still holding into one of the pockets before he grabbed the box of treats you had made for him and held his other hand out for you again. After a moment’s hesitation, you placed your own in his, watching as he closed his fingers around yours gently.

“Let’s go,” he smiled, guiding you out of the apartment, locking the door behind you. As he was walking down the stairs, the first box of sweets he had ever gotten for a Valentine’s Day in one hand, your hand in the other, he couldn’t wait to turn the rest of the day into the best first date either of you would have ever been able to imagine.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 4

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings: None, there's some mild dissociation that could count as harmful tho. YMMV.

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 4: soundless echoes

NyyaaaAAAAAHHHHHH—

“Yes, good afternoon, Pip!” Osha scooped up the tiny orange kitten from the floor the moment she got inside. Satisfied with the greeting, Pip ceased yelling and switched into what Osha called ‘chainsaw mode,’ purring at full volume. For a kitten that could still fit inside her shoes, he was a loud one. “You are such a loud boy today, have you never been pet in your life? Not ever?”

Osha toed off her shoes and left them in the tray to drip off excess snow and salt. “I’m in here!” Mae called from the kitchen.

Good. Just who Osha was looking for.

Mae was chopping vegetables for tonight’s family dinner. Sol lived just a floor above their apartment but preferred to keep his distance instead of coming over as much as he’d like. 

“You’ll never guess who I saw at the gym.”

Mae froze, eyes flicking up to her sister. “Who.”

“Your little mystery guy.”

“What? Why was he at the Temple?”

“Huh? No. I mean the apartment gym.”

“Here? Did he follow you or something?” Mae asked. Osha tilted her head in thought; didn’t she know he lived there? Maybe they weren’t as close as Osha thought, even after two years.

“No, he didn’t follow me. He lives here. Had the access fob and everything.”

“That’s so weird…” Mae shuddered. “Oh my god, is he a stalker? Is he stalking us?”

“I really don’t think he is,” Osha said, cutting her off before she spiraled.

I’ve known her two years and she didn’t trust me enough to hear the truth when I spoke it. Why would I let someone in if all they’d do is call my life a lie?

Mae really didn’t trust this guy. But she also didn’t know him—she wouldn’t have asked him the burning questions Osha had for him.

“Remember when you owed me a meal and explanations?”

“I was busy!”

“Bullshit, Mae, you were not. Yesterday was one of your night classes, and you never ditch those except when I ask you to. And yet, you ditched both. And I know you weren’t out with him, either.”

“Of course I wasn’t—wait, what? How do you know that I wasn’t with him?” Mae turned to look at her with a wary glare. “Osha.”

“Uh.”

“He came in again last night, didn’t he?”

“Who came in? I don’t know who you’re talking about. Actually, you’re right. Let’s forget I said anything at all. Great idea, Mae!”

“Osha…”

“He only comes in when I’m fixing the machine, okay? He saw me fall over yesterday when he walked by. He was worried.”

Her sister looked at her like she’d grown another head. “Worried.”

“Yes, is there an echo in here? I also told him he’s an asshole. Sorta.”

Mae blanched, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “You’re playing with fire, Osha.”

“What do you mean? Mae, who is this guy? How do you know him?”

She gestured for Osha to help with dinner prep. “Okay. You have to promise you won’t get mad, though.”

“I can’t promise you that,” Osha said, chopping a bell pepper in smooth, rhythmic movements. “I promise I will hear you out but I can’t promise I won’t be upset.”

It was enough for Mae. “Alright. So do you want the most important facts or the whole story from the beginning?”

Osha looked at the clock. Sol could be coming over at any minute. “Just tell me what you know about him. I’ll annoy you for the whole story when Sol leaves.”

“Great. So, uh, I’m not taking night classes. I haven’t for almost two years. I wasn’t dating or doing anything illegal. I was training with him.” It all came out in a rush, like a breath Mae had held for a very long time.

It took all of Osha’s willpower not to chop her hand off in surprise. She forced her voice into a calm imitation of herself, returning to dinner prep. “You’re training with him? Outside of the Temple?” Something in Osha’s mind was screaming at her to make some kind of logical connection, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.

“I was, until about two months ago. I was… The most important thing is that I’m not training with him anymore.”

“Nuh-uh, Mae. Why’d you suddenly stop? Did he hurt you?”

“No! No, it wasn’t like that. I just… I had been given more, well, more hours, kind of, at the gym, so between that and training every day of the week, I couldn’t keep it up.” Mae sounded contrite but still shifty. This wasn’t the full story. Osha circled back to another unanswered point.

“Who is he? What’s his name?”

“He used to be… oh god, this isn’t the right time for this conversation—”

Sure enough, Sol’s one-knock entrance interrupted her in the middle of her explanation. Osha wanted to push her dad back into the hall and get the rest of the story, but if what Mae said was true, getting Sol suspicious about this would be the worst idea.

Sol came in smiling, and Osha needed to hide in the fridge to school her expression a bit. “It is cold out there,” Sol said.

“Yeah, storm front’s blowing in soon; I can feel it.” Sol looked distinctly uncomfortable whenever Osha mentioned the effects of the weather on her ankle. She was 26, not 62.

Mae swept in to diffuse everything. “Well, at least it’s mulled wine season!” She pointed to the simmering pot on the stove.

The three fell into an easy routine: making dinner, talking about nothing, and weaving around one another in the kitchen. It was a dance they all knew, but it had become a nearly scripted endeavor in recent years.

“How’s Jecki doing? Is she excited to join the competition circuit this spring?” Osha asked Sol.

“She is progressing very well. And you know Jecki, she rarely shows excitement for anything. But she is ready. She has committed herself admirably to the program; I couldn’t be more proud.”

It’s not a slight on her, Osha knows. She’d been in Jecki’s position six years ago. Once upon a time, Osha wanted nothing more than to be just like her dad: a decorated competitive boxer, a trainer at the temple, and a force for good in the community. Before her injury, he’d been hinting at her shadowing him at the gym.

After Bestine, all talk of mentorship stopped.

At least the trainer job was still an option for her.

“You know, it’s okay to stop pushing yourself toward dreams of the past,” Sol said in that gratingly sweet and understanding voice that got on Osha’s nerves.

“Dad—” Mae tried to intervene.

“And it’s also okay to be a little pissed about the fact I can’t achieve them, too,” Osha took a drink of her beer. Maybe it was the burn of her calf and ankle still searing her to the bone, but she didn’t want to let this go. She was going off-script from their usual tiptoeing around reality.

“You should think about finding a different direction for yourself, Osha.”

“I like boxing. It’s the direction I have committed myself to. It’s what I’m good at. It’s probably the only thing I’m good at. Which is why I want to apply for the junior trainer job.”

A beat of silence passed. Osha didn’t miss the look Mae exchanged with Sol. A tightness in her chest began to twist, anxiety flooding her veins and leaving her lightheaded. 

“What.”

Sol rubbed his fingertips over his knuckles, a nervous tell he never bothered hiding. “The junior trainer position has already been filled.”

“Oshie, I—”

“Don’t.” Osha put her beer down and finished eating dinner with robotic focus. The inside of her skull felt like static. “Either of you.”

“It wasn’t my decision,” Sol said softly.

“I said don’t.”

Osha stood from the table then, cutlery clanking on her plate. She didn’t look at either of them as she left, going straight to her room after scooping up Pip. 

Absolutely nothing was going right today. Aside from working an entire shift at the cafe, she found out her sister had been lying to her for two years, and Vernestra thought Osha was being seen training somewhere else—now Mae had been given the position Osha had wanted and worked for since she was removed from competition pools. It wasn’t enough that nobody in the gym would spar with her for liability reasons. Now, she had to be content with being just a member: no way forward, no way up, no way out.

The only thing that had gone right today was seeing the stranger.

This brand of self-pity had Osha searching osha aniseya injury bestine open again. 

She opened the purple links in cascading tabs looming at the top of the browser window. As she read through the news reports of one of the worst days of her life, the tabs disappeared, having done their job of making her go from feeling bad to feeling worse.

Most children who train at the Temple never see their first competition until they’ve trained for two years. Verosha “Osha” Aniseya left her first tournament Saturday as the undisputed flyweight champion at just eleven years old—just a year after joining the gym after the car crash that orphaned her and her twin sister, Mae…

The video came last, like always.

“—Aniseya, the two-time junior champion, and favored winner tonight, has a huge lead over her opponent; this is her second time in the adult-ranked tournaments—” The crowd in the video gasped. “Aniseya is on the floor, it looks like she’s been injured—”

And there, in the center of the ring, was her. She looked so… small. She was only 20 but had as much muscle tone as anyone else in her weight class. But right now, right then, she looked like a little kid, scared and curled around herself on the mat. The pain had been so immense she’d blacked out, so the video was all Osha had to fill the gaps in her memory. The Sol from back then leaned over her body, trying to stabilize her knee—and there was her scream. It was so loud and sharp that the crowd went utterly silent.

The dislocation was only diagnosed when she’d gotten her X-ray results, but of course, the doctors only really cared about the ruptured tendon and the refractured bones in her ankle. The screws and other hardware she’d had in her foot since she was ten had to come out. Their replacements would account for the rest of her new injuries. The journalists only reported the ankle injury, at the very least. What a shame that the only dignity and privacy she had left from that nightmare was a left knee that ached constantly—but it was an ache that nobody knew about.

The announcers said some other things in the video, but all Osha heard was Vernestra’s disappointed voice, saying we can’t let you compete like this. Not anymore. Mae’s tearful offer to quit boxing in solidarity. Sol had held her hand while she cried and cried and cried.

She was twice a junior champion. Osha looked up at the two championship ribbons on her shelf, which were dirty from dust and neglect. She should have given them to Sol along with the trophies. He’d been more broken up about her being removed from the competition pool than she was, but Osha had become numb to everything those days—if she let herself feel one thing, she’d have to feel everything.

She looked away from the screen to look at her foot. Beneath that sock and her skin and scar tissue were six stainless steel pieces of surgical hardware and an Achilles tendon prone to inflammation at the slightest provocation. Such a small part of her body, all those delicate bones, but they’d ruined nearly every part of her life.

And now she wasn’t even being considered for the training position. It would have given her purpose and drive, something to get her up in the morning besides routine and an alarm clock.

Eventually, her aimless internet search turned to the Temple website photo gallery. Most were taken in the Temple, but many others were from competitions. When Osha hadn’t been injured, her face had been everywhere. She was the gym’s pride and joy, so she was on the front page of the website, she was on posters, she had a damn billboard. When she returned to the gym about two months after her surgery, she could only find her face in the photos on the walls, always in youth classes.

It was like she disappeared.

Her thoughts turned to the stranger’s story about seeing her and Mae in one of the children’s classes when they were very young. She went through the photo gallery online, searching for a particular shade of black hair, dark eyes, and a razor-sharp jawline. She found none.

She had one more idea to try and find the end of this rabbit hole.

The old guard around the gym didn’t gossip about other members. When a matter had passed, it had passed. If something distasteful happened among the ranks, it was handled personally and then forgotten. The fact that Vernestra put any stock in the rumor about Osha was distressing. She’d always been a woman who stood on principles like don’t talk behind other’s backs and don’t spread lies.

There was one rumor that never got squashed, however. When Osha had won her first champion title, there had been a very awkward stretch of weeks Sol had told her to ignore. She still didn’t know everyone there, and she was adjusting to a new school and the reality that her mothers would never return.

But still, the shadow of a rumor Osha never knew the shape of rippled and echoed through the gym for many years after. From Osha’s limited understanding, there was some abrupt incident that ended in Vernestra’s former protégé getting kicked out of the gym permanently, sometime shortly after Sol brought Osha and Mae to the Temple. Though the old guard liked to keep the competition pool free of drama, this story persisted.

I heard he went on some kind of smear campaign. Tried dragging Vernie’s name through the mud.

Wouldn’t you, if you had your back broken in four places?

I mean, I heard there were other circumstances…

Maybe she’s learned better. Kids these days could ruin us all.

It may have been enough to find any news reports. She searched Temple Gym back injury but only found posts from the gym’s blog going back ten years and more results about her own disaster. Broadening the search yielded more outside reporting, but all the pieces were fluff: charity outreach, competition results, and expansion efforts—but nothing about a former student with a back injury.

Weirdly, searching vernestra rwoh student, zero search results populated.

Osha didn’t know the shape of what she was looking at, but she knew she had a bad feeling about this.

“I’m taking my fifteen,” Osha said, casually folding her apron and noting the time. Jecki waved her off, still training Tasi at the register during a lull in service.

Osha wandered the gym. It seemed darker today, more menacing and bleak. Everyone here hid in the shadows. Maybe it was just how she felt about the news last night. None of this felt fair. Mae had admitted to training with some stranger, and Osha would bet anything that the rumors and reports Vernestra was so concerned with were actually about Mae. And they probably know it, too. They just wanted me to take the fall so they wouldn’t have the unbroken Aniseya embarrassing them.

Something had her feet stopping in front of one of the pictures beneath the stairs leading up to Vernestra’s office. It was dusty; she had most likely forgotten it was even down here. Osha took it off the nail and blew gently on the glass and frame before rubbing the dust away on her pants.

No way.

There he was. Like most other frames around the gym, it was a newspaper clipping. Even with the aged ink and black-and-white photo, Osha knew who it was. Black gloves concealed most of his face, but she knew those eyes, burning and focused even from—she checked the date—fifteen years ago. The heading said, TEMPLE GYM HOPEFUL SETS EYES ON JR. NATIONAL TITLE.

How had this photo survived?

“Osha?”

Her hands moved quickly, popping open the back of the frame to snatch the thin newspaper from behind the glass. She folded it, stuffed it in her pocket, and turned. “Mae.” Even though her expression was calm, her heart pounded. 

Her sister wrung her hands, unperturbed by finding Osha here. Maybe she didn’t know about the photo. Then again, Osha didn’t even know there was a photo here until today.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. You were gone too early for me to talk to you, and…” She trailed off, expecting Osha to finish the sentence. Usually, they could do that with uncanny accuracy. But now, maybe Osha needed to hear her say it all herself. Mae shifted her weight from foot to foot before finding her courage. “I should have told you about the job.”

“You should have told me many things, I think.”

Mae winced, crossing her arms. “I can’t talk about that here.”

“Why not? They already think—” Osha lowered her voice. “They already think I’m the one going outside the gym for training.”

“They what? Who said that?”

Osha nodded her head up at Vernestra’s office. “She told me that if I was going to go training outside the gym, to at least be discreet about it.” Something occurred to her. “Mae, when did they give you the training position?”

“Yesterday, wh—”

“Oh, this is unbelievable. At first, I thought it was because I was just a broken boxer who didn’t fight anymore, but it was really because they thought I had gone against the gym! Then I find out it’s my own sister not only compromising my place here but also taking the one job I ever wanted, and she’s been lying to me for two years. Thanks a lot, Mae. Yeah, you should have told me a lot of things.”

Osha brushed past her as she stomped back to the cafe. “Osha, please—”

“I have to get back to work. And I don’t want to hear it.”

With the counter between her and her sister, this was not the place to be having this—or any—conversation. “Can I get you something?” Osha asked when Mae hadn’t walked off.

The look on her face matched the way her heart felt: despairing. “I’ll talk to you when you get home,” she said.

Osha didn’t give her an answer, and eventually, Mae got the hint, leaving.

The rest of her shift passed in a fugue, her mind idly warring between keeping her sister’s secret and clearing her name. Objectively, a boxer with a bunch of orthopedic hardware in her ankle wasn’t the best candidate for longevity. Still, two of the trophies in the massive case at the front of the gym were only there because of her. She’d done her time and put in the work. She fought through her pain and dealt with it quietly, lest she complain too much and be seen as ungrateful. Perception was everything in the Temple. 

Didn’t she deserve better?

“Hey, Yord, can you make me three-shot red eye?” Osha asked.

“Absol—oops, I didn’t mean for—”

She smiled. “Thanks, Yord.”

CHAPTER FIVE

[oncominggstorm]

1, 2, 6, 27, 31 & 42 for the 50 questions ask game!

1.) What are three shows in your watchlist that you’ve been meaning to get to?

I answered this one already with more detail, but I'll summarize it again here: My list is pretty short right now, all I've got is Agatha All Along (even though I'm kinda sick of marvel rn, it DOES sound interesting), Pokemon XY (for some reason 👀🤔), and Rivals (SOLEY because David Tennant is in it, I'm not excited to watch it at all, it seems boring tbh. Maybe I'll be wrong and I'll love it, who knows 🤷‍♀️)

2.) Describe your favorite pair of socks

I don't have a favorite pair of socks, I HATEEEE socks. They are a sensory nightmare for me. Not a big fan of shoes either tbh. Especially close toed shoes. I am barefoot as often as I can be lol.

6.) What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?

Whatever random scrap of paper I can find closest to me lol. Envelopes and receipts are common. Tbh though I mostly read on my kindle or phone nowadays. Lighter, easier to hold, lots of books at once, and I like that I can increase the font size (......maybe I need a new glasses prescription tbh 😂)

27.) Do you have any keychains on your home or car keys? Describe them!

Yeah I've got several keychains on my keys actually! The main/biggest one is a mini squishmallow keychain. Its light purple, and I think it's supposed to be a squirrel maybe? It's wearing a flower crown. Then attached to that I also have a coin purse keychain that I use as a wallet, it's got colorful stripes. Then I also have a little piece of black tourmaline crystal on a keychain. And I have a little tiny mini urn keychain with some of my dad's ashes. And all of those are all connected together along with my house & car keys 👍

31. ) What’s the last music video you watched?

I think it was Feather by Sabrina Carpenter, cuz I saw something online saying people were mad about it being filmed in a church, and I wanted to know why. (After watching it I still don't really get why tho 🤷‍♀️ ). I honestly don't watch music videos very much, I just listen to music on spotify instead.

42.) Do you have any games on your phone? If so, which one(s) is/are your favorite?

I don't right now! I tend to go through phases where I'll play them a bunch, then get bored and delete them. Then rinse and repeat. I do play a lot of the more mindless games sometimes when I just wanna relax and zone out, like match 3 games or merge games. But those are all basically the same game over and over so I wouldn't consider them my favorites. A few that come to mind that I remember really liking are Sneaky Sasquatch (which I think is apple arcade only), Wylde Flowers, and Cozy Grove (I think that was also apple arcade?).

50.) Describe your perfect sleeping conditions

Really cold (like...however cold you're thinking, it's probably colder than that). A little bit of light (I have a lava lamp I usually leave on). A fan going for air circulation. A super soft comfy blanket. And earplugs in so it's more quiet 👍

Thanks :)

Send me a number!

[gubsgames]

Tavuary Day 5: Snuggle!

It's the fifth day of #Tavuary! There are two ways to participate by either following the Week-by-Week Prompts (Week One is "Fluff") or by using the Day-by-Day prompts found in this post! Fic Title: The Littlest Big Spoon Pairing: Astarion x Dandy (my Halfling Bard Tav) Warnings: None, just cute and fluffy. Summary: Somewhere in early Act III, Astarion and Dandy have a conversation about sleeping arrangements.

It is a curious feeling to know one is being watched. Dandy knew all-too-well that sensation of eyes crawling over your skin. In any given crowd, there were always those who were not afraid to look, who openly enjoyed the performance, but there were inevitably others who stuck to the furtherest corners of her periphery, those who watched from the shadows in hopes of not being observed themselves.  Astarion was one of the latter though he took little care to hide his gaze. He paced around his tent, fussing with his fingertips as he so often did when he was either nervous or pretending to be coy.  Dandy smiled to herself as she continued unloading her pack — the ever-growing pile of books, gems, and random cutlery spilling out across her bedroll like a chaotic rummage sale. She listened as Astarion’s shoes crunched against the rattan rug as he turned this way and that in his fretfulness. His movements were less intimidating panther than they were temperamental rabbit. “Gods, how many books did you pick up this time?” Astarion’s patience broke long before Dandy’s, and he stood, hands on his hips, with the most exacerbated expression. “All of them” came the response without a hint of sarcasm. “Did you need something?” Astarion opened his mouth, only to stand there, uncharacteristically lost for words. The silence, however, only lasted for a moment. “Damn it, you always do that. I had a thing prepared to say, and now I can’t say it the way I wanted to.” “Apologies.” Dandy continued to sort through her treasures without meeting Astarion’s eyes, and she knew it was driving him mad. “Well, I….” With a huff, Astarion swallowed some of his pride to speak plainly, “Please look at me.” Dandy glanced up, the moonlight catching her violet eyes and making them look all the more innocent. “Come to bed.” It was a plea not an order as Astarion motioned to his tent. “Your bed?" Dandy was not naive, but she also knew that Astarion was still growing accustomed to expressing what he actually needed from her. “No, I thought we could commandeer Gale’s bedroll. Of course, my bed.” Astarion’s expression softened as quickly as it bristled. “Not for sex. I just would like to share my bed with you tonight.” 

This was new, unexpected, and it only took a moment of inaction for Astarion to flurry himself into apprehension. Hips, hair, anywhere, his hands struggled to find comfortable purchase. 

“Dear-heart,” Dandy’s voice sought to calm whatever storm was brewing in Astarion’s cloudy head, “there is nothing I’d like more.” The briefest flash of a smile crossed Astarion’s features as his confidence returned as if it had never been shaken. He took both of Dandy’s hands, pulled her to her feet, and beckoned her to the tent as though it was a palace and not a narrow pocket barely big enough for one Astarion-sized person. 

After removing her slippers, Dandy sat on his bedroll. She had never been inside Astarion’s tent before. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air from the various sanguine jars and bottles Astarion stockpiled, the contents taken from the local wildlife. There was also another scent — minty and light — that seemed to emanate from the fabric beneath her. A strange mixture the two scents were, neither one overpowering the other, just mingling in the small space like old friends. Astarion drew the fabric closed over the tent’s opening and manoeuvred himself beside Dandy. He laid backwards, one arm beneath his head, as he toed off his shoes, kicking them to one corner. Dandy waited expectantly, keeping good humour, but she finally had to ask, “So, is this a spooning situation? Snuggling? Cuddling? Side-to-side? Back-to-back? I’m okay as long as we aren’t sleeping head-to-foot.” For a moment, Astarion got the look that Dandy had learned meant “I have not planned that far ahead. I thought you had the plan.” It was a cute, confused expression that made it all too easy to forget that he was a few centuries old. “How about this?” Dandy offered as she eased herself onto her side. She curled her arms to herself and closed her eyes, feigning sleep to allow Astarion to figure out what he wanted. Dandy felt Astarion’s body shift, and she kept still as he rolled onto his side to face away from her. After a brief pause, Astarion reached back, searching for her hand. When he found it, he held tight and gently pulled her closer. He drew her arm around his middle, holding her hand to his chest, as his body began to relax. Because her arm was not quite long enough, Dandy’s face was somewhat smooshed against Astarion's back as he settled down, but it was a nice feeling nonetheless, the coolness of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Good night, my dear,” he whispered, voice nearly lost in the crackling of the campfire outside. 

[supernovafics]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k words

summary: in which the vecna events hurt you a lot more than you would allow yourself to admit to anyone. you lost your best friend, someone who was quite possibly your only true friend, and you just felt empty inside because of it. you somehow find solace in steve harrington and an unspoken bond forms between you two. you and him barely talk, though; talking is probably the last thing you do with one another. but, maybe, you should.

warnings: post season four, mentions of eddie, mentions of stancy, reader grieving eddie’s death, soft!steve, some fluff, SO MUCH angst, explicit language, smut (minors dni!), overall a lot of sadness but with a happy/hopeful ending

author’s note: this idea randomly came to me and i immediately stopped everything else i was working on to run with this lmao hope y’all enjoy!<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was because you almost died. 

That was what you kept telling yourself.

It was the life-and-death situations that you had found yourself in that past month that led you into Steve’s bed almost every night. And it was also the fact that he’d experienced those fucked up moments with you.

You and Steve weren’t friends. Even after what happened a little over a month ago, you rarely ever talked to each other during the normal hours that most people talked to one another. In fact, you found yourself actively avoiding him during the day. 

But, when night rolled around and you were feeling way too restless and insanely sad, you would call him and he would always answer because somehow he was always awake too. 

When you pulled into his driveway on this specific night, you didn’t hesitate to head to his front door and give it three quick knocks. He usually would leave the door unlocked for you after you told him you were on your way, but you still liked to knock. 

For some reason, the thought of letting yourself into his house made things feel a little too personal and intimate; even though you and him were doing perhaps the most intimate thing two people could do with one another. 

When Steve opened the door, he gave you a small smile. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” You responded softly before walking inside. 

You took notice of his attire which was typical, basketball shorts and a simple t-shirt, but his hair was much more disheveled than usual. It made you silently wonder if this time you actually had woken him up when you called. 

You peeled off your jacket and toed off your shoes, leaving them both by the front door. 

You followed him up to his room and quickly found comfort atop his bed as he closed and locked the door behind you both. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed and you looked up at the ceiling. 

“Were you actually asleep when I called this time?”

“Maybe a little bit.” 

You propped yourself up by your elbows and looked at him. “You can tell me to fuck off sometimes, you know that right?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, which let you know that he was at least a little bit nervous and there was also a lot going through his head right then. You wish you didn’t know that about him, but it was hard not to notice little things like that with all of the nights you’d been spending together. 

“I could never tell you to fuck off,” He ultimately responded. 

Why? 

That was what you wanted to ask him, but you couldn’t let the word fall from your lips. Because you were scared about what emotional shit would be attached to his answer. You were scared that it just might finally break you open. 

Ever since everything went down you felt numb from it all and, for the most part, you were okay with that. You liked not feeling anything because it meant that you couldn’t truly grasp the pain and grief you were experiencing. 

By no means was it healthy, you knew that, but it still somehow made things a little better. 

However, there was still a part of you that longed for something, anything, that resembled the opposite of the emptiness you were feeling. 

And that was where Steve would come in. 

He’d give you something that would momentarily fill that void while simultaneously making you forget all of the shit going through your head. 

And you’d give him the same thing. Make him forget about the girl he was in love with who was perfectly happy with someone else. 

The two of you needed each other. You would never say it aloud, but it was the truth, and you couldn’t let a question of “why?” potentially ruin that right then. 

So, instead, you stood up and slipped off the sweatpants you were wearing and then pulled off the ratty old band t-shirt that had been Eddie’s. You hadn’t been wearing a bra under the shirt so you were standing in front of Steve in only your black underwear. His eyes slowly traveled up your body as he walked closer to you and a hand found your bare waist. 

When this all started weeks ago, it slightly surprised you how you never felt nervous or awkward under Steve’s gaze. Somehow you always felt comfortable, maybe even a little safe. 

You leaned into his soft touch and tilted your head up so that you could meet his lips. When your mouth met his, your mind effectively turned off and the next few moments felt like they were being lived by a different version of you. The version that was normal and not so painstakingly affected by grief and sadness. 

Steve guided you back onto the bed, his lips not detaching from yours once, so that your back was flush against the comforter. 

Soft words fell from his lips that you couldn’t decipher because you were so lost in your own pleasure. 

You felt him almost everywhere. Lips against your neck and trailing down your body, hands squeezing your breast and teasing you through your soaking underwear. 

“Please,” You found yourself muttering desperately as you bucked your hips upward a bit because you needed him so badly. 

Steve knew what you were essentially asking for and he wanted the same exact thing. So when he pulled away for a second to remove his t-shirt and basketball shorts and boxers, you slipped off your own underwear and let him make you simultaneously feel and forget everything. 

-

Three Weeks Earlier

“Hey.”

His presence startled you. So much so that you lost your balance a bit and almost fell into the lake. 

“Jesus Christ, Harrington, you can’t sneak up on a girl like that.”

“Sorry about that,” He said and pushed a quick hand through his hair. “I don’t think there was any right way to get your attention.”

You tilted your head at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Also, how did you get here? I didn’t see your car parked.” 

You turned away from him. “I walked.” 

“That doesn’t sound like the best idea.”

A small shrug was all you gave him in response as you kicked a small rock into the lake. 

You didn’t tell him that all of the walking you did made you so exhausted that the only thing you could think of when you finally stepped foot in your home was sleep and absolutely nothing else. 

You’d come to learn over the past few weeks that it was way too easy for your mind to spiral when you were alone in your bed if you didn’t force yourself to stay awake and do things until you were completely sleep deprived. 

“How’ve you been?” He asked as he walked over to stand next to you. 

You almost laughed at how ridiculous the question was because, in your mind, the answer seemed obvious. You’d been sad, angry, upset at the world, sometimes even upset at Eddie— and you’d always end up feeling like a horrible person when you did become upset at him.  

But you hadn’t seen Steve or anybody else involved since everything happened, so as ridiculous as the question was, it did make sense that he was asking it. 

“Not the best,” You ultimately answered. 

He waited a few moments to see if you would elaborate on what you meant, but you didn’t. 

“You’re kinda one of us now, so you can talk to us whenever. You can talk to me.”

You took a quick glance over at him and saw from the look on his face how much he meant his words. “That’s the thing though, I don’t wanna talk.”

“So, you just wanna wallow forever?” His tone wasn’t accusatory like you expected it to be. Instead, he was genuinely curious. 

“I just want to…” You let out a long sigh.  “Forget. Forget what happened, forget what we went through, forget that he’s gone. Everything.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to that for a few moments, and you fought the urge to look at him because you knew that he was either staring at you like you were crazy or pitying you. You couldn’t decide which look would be worse.  

“Let me drive you home,” He said softly. You realized then that he probably felt sorry for you and his eyes were more than likely saying the same.  

You kept your gaze trained on the lake in front of you. “I’m okay.”

“Please?”

You only nodded because you knew you couldn’t say no. He’d probably ask a bunch of questions about what was going on with you, and you were a terrible liar so you knew you’d actually have to be honest with him. And how were you going to be honest with him, if you couldn’t be honest with yourself just yet? 

You allowed yourself to get comfortable in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW, leaning back into the seat and staring out at the dark road ahead of you both. If the circumstances had been different you could’ve maybe found yourself falling asleep in his car. But, it was too quiet and things felt awkward, so you couldn’t help but say the first thing that crossed your mind. 

“How are you and Nancy?”

Steve didn’t say anything for a few long moments, but then he cleared his throat. “She’s, uh, she’s still with Jonathan.”

“Oh,” You said, and couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice. During everything, it seemed like the two of them were on some sort of course toward getting back together. “Sorry.” 

He shrugged halfheartedly. “It’s fine.”

Something about his demeanor told you that it actually wasn’t fine.  

Your eyes glanced at the time displayed on the dashboard. It was two in the morning but you weren’t tired enough. And you really didn’t wanna go back home just yet. 

“Um, can we go to yours actually?”

You fully expected him to question you and ask why you wanted to go to his place and not your own. But, he didn’t ask anything and instead gave you a small nod. “Okay.” 

His house was quiet and although you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d be staying, you slipped off the sneakers you were wearing and left them by the front door. 

“You want something to drink?” Steve asked. “I would also offer something to eat, but there’s nothing really here.” 

You shook your head. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“This way,” He said and then led you upstairs to the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. 

When you flicked on the light and looked in the mirror, it was then that you noticed how bad you looked, and it actually made sense to you that Steve had wanted to take you home. Your face looked exhausted, but you didn’t feel tired at all.

The t-shirt you were wearing, which had been Eddie’s, was insanely wrinkled and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d taken it off, and the old dark sweatpants you were wearing had some random bleach spots on them. 

When you exited the bathroom, after splashing some water on your face to hopefully bring some life back to it, you noticed Steve lingering by his bedroom door. 

“You could’ve told me how insane I look right now,” You told him. 

“You look… fine,” He said hesitantly and you rolled your eyes as you sat on his bed. “I think you just look tired?”

You let out a small sigh and crossed your legs underneath you. “I’m quite literally the opposite.” 

He sat down next to you and things became quiet. 

“Why were you at the lake?” You decided to ask as you turned to look at him. 

“Couldn’t sleep, so I was just driving around,” He responded and you nodded at that as you looked down at your lap. 

You silently wondered if the aftermath of everything was hitting him as hard as it was hitting you. You almost asked him how he had been doing since it all happened, but the question couldn’t form on your lips. 

“I did mean what I said back there,” He abruptly said as he turned to you. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you met his gaze. “You can talk to me. I know we didn’t know each other before everything happened, and we still don’t know each other that well. But, still… I’m here. If you ever wanna not forget about everything, we can talk about it.”

You appreciated his words, you truly did. But, the thought of actually talking about everything made you feel physically ill.

Steve placed his hand atop yours and gave it a light reassuring squeeze. The action was so minor and could’ve easily been deemed as meaningless, but it did mean so much to you. For some reason that you couldn’t decipher or understand, he really did care about you. 

You shifted a bit closer to him and allowed your body to move faster than your thoughts could tell you that what you were doing was a bad idea. You moved into his lap, knees straddling either side of his waist. 

“Is this okay?” You asked, eyes meeting his.

He nodded slowly and you could see the minor confusion on his face but you chose to ignore it because if you didn’t you knew that you would start thinking too hard about what you were doing. 

So, instead, you kept your mind off and let your body run on autopilot. Your hands settled at the nape of his neck and you leaned down to kiss him. His hands were firmly planted at his sides, too scared that all of this somehow wasn’t real to touch you back, but he did kiss you with just as much passion as you were giving him. 

It finally felt good to actually feel something; something that didn’t cause you sadness. 

“Touch me, Steve. Please,” You said in-between heated kisses. 

He didn’t have to be told twice and his hands were on you in an instant, sneaking under your t-shirt and rubbing the soft skin of your hip, then waist, then back, then all the way up to your bra-covered breast. You moaned at the feeling of him squeezing you through the thin fabric. 

You pulled back for a second to pull off your shirt and toss it somewhere in the room, and Steve took the opportunity to flip the two of you so you were pressed against the bed and he was on top of you. Your hands found a home in his hair as the two of you resumed kissing with even more intensity that time around. When Steve’s lips found your neck, you involuntarily bucked your hips upward and rubbed yourself against his hardness, which elicited a soft groan from him. 

Abruptly, he pulled away. “Wait– Shit– Sorry.”

He rolled off of you and you turned on your side to look at him with confused eyes; he was staring up at the ceiling. “Why are you sorry?”

“You’re sad right now,” Steve said, still avoiding your eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

He was right about the first part, but that didn’t mean that what the two of you were doing was a bad idea. In fact, you thought it was the opposite. 

You were lonely, and you were pretty sure he was too. Why couldn’t the two of you help each other feel not alone? 

“It’s okay. Seriously. I want this,” You told him as you shifted closer toward him and ran a hand through his hair. 

He was looking at you now, searching your eyes for full confirmation that this really was okay. And he didn’t see any uncertainty in your gaze, but he still was hesitant. 

“Please,” The word was soft and quiet, but Steve heard you loud and clear, and something inside of him shifted. 

Finally, he was kissing you again and not wasting a second to move you back on your back so that he was on top of you as he peppered kisses down your body. 

And finally, he was pulling off his shirt and pants and boxers and grabbing a condom, and you were taking off the remainder of your clothes as well. 

And finally, he was slowly pushing himself inside of you and groaning at the feeling of you around him, your wet walls taking him in so well and squeezing around his cock so tightly. 

You moaned and winced at the feeling as you adjusted to having him inside of you. You had had sex before but Steve was huge, and it felt like it was your first time all over again. 

“You okay?” He asked, hand finding your cheek to softly stroke it. 

You gave him a small nod and let your eyes slip shut as you shifted your hips a little. “Mhm. You can move now.”

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as a way to say “okay” and then slowly began moving, pulling out just a little bit and then pushing right back into you. 

You moaned uncontrollably as your chest swelled and your body was overcome with an insane amount of emotions; and all of them were surprisingly good emotions, which you hadn’t been used to anymore. You had felt so empty for so long that you didn’t expect to ever feel anything again. 

But, now here you were with Steve. 

You opened your eyes and immediately met his dark gaze. You didn’t shy away from his stare. Instead, you liked looking at him and seeing how equally enamored he was with you in that moment because of what the two of you were doing. 

His hair was falling into his eyes with every thrust, so you reached up to run your hands through it, and you loved the loud groan he elicited when you gave his dark locks a soft pull. He began pounding into you with much more vigor. 

“Fuck, Steve. Yes.”

“You’re so good, doing so well for me,” He said as his hand snaked down between your bodies to begin rubbing tight circles against your clit. 

You cried out his name loudly and arched your back at the feeling of his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing around me so tight, fuck,” Steve groaned, movements getting harsher and sloppier with each thrust. “You wanna come?”

You nodded immediately and frantically. “M’so close, yes. Please, please make me come.”

His fingers rubbed your clit harder and faster, which was enough to make you see stars and send you over the edge. His lips messily found yours, swallowing your moans as he continued fucking you through your orgasm and found his own release only moments later. 

Your breaths were still coming out in soft pants and you could feel Steve softening inside of you. “Fuck, that was really great.”

“Yeah,” He agreed with a nod and smile as he slipped out of you and moved to his side, still looking at you. You turned your head to meet his eyes. 

Things became comfortably quiet as the two of you simply stared at each other and you could finally feel your eyelids actually getting heavy. But, you didn’t want to fall asleep there. 

“Can you take me home?” You asked, breaking eye contact and sitting up in the bed. 

“Yeah, no problem.”

Minutes later, you were back in the clothes you’d shown up in and then you were back in Steve’s passenger seat. 

And right when your head hit your own pillow, you were asleep and didn’t wake up for a solid eight hours. Which was much different from the usual six, sometimes even five, hours you had become used to getting.

You didn’t think that you’d have sex with Steve again. 

Yes, it was absolutely mind-blowing and you’d love for it to happen again because of how good it made you feel; probably the most “good” you’d felt in a while. But, in your head, it was a fluke. You didn’t regret it, but you just didn’t think the circumstances would align for it to happen again. 

However, when the next night rolled around, you found yourself creating your own circumstances and calling him, and he didn’t hesitate to tell you to come over. 

-

Now 

“You miss him?”

You almost made some joking comment about how Steve was still inside of you and he somehow decided that right then was the time to shift the conversation to your best friend, but you refrained from doing so.

Steve was always so much softer than you were after sex, and he had always wanted to make sure you knew that he was there for you if you wanted more than just sex.

You had wanted to show him that you would do the same for him too; let him talk about Nancy and everything he was feeling from that situation. But, it was too hard.

Because more than anything, you wanted this to be as mindless as possible.

After a few weeks, he decided to stop trying to start a conversation with you after because of how little you reciprocated. However, apparently, this time was different though.

And it was also different for you too because you actually found yourself wanting to talk back.

“All the time,” You finally answered as you shifted off of him and let your head find his pillow as you grabbed the thin sheet to pull it over you a bit. “Pretty much all hours of the day.”

You didn’t say that the only time you didn’t miss Eddie, that the only time things actually felt the tiniest bit bearable, was when you were here with Steve. Because you hadn’t realized that until right then, and the thought slightly startled you.

You turned on your side and faced him. “You miss her?”

He turned too and his hand found your hip underneath the sheet and mindlessly started tracing small circles on the bare skin. “Who?”

You gave him a look because you knew that he knew exactly who you were referring to.

His eyes shut for a second and you could tell that he was thinking about what to say. “Sometimes, I guess.”

You glanced down at the scar he had on his abdomen from where he was attacked by the demo-bats and slowly let your fingers trace against it. “You could always just tell her, y’know? Tell her that you love her.”

“Did you ever tell him?” His voice was quiet.

Your eyes flickered back up to his. “Tell him what?”

“That you love him.”

His words slightly confused you but you nodded your head. “Of course, probably every day. But, that’s different.”

“How?” Steve asked, genuinely curious, and you thought it was slightly funny because in your head the answer to his one-worded question was obvious.

“I didn’t love him how you love her.”

“What?” The confusion was evident in his tone.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

He shifted and sat up in the bed, the sheet sinking down and barely covering his hips. You almost followed suit and sat up too, but you were too tired to do so, so you just looked up at him and started becoming confused because of how confused he seemed.

“You and Eddie… You two– You guys were together, right?” He asked, eyes finding yours.

“Ew, no,” You said and laughed a bit. “Eddie is like–” You sighed at your mistake. “Was like… a brother to me.”

“But…” Steve trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say because there was a lot circling his mind right then.

“What made you think that we were dating?”

“You guys were so close. It just– It made a lot of sense,” He answered, and you understood what he meant. You and Eddie were insanely close, but not in that way. Never in that way. Simply the thought of him being anything more than your closest friend felt slightly incestual to you. “And when I saw you that night, after everything, you were crying at lover’s lake.”

“I was not crying,” You said with a small scoff. Although you did remember that you had been close to it that night. “And I hadn’t necessarily gone there on purpose, I was just walking around to make myself tired so that I could sleep, and I ended up there.”

“Wow,” He said, letting out a small breath as he leaned back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

You almost laughed at how surprised he was at your words. “I can’t believe how big of a revelation this is for you.”

He turned toward you again. “It’s just– Wow.”

“Okay, now that that is cleared up, I guess, back to you and your situation. You should just tell–”

Before you could finish your statement, Steve abruptly pressed his lips against yours.

The two of you never kissed outside of sex, only during it and as a prelude to it. Never after, though.

So, that surprised you. Even though you kissed him back almost immediately because of how many times you’d kissed him before, you were still in shock because this was probably the most chaste and sweetest kiss he had ever given you. But, it still felt so familiar.

When he pulled away, you should’ve asked something along the lines of “what was that for?” or “why did you do that?”. But, instead, your mind trailed back to something Steve had said earlier.

“I could never tell you to fuck off.”

And that statement made you ask a question that might have sounded so random, but it felt like it was connected to what he had just done.

“Earlier, why did you say that you could never tell me to fuck off?”

Steve’s hand softly stroked your cheek and he was completely unfazed by your question. “Because I like you too much.”

“But, Nancy–”

He shook his head before you could finish. “She’s with Jonathan and she’s happy. They’re meant to be. I’ve accepted that.”

“But…” It was your turn to trail off because you didn’t know what to say. All you could do was simply stare at him and take notice of how tenderly he was looking at you in that moment.

“This whole time I felt like a horrible person because I was falling for you while I thought you were grieving your boyfriend. I can’t believe how wrong I was,” He said with a small sigh.

Your mind was effectively blank and there was nothing you could even think of saying to Steve right then. There was way too much to process in such a short amount of time.

You felt like you were in the same “misunderstanding boat” as him. Because in your mind he had still been in love with Nancy. Therefore, why would you allow yourself to like him? You would’ve just ended up getting hurt and losing him, and he was the only thing in your life that made you feel somewhat better about Eddie.

You were then reminded of your earlier realization, and how good it felt being with Steve on sleepless nights like these.

“I thought you loved Nancy,” You finally said.

“And I thought you and Eddie had been together.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “We should talk more. Our communication is pretty shitty.”

His arm circled your waist as he laughed too and pulled you close to him. You let your head settle on his chest and your eyes slip shut.

It was quiet for a few moments before you decided to finally let yourself be completely honest with him. “I think I like you too much too. Like, too much. It’s so much harder to go to sleep when I’m not here with you. And you make things feel a lot better. Everything that happened… It doesn’t hurt as much when I’m with you. Somehow it all actually feels okay.”

Your voice was soft and it could’ve been easy for Steve not to hear you, but he did. Instead of immediately responding, he simply held you tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You could’ve sworn if your eyes weren’t closed you’d be crying from the action.

“Don’t leave tonight, okay?”

His request didn’t fully surprise you, but at the same time, it did. Mainly because it was something that neither of you ever really talked about or acknowledged.

Sometimes, actually a lot of the times, you would end up falling asleep in Steve’s bed with his arms around you, but you’d always be gone before the morning came because you knew that everything would feel too “real” if your moments with Steve lived beyond the nighttime. And he never called you out on abruptly leaving or ever tried to convince you to stay.  

Of course, now, you didn’t care about what it would mean if you stayed with him as the night slowly faded away. And in fact, you found yourself aching for mornings with him and days spent together doing nothing or driving aimlessly around town in addition to the amazing nights you’d have together.

You smiled softly into the darkness as you nuzzled yourself impossibly closer to him and finally responded. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[the-queen-of-the-light]

A college au where Lena does the unthinkable: she forgets about her chemistry lab. Now Lena never misses a lab. She’s never even late to class. So when her lab partner calls her, asking where she is, her heart drops. She’d forgotten it’s Wednesday. How could she forget it’s Wednesday?

A glance at her watch tells her that she has approximately 10 minutes before she’s actually late, which is plenty of time to get two buildings over to the lab space.

The only minor snag is, well… lab dress code. Normally, that would never be an issue. She always keeps a spare pair of safety goggles in her bag, and she’d never deign to wear something like shorts or sandals to attend classes, like some of her peers.

But… some days, she’s just stayed up far too late studying. Some days, she’s barely staying upright by coffee and willpower alone, and she’s so tired that she couldn’t even be bothered to put her contacts in before classes. On those days, she’s willing to make a minor exception to her usually immaculate state of dress.

With her biomedical engineering midterm fast approaching, today happens to be one of those days. The skin tight leggings that she threw on before sleepily rushing out the door that morning mock her with the way that they cling. Honestly it’s not as if she planned to spill corrosives on herself, but she knows for a fact Dr. Kord wouldn’t allow her to walk through the door in such “lab inappropriate apparel.”

Ugh. At least, the tennis shoes she threw on are close-toed. She’ll figure something out.

And as she scurries through the chemistry halls towards the lab, that something presents itself.

She catches site of a blond girl in comfy looking NCU sweat pants heading into the restroom just around the corner from her destination. And really, she can’t believe she’s doing this, but her options are limited. So she looks the girl dead in the eye through the mirror and steels herself, as she firmly states, “I need your pants.”

“You… what?” her bewilderment is evident in her reflection.

“Your pants. I need them,” Lena repeats to the stranger, raising her chin, as if this isn’t the strangest request (read: demand) she’s ever made.

The blond turns around to face her, spluttering as she pulls at the straps of her backpack. She eyes the door behind Lena momentarily, before asking, “Why?”

Lena sighs, “Chemistry lab,” and glances down at her watch, a frown growing. “In two and a half minutes. And I… well…” She gestures down at her legs, sheepishly. “I forgot.”

Her eyes lock again with the blond’s and she momentarily forgets her fluster in realization that, behind dark-framed glasses, they’re a vibrant shade of blue. And determined, too.

Determined enough to usher Lena into a stall, and without a word, she heads into the adjacent one. A pair of sweats are flopped over the dividing wall for Lena to grab, and as she strips off her leggings to pull on the sweat pants, she notices the name ‘Danvers’ running down the thigh. It seems oddly familiar, but—

“So how long is this lab?” the girl in the next stall asks.

“Four hours.” The splutter from next door tells Lena that maybe this ‘Danvers’ didn’t necessarily think this through.

“Four hours?! Am I supposed to just… hang out here, pants-less, that whole time?”

And, oh, that finally breaks through Lena’s stress and embarrassment. “Of course not.” Laughing, she tosses her leggings over the wall, and exits her stall to the sound of shuffling.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” Lena says as she digs for her goggles in her bag. “I really owe you.”

“It’s no problem,” the voice behind her says as the stall door swings open. “It may be one of the weirder things to happen to me, but definitely not the weirdest.”

Lena goes to laugh at that, but the sound dies in her throat and her mouth goes dry as she takes in the reflection of incredibly fit and well-muscled legs shifting under the tight material of her leggings. She has to swallow a deep breath and blink hard to recalibrate her mind.

But the girl immediately decimates the progress by twisting to get a view of her ass in the tight spandex, giving Lena a rather favorable view in the process.

“Don’t look too terrible, do they?” she asks with a grin.

“No.” Lena’s voice comes out strangled, and she looks away, clearing her throat before trying again. “No, definitely not.”

Looking for anywhere to place her eyes that isn’t on her savior’s well-defined (and now prominently-displayed) ass, Lena glances at her watch again.

Fuck.

“I should—“ Lena starts, gesturing to the door.

“Yeah,” the girl agrees, shuffling her feet and scratching at the back of her neck. And was that a faint blush Lena spied on her cheeks?

“I’ll, uh, get these back to—“

“No worries. Go, we’ll figure something—“

“—Yeah.”

They both pause, just gazing at each other for a moment, when Lena’s phone rings.

“Lena, where are you?!” a voice calls from the phone speaker.

Lena flashes the blond a last smile and a little wave, as she says, “I’m just around the corner, Jack. I’ll be right—“

She runs straight into her lab partner, who steadies her as she stumbles. “—there.”

“Thank god. You made it. I was worried I’d have to pair up with that moronic—“ Jack’s voice trailed off as he stared at her, mouth agape. “Are you… Why are you wearing Kara’s sweats?”

“Who?” Lena’s brows furrow.

“Kara. Kara Danvers. NCU’s star soccer player? She was in that game Sam dragged us to.” A smug grin spreads across Jack’s face. “I knew it! I knew you were lusting over her! You spent the whole time staring.”

Danvers. That’s why the name sounded familiar. And, now that she thought about it, the face too, though she hadn’t worn those glasses that hid half her face during the game.

“God, I can’t believe you’re sleeping with Kara Danvers. I can’t wait to tell Sam.” Jack sounded far too gleeful about the whole situation.

“We’re— I’m… I’m not— We’re not—“ Lena struggles to get any words out to explain the situation. But images of the blond… Kara… in her leggings spring to life in her mind, and Lena quickly realizes she wouldn’t be opposed to it being true.

“Lena. Darling. You got in her pants. Literally.” Jack smirks, and a blushing Lena just shoves him towards the door.

“Just get in the fucking lab.”

[whisper-and-tangle]

Whisper n Tangle Roommate AU!

*Relatively new to fanfic and sth in general, so be wary of that! WIP btw. really like new to fanfic, seriously. dont expect much lol

Tangle sat on her messy, half-made bed which was missing a bedsheet and only had one pillow, the entire thing barely held up by its metal frame. She collapsed onto it, launching herself back as she took her phone from her pocket and stared at her empty inbox.

"Ohhhhhh man. This is so boring." She said to herself, having done nothing exciting for the last week. Week. She was really getting tired of this town.

She'd seen all the sights, tried all the food, she'd done everything she could here. There was nothing stopping her from moving on-

Until she got a message from her landlord.

"Huh?" She exclaimed as she swiftly pressed the notification, her eyes darting across the words at a frankly excessive speed. She read the message aloud to herself,

"Dear Tangle. You've got a new roommate staying with you. She's arriving at 12:30, and her name is Whisper. Please don't make a bad impression." Tangle read.

"Huh. Finally some excitement- he could've let me know she was arriving in.." Tangle spoke to herself as she checked her phone's clock, a surprised expression dawning on her face.

"...5 MINUTES!? And he expects ME! TANGLE! Not to make a bad impression. When have I EVER made a bad impression!?" Tangle said overdramatically, looking at her bedroom, which was littered with;

2 full garbage cans,

5 wrinkled posters, 3 that were scattered across the floor.

and 6 framed photos of cool critters she saw.

"....Okay. Maybe he had a point. I really need to tidy up if I'm getting a roommate. Wonder if I'll get a bigger apartment, then, aswell." Tangle asked herself.

"Meh." She shrugged.

She quickly grabbed the two bins, rushing out of her apartment and down the stairs to the garbage outside. She threw all the garbage from the can into it, and rushed back to her apartment-

Where, she was struck.

Not, actually hit, or physically hit.

Lovestruck. And rather embarrassed at the trail of trash she left behind her in her rush to throw it all away.

a gorgeous wolf with closed eyes, a well-kept, long biscotti-coloured ponytail the same tone as her fur, a pair of steel-toed shoes fit for harsh traveling, a shy smile with an exceptionally sharp tooth that stuck out, a variable wispon, and a specially crafted mask to help increase ranged accuracy, almost all engulfed in a large black cloak adorned with poaches.

"Uhm...Hi... Sorry. I'm your roommate. The new one. You left the door unlocked...so I let myself in. Sorry."

"Oh! Haha, no that's fine-" Tangle said, snapping out of it.

"Wait- where's your bags? All your stuff? Shouldn't you kinda, y'know, need that?" She asked.

"Oh. I put it in that room over there..... I think it was your room- or, uh, our room. I won't be here much. I travel alot. There's a sleeping bag in there." Whisper responded slightly sheepishly.

"Alright...cool!- I like traveling too! Don't get to travel alot though, actually." Tangle said, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly as she wandered off into her- their room.

Whisper followed behind.

As Tangle arrived in her room, she sat on her bed and patted next to her- offering Whisper to sit next to her.

Whisper didn't utter a single word as she shook her head to signal a 'no.'

"Suit yourself. Anyway, have you been on any cool adventures? Fought any badniks? Man, I've always wanted to fight one of those- obviously, not to for just a rush or anything, but to be a hero, y'know? Like that Sonic dude. Help people out." Tangle said as Whisper simply nodded.

"I've...been on a few.

I fought a couple badniks. Me and my Wisps-"

Whisper gestured towards the swarm of Wisps following her.

"- Took down some."

"Aw, sweet! Well, I know this one coffee shop that's not too far away. Maybe tomorrow we could head there and talk about your journeys then?"

"Mm...Okay. Maybe." Whisper replied, smiling ever-so-slightly.

"Great! Can't wait." Tangle replied excitedly.

Tangle looked around her room as silence filled it.

"Uhm..."

She stared at all the trash.

"So, yeah, I'm just gonna continue taking out this stuff, 'k?" Tangle said with an embarrassed smile.

The day went much quicker that- er, day. By the time Tangle had finished cleaning, she'd moved on to making herself dinner-

She grabbed a packet of microwaveable ramen from the cupboards. "Soo....want some ramen?" Tangle said to Whisper, who was lying in her sleeping bag and staring at the ceiling.

"Mm." Whisper said with a nod.

Tangle replied with a cheerful thumbs up as she emptied the ramen into a microwaveable bowl, setting microwave's timer as she placed it in.

Tangle tapped her foot as the time passed, waiting for the ra-

Ding.

She took the ramen from the microwave, and got out another bowl. She divided the ramen and walked over to Whisper.

"Here y'go! Ramen. Microwaved ramen." Tangle said as she sat comfortably next to Whisper. "It's not much, though- Sorry 'bout that." She continued.

"S'okay. Thought counts..." Whisper muttered.

Tangle smiled shyly as she absentmindedly gazed at Whisper, not even touching her ramen as Whisper ate next to her.

"...you okay?" Whisper said as she turned to Tangle, confused to why she wasn't eating her ramen.

"Huh- oh, what- Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." Tangle said with a surprised expression and red face, turning from Whisper to eat her ramen.

She tried her best not to look it, but she was screaming in her head.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god TANGLE. LOOK AT YOU. YOU JUST STARED AT HER! FOR AGES! ohmygodyoumustlooksocreepyrightnow. oh god. oh god." Echoed in her thoughts, panicking profusely over nothing.

"I'm, uh- gonna go to bed now!" Tangle said as she finished the last of her ramen, covering her face as she blushes and walks over to her bed.

Whisper looks at her with a puzzled glare, and then rolls into her own sleeping bag.

"G'night." Whisper...whispers? Sweetly, dozing off surrounded by a group of sleeping wisps.

"Night!" Tangle said as she could barely sleep.

Love does wonders for all-nighters.

[To be continued.]

[thisbeatchachinglikemoney]

Just One Day

Part 11 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: Someone from her past comes back

Warnings: Physical abuse, mental abuse, rape, swearing, kidnapping, hostage situation, suicidal thoughts

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18​, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles​

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys! Also, happy FESTA!!

Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO GET QUITE DARK SO IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION OR DON’T READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Jungkook stretched and hummed in his chair as he saved the last copy of the song he was working on, his shirt riding up, exposing his stomach to the air conditioning that was circulating crisp, cold air around the room. He preferred his studio to be quite cold while he was working late as it would keep him awake, to the point where he would lose track of time and would only go home because one of his hyungs told him to either by calling him incessantly until he picked up or actually dragging him out of his studio.

He grabbed his bag from the couch behind him and began packing everything up quickly, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with Y/N and love her with everything he had. He grabbed her phone and glanced at the time. It was just past midnight. His gorgeous girl had left just under two hours ago and he felt bad because he had promised he would be an hour at the most. He made sure everything was properly turned off and logged out. He pushed his chair back under his desk with his foot before moving out of the studio and locking the door behind him.

He knew that when he got home everyone would be asleep. They normally stayed up until everyone was home, but if Y/N had told the others that he was close behind then they would have gone to bed, knowing that he would be back soon. He said a quick goodbye to the night guards before moving into the parking lot and getting into his car.

He drove quickly but carefully back. The streets of Seoul were quite quiet since it was the middle of the night, but it was something Jungkook found quite relaxing. He loved the glimmering of the streetlights and neon shop lights against the dark sky. There were no stars tonight - it was too cloudy, but Seoul made up for that, the lights on the tips of the skyscrapers becoming artificial stars. He wanted to take Y/N out for a date like this, driving through Seoul and then eating junk food on the hood of his car somewhere secluded while looking at the sky and scenery, enjoying each other’s presence. He would do that with her soon, when his schedule wasn’t as hectic.

He pulled into the underground parking lot of the group’s flat and jogged to their apartment, not being able to keep away from his gorgeous girl any longer. He needed her in his arms. 

He unlocked the door and toed off his shoes, instantly being met with the sight of his hyungs sat together in the living room and no Y/N in sight.

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, getting up and embracing the boy before taking hold of his ear and twisting it. Jungkook yelped in pain.

“I was in the Golden Closet. Didn’t Y/N tell you?” Jungkook moved to cup his ear to help with the pain but Yoongi stopped his hand. “Speaking of, where is my gorgeous girl?”

“We thought she was with you, Kook.” Hoseok replied.

“But she left before me, like two hours ago. Sejin-ssi picked her up. She said she would come straight here, hyung.” Jungkook explained, biting at his thumb nervously. His head was instantly filled with negative thoughts. Which if their car had been hijacked by saesangs? What if they had been in an accident?

“Jungkook!” Yoongi yelled, getting his attention. “I asked you a question?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, I didn’t hear you, can you please repeat it?” Jungkook took a shaky breath, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack.

“I said are you sure Sejin-ssi picked her up?” Yoongi repeated himself.

“I don’t know, I think so. He did text me saying he had got her.” Jungkook collapsed on one of the sofas, holding his head in his hands. “Hyung, what if they got in an accident? What if a saesang intercepted the car?”

“Hey, hey, Yoongi hyung, calm down, you’re scaring him.” Namjoon said, putting his hands on the older’s shoulders and sitting him down. “Okay, now, Kook you need to calm down, okay? Don’t panic.” He noticed the maknae’s breathing speeding up and tears streaming down his face.

“I should have left with her when she said she was tired. I shouldn’t have stayed later. I just wanted to finish the song. It was me who suggested it.” Namjoon sighed and sat down, pulling the younger boy onto his lap.

“How about we call her? It’s most likely that she asked Sejin to stop for ice cream or something like that. You know how much of a sweet tooth she has.” Namjoon suggested, rubbing the maknae’s back to calm him down. He hated seeing him this upset. 

“We can’t call her. She left her phone.” Jungkook said. “I should have followed her. I should have chased after her and given it to her when I realised she had left it. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” More tears poured down his face, his doll-like lips becoming pouted. 

“Hey, no, you aren’t. We’ll just call Sejin, okay.” Namjoon reassured him. “Jungkook, you are not a terrible boyfriend. You are amazing. She loves you so much.” Namjoon looked over to the rest of the members. “One of you call Sejin-ssi. I’m going to get Kookie some comfortable clothes and then try and calm him down, okay?”

“I’ll call him.” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone. He tapped a few things on the screen and put the call on speaker. The ringing tone filled the room for a few moments before someone picked up. “Sejin-ssi?”

It was silent before someone spoke. Someone who was definitely not Sejin. “Hmm, no, how about you try again?” The person replied, making Jimin look up at his hyungs with wide eyes. 

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi asked, his voice firm and serious. There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone and a noise that sounded like a whimper of pain.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” The man sounded menacing. Jungkook gulped and looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes full of fear. Yoongi looked like he was ready to murder someone, and Jungkook knew that he was going to take the main brunt of his anger.

“Jackson?” Yoongi had no emotion in his voice. This happened when he was really scared or really angry. It was like his body shut down any way he could be seen as weak. 

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” His voice was quieter like he wasn’t talking into the phone. “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” There was a loud thud and a cry of pain.

“Jackson stop! Please!” They heard you beg. Jungkook bit his lip, not wanting to hear his girlfriend being hurt and not being able to do anything about it. 

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” There was a slap and a stifled shout. “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.”

“Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.” Yoongi shouted just before the call was ended. There was a beep. Jimin shouted in frustration and threw his phone across the room.

“This is all my fault.” Jungkook whispered to himself.

“Damn right it is!” Yoongi shouted, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up. “Why would you not go with her? How could you let her go by herself! What the actual fuck, Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-” 

“You never do! You only do what you want to do! You’re so selfish, Jeon Jungkook!” Yoongi was seething. Jungkook gulped. “Your sorry doesn’t fix anything! She is gone! She is back with that pathetic excuse for a man and is probably not going to make it! You know what she told me? If she was ever with Jackson again, she was going to kill herself! So tell me, Jungkook, what are you going to do? You’ve sent her down the river to her death! Because of you, she’s going to die!”

“Hyung!” Namjoon yelled, making Yoongi drop Jungkook. The maknae skittered away. There was a slam and then silence. “What the hell are you doing? You know how sensitive he is!” Namjoon was angry. 

“Jackson has her, Joon. He intercepted Sejin and kidnapped her. He was beating her on the phone.” Yoongi’s voice was shaky. “And it’s all Jungkook’s fault. He should have left with her. He knows that Jackson is out there!”

“How the hell would Jungkook have known Jackson would have the balls to do something like this?” Namjoon asked with an edge to his voice. “He called Sejin to make sure she wasn’t walking home by herself! If he really didn’t care about her, he would have let her make her own way home.”

“If he cared about her, he would have taken her home himself!” Yoongi wasn’t having any of it. In his eyes, Jungkook was at fault here. 

“Look, you’re angry and scared. We all are. But that does not give us the right to argue with each other. We need to stick together if we want to get her back.” Namjoon said, remaining calm. He had to. If he fell apart, they all fell apart. “You need to go and cool off. Go to your room and calm yourself down, and then you need to apologise to Jungkook. You’re his hyung, Yoon, and he needs you right now.”

Yoongi looked at his younger member and sighed. Namjoon was right. They couldn’t afford to be arguing with each other. It would make everything a whole lot worse.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet. 

“Come on, hyungie. I think you need some Jiminie cuddles.” A small hand took his and pulled him up to his room. “Namjoon hyung, can you call the police, please.” Namjoon pointed to his phone and nodded. 

Jimin lay down on Yoongi’s bed and opened his arms. “I’m the big spoon this time.” He said. Yoongi nodded and climbed onto the bed, settling into Jimin’s arms. It was then he allowed the wall to come down and dissolved into tears.

“She said she was going to kill herself, Min.” Yoongi sobbed. “She said she wouldn’t be able to handle being with him for any longer. I don’t. I can’t deal with losing her. I won’t be able to deal with losing her.”

“It will be okay, hyung. Joonie hyung is on the phone with the police now and since he has Sejin’s phone, they will be able to track it and see where they are. PD-nim had a tracker installed into the phone that can’t be turned off in case Sejin ever got kidnapped or we did. They’ll find her.”

“Yes, but if they find her, will they actually find her, or will she just be the shell of herself?” Yoongi said, resting the side of his head on Jimin’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

--------------------

Silence. Darkness. Pain. 

The never ending cycle that Y/N was going through. Whatever Jackson had used to knock her out had caused the worse headache. It throbbed, each wave of pain being stronger than the last. She winced as she came around.

Her eyes felt like they were glued together. She tried to open them, but failed. Her eyelids felt too heavy. She also knew that if she opened them she would be faced with the impending doomed reality she was forced to deal with. The reality where she was back with Jackson and had been ripped away from her happy life with her boys.

It was then the most horrible thought flashed through her mind. What if it had all been a dream? What if she had made it all up? Those months where all her fear for Jackson had fizzled out, thinking she was safe? It was a false sense of security. In what world would BTS, the biggest boygroup in the world, be her soulmates? In what world would she deserve seven soulmates? There would only be one way to test if it was real. She had to open her eyes and see if everything was greyscale or full color. 

She tried to open her eyes again, but failed. Had he glued her eyes shut? She reached up and felt along her eyelashes. It was crusty but it wasn’t sticky. She pried open her eyelids, pulling them apart with her fingers. She hissed slightly. 

Her eyelids were unstuck now, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to open them if the past months had just been a dream. Just open them Y/N, she thought to herself, just open them. You never know. 

“Please don’t be grey. Please don’t be grey.” She whispered to herself, gingerly opening her eyes.

She looked around, realising that she was back in that bedroom. Her mother’s lamp was still on the bedside table, although there was a small dark brown stain on it now. Dark brown. That was a color. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing was going well. 

“Look who’s up.” A voice drawled. She looked over to the door and saw Jackson lounging against the frame, a belt idly swinging between his fingers. She gulped.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She glared at him, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head. 

“Because I love you and you love me.” Jackson shrugged. “You belong with me, not with them.”

“I don’t love you, Jackson. I haven’t for a long while.” She spat.

Jackson gasped animatedly. “Someone has some nerve talking to me like that. Where are your manners? Guess I need to teach you again. Kneel and face the bed.”

Y/N ignored him, trying to stand up to him and show him that she wasn’t weak anymore and that she knew her worth and wasn’t scared of him. He slapped the belt across her face. Thankfully he was holding the buckle, but the impact still hurt. She cried out as he pulled her up by her hair and forced her into a kneeling position.

“Listen to me, stupid bitch.” He hit her harshly with the belt. “Just a few months away from me and all your training is gone. Looks like I’ll just have to be harsher with you.” He added a few more hits before throwing his belt somewhere else in the room. “Get on the bed.” He pulled her up by her hair, making her hiss in pain. “Now if you make a sound, I will make this so much worse for you.” He threatened.

Y/N gulped and nodded, allowing him to force her into a position on the bed. Her back and shoulders hurt so much. He forced her onto her hands and knees. He groaned. “Now that is a sight I have missed.” He rubbed his hands over her ass.

Y/N’s heartbeat sped up and her breathing quickened. Was he about to rape her? She tried to move away from him, but he grabbed onto her hips. “Stop!” He shouted, hitting her back over one of the open wounds from his belt. She cried out and crumpled forwards. He pressed his hips against her. “See how much I’ve missed you.” He was hard against her. She didn’t want this.

“Get away from me. Don’t. Please don’t.”

“I said no talking!” A harsh smack to her inner thigh followed before he ripped off her panties. She silently scolded herself for wearing a skirt. If she had been wearing jeans she would have been able to fight against this better. She would have had more time. She sobbed as she heard him push his jeans down. Before he could do anything to her, a phone started ringing.

“Fuck sake.” He groaned, answering it as he stroked over her lower back and thighs.

“Sejin-ssi?” It was Jimin. Y/N felt some relief flood through her body. She knew that Sejin had an unremovable tracker built into his phone that could not be switched off and she knew Jackson had no knowledge of it. Jackson dug his nails into her skin before he spoke.

“Hmm, no, how about you try again?” Jackson smirked, knowing he had full power here. 

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi sounded angry. Y/N knew that he was not going to rest until he found her. 

Jackson set the phone down and whispered into Y/N’s ear. “If you say one thing, I will kill you.” He threatened. “Now, shut up and be good.” He chuckled as he picked up the phone, pushing into the poor girl. She whimpered, the dry friction hurting her.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” Jackson rolled his hips against her, making her bury her head and cry. She didn’t know if they could hear her.

“Jackson?” Yoongi figured it out, but Y/N had just switched off. She hated this. She wanted out.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” He reached down and grabbed his belt again.  “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” He brought the leather down against her skin, this time not holding the buckle. She felt the metal tear open her skin, leaving fresh wounds that would sometimes go over the ones he had already done. It hurt so much. Y/N just wanted it to be over. She couldn’t do this again. He hit her again, making her scream out in pain.

“Jackson, stop! Please!” She yelled, her hands curling in the sheets to relieve some of the pain.

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” Jackson slapped her before grabbing his belt and wrapping it around her neck tightly. She could feel her air supply being cut off. She released a stifled scream, clawing at the leather around her neck.  “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.” He said into the phone.

Before he could hang up, Y/N heard Yoongi talking directly to her.  “Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.”

“Yoongi! I love you all too!” She yelled but Jackson had cut the call.

“Now... where were we?” He sounded menacing. Y/N sobbed as she felt him begin to move.

But now she had that small glimmer of hope that they would be able to find her. One day she would be out of here and she held onto that. For them.

[rimaiahwrites]

Untitled—

Chapter six

Erik slowly pulled his arm from underneath Israel's head without waking her then pulled the covers up to her face, since he had it freezing in his loft.

He swung his Heavy leg over the edge of his bed and stepped on his hard wood stairs that laid up to his bed slowly so it wouldn't creek or crack. He slipped away from the comfort of his bed and made it out of his room without a sound. Even though the sounds of his bare feet slapping against the floor in the hallway was still heard, Israel didn't make a move.

He flicked the lights on in the kitchen, and snatched the refrigerator door open. He mostly had vegetables, fruit and water.  It had been like that since He had started a healthy life style after he came back from the navy.

He grabbed his glass bottle of water and chugged it down. That early morning thrust was real. After he was done he refilled the bottle of water before putting it back in the fridge for his afternoon workout.

Erik went back into the living room and pulled his rug back to reveal his hardwood floors. He pulled one of the wooden boards up and reach up inside to grab his father's old leather Journal. It was slightly beaten up from the many years of his father using it but none the less it was still very beautiful.

his balcony doors blow open from the Wind and he pulled the cream white Curtains back and stepped out. The air was cool but not to cold.

It felt good against his skin. Over the few markings that he had on his  torso- about 400 plus, all in rows around his torso. Some were still healing and sensitive.

Erik was actually still surprised that Israel's nosey ass hadn't spotted them on him yet. He knew that once she had, she will ask him a Thousand and one questions about them. And Erik wasn't really ready for that since he knew he couldn't tell her the real reason he marked himself, at least not yet.

He sat in the big chair that he had hanging to the top of his roof. It swayed from side to side when it was windy or when ever Erik sown it himself. It was soothing though. His balcony was one of the places he liked to meditate and clear his mind. He could look down below, and see businessmen in suits and looking for a taxi, and kids heading off to school with big backpack bouncing against them from running to the bus stop. It was regular city life for him.

He loved the city but hated the memories it came with. He had lost to much in it. First his mother then his father, and so many of his childhood friends had lost their lives to the city they called home. So many time had the city almost taken his life as well, from being beaten on the street by police officers, or being held at gun point at 15, by a local drug dealer that Erik had considered one of his niggas.

The city had done him so wrong but yet here he was, still living in Oakland. Just in a better spot then the apartment that he had spent ten years of his life in.

Erik sighed and sat back down and open his father book. He liked to reread it to keep him motivated and focused on his Destiny. The foreign words of his father language, that he had learned to read over the years, popped out against the old- now brownish- paper. Erik flipped to the page titled, the prince is here.

My son, my prince, my happiness have finally arrived. More Beautiful then I could ever imagine, dark brown eyes like his mother and a head full of thick black kinky hair like me.

The happiness that spread through my body the moment my eyes laid on him I knew I was in love. This was a different type of love, not like the kind of love you have for your mother or your wife it was a kind of love that only a mother or father could have for their child-

Erik read with tears beaming his eyes. Not letting them fall once. Erik slammed the book shut clenching it in his hands, as he leaned forward staring at it. It didn't make him sad, it made his angry. He was so angry at his father and it confused him so deeply since he knew his father had no control over what happened to him.

Maybe it wasn't anger towards his father, but pain that he turned into anger like he always did. And he was tired of it, the anger that had been building up inside him ever since he found his father dead, on his Apartment floor with panther Panther  claw marks in his chest, that came from the man his father called brother.

That's where his real anger was towards, his family. Erik couldn't even call it anger, it was rage. He knew that once he met his uncle all hell was going to break loss. All the pain and rage he had inside of him was going to be released. As soon as he got to wrap his hands around T'chaka fat ass neck, and hear that satisfying crunk that came after he squeeze with all his might. And then his cousin t'challa, was next because he knew that once he killed T'chaka his son was going to go after him. But he was going to prepared.

Israel rolled over on the bed and look over the loft bed. Erik wasn't in the living room or kitchen. She had thought that maybe he had left, until she saw the balcony curtains blow up from the door being open. She smiled slightly and peeled the thick blankets back and headed down the stairs. The little cracking sounds the wooden stairs made as she tip-toed down  sparked Erik's interest, he closed the opened book again, and sat it behind the pillow he had on his swinging chair.

He leaned back into the door frame and spotted Israel on the stairs with a grin on her face. "Hi." She whispered softly so her voice didn't sound raspy from not talking for hours at a time.

"You always wake up in a good mood?" He asked getting up from the balcony ground and walking up to her. She chuckled and shrugged. "When I get a good night of sleep, yeah." She said looking down at him into his eyes, that were still slightly red from earlier. Since she was about three stairs above him, She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned towards him. "Um...Thank you for last night, I had fun. It was the first time in a long time that I have felt like someone actually wanted to hang and spend time with me..." she admitted, looking down at his chest as she fiddled with his shirt. He rested his hands on her waist and squeezed lightly. "You don't have to thank me princess, I enjoy hanging wit' you." He spoke softly, brushing her face with his knuckles. Slightly pushing her face to the side.

Her gut felt bubbly with happiness, and her cheeks were starting to hurt with how hard she was smiling. And Erik only made it harder for her to stop from the way he was looking at her.

That look he gave her. The one were he would title his head like a puppy and lick his lips while keeping Direct eye contact.

The thigh clenching look if you will.

"You hungry?" He asked, picking her up and swinging her off the stairs to the bottom. "No not really, I don't like to eat breakfast that much because I'm never that hungry." She said sitting at the kitchen counter. His eyes raised and he turned to her.

"You gotta eat breakfast Israel, that's the most important meal of the day." She rolled her eyes because she had heard it so many time before from her mother. "I know I just don't like breakfast-"

"I'm making you breakfast, and you gon' eat it." Erik said turning around to the refrigerator to grab the stuff he needed.

And A word wasn't said as Erik handed Israel the plate of two prices of Turkey bacon one pancake, and a small glass of a mango kiwi and strawberry smoothie that he sweetened with orange juice.

He tried not to give her much but she still felt like it was to much food for right now. It he gave it to her at like 12 am in the afternoon she would most likely still be hungry afterwards.

She stared at the plate and then back at Erik, a pout on her lips. He nodded his head, as if telling her to go ahead and start eating. She sighed and grabbed a fork and began to eat, Erik as well. But his plate was stuffed. Three pancakes, three prices of bacon, and the rest of the plate was taken up by the four scrambled eggs. He was a big boy and needed all the food he could get.

"Is it good?" He asked, month full of food.

"Yeah, it's good even though your Force feeding me it." She chuckled taking another small bite. Erik gave her a close month smile, chewing his bacon aggressively.

"You'll get used to it, eventually your body will want to eat in the morning, anyway your parents call you yet?" She shook her head, taking a sip of her smoothie. "No, I don't know what's going on but hopefully my mother calls soon to fill me in and let me know they made it there safe." She said her thoughts wondering off a bit.

After they were done eating Erik decided he wanted to workout at his favorite boxing gym. So they both got dressed quickly, Israel just put on a white oversized t-shirt and a pair of gray leggings and her white nike sneakers, while Erik wore black baseball shorts a dark gray workout shirt and black running shoes.

Once Erik grabbed his bag they were at the door and headed to the gym.

Erik turned into the parking lot Of his boxing gym named the home of Apollo Creed. Israel raised her eyebrows but she went with it. Erik opened her door while he throwing his gym bag over his shoulder. "A boxing gym?" She questioned following him inside the cold building. There was about ten different sweating men hitting at punching bags or at their couch Gloved hands.

"Yes, that's what the sign says right?" He chuckled dropping his bag on the floor. She rolled her eyes at his slick reply and plopped Down on the bench near his gym bag, "you didn't tell me it was a boxing gym but k, smart ass." She mumbled, watching him watch her while he put on the thin black gloves that fighters put on before the actual boxing gloves. He was clearly not new at this because he wasn't paying much attention to his movements, he was staring at Israel. Something she had noticed he tends to do a lot. But they were even because she caught herself staring at him today more times then she'll like to amid.

"Come on," he smiled pulling her across the gym catching some of the busy men eyes, there was a couple of "damn Erik who dis?" And "this yo new girl?" Erik only grinned, winking at them. While Israel tried to hide herself behind him. Erik noticed and chuckled softly before hugging her to his side.

"You bout to get a couple of boxing lessons for free, by thee Erik Stevens." He sang playfully making her crack a smile. He turned around to look in the big box of gloves and found some pink ones from the little 15 year old girl that used to box here. They looked like they could fit. "Come here, gimme your hand." She slide both her hands in the glove and smiled at how cute they looked on her. "Tiny ass hands," Erik mumbled jokily making her roll her eyes and giggle. "Big ass hands...hulk smash face ass 'I'm Wreck-It' neck ass-" She shot back. he laughed loudly throwing his head back before telling her to "shut the hell up before I knock you out." She just rolled her eyes.

" Ok we're gonna start with a simple, 1,2." He explained taking jabs at the air, making his Biceps and man Titties bounce, In the form fitted workout shirt he changed into in the car. She copied the simple move but aiming at his hands this time. "Ok we gonna do that same move but with a duck added to it," he beamed, excited that she was catching on so soon. "Hit, hit, duck." She moved fast dodging his hand. "This is kinda fun but-" Israel began but was cut short by a high pitched voice and a light skin girl with long loss curls came walking to Erik.

"Erik?! Is that you?!? I haven't seen you in so long," she was so tall that she was almost Erik's height. Israel felt like a child standing next to them.

"This is my homegirl from back in the day, Erie." Israel smiled and waved shyly. "Aw is this your little sister?" Erie smiled sarcastically bending down a bit sticking her hand out for Israel to shake, Israel's smile dropped and things got awkward quickly when Israel didn't grab her hand and only stared at the girl.

"Um Nah this is a good friend of mine, but uh it was nice seeing you Erie." Erik chuckled while dismissing the girl trying to hold in his laughter.

"Oh...well I'll see you later I guess, you should Dm some Time so we can really catch up without..." She tailed off glancing at Israel before smirking at Erik and walking off, making sure to make her ass bounce with every step she took. Israel tore her eyes from her and rolled them. While Erik was busy starring at her ass Israel began to take her gloves off, using her teeth to undo the Velcro on her gloves. The tearing sound brought Erik's attention back to Israel. "What are you doing we still-"

"I'm not really feeling it anymore plus my arms are already getting tired." She huffed swinging her arms back and fourth trying to shake the 'soreness' out of them. Erik mumbled a "yeah already." knowing why she wasn't really feeling it anymore, he left her to sit on the ground while he went and found his trainer, RJ. Erik had been working with Him since he was 15, RJ was one of the only people that Erik felt like care for him when he was Foster care. RJ had found Erik fighting a boy a little older then him outside of a gas station and praised him for how good of a fight was and encouraged him to get into. Erik was definitely hesitant about it at first but RJ eventually convince Erik to do it especially since he was going to be training him for free. It was a way for Erik to blow off some steam with all the Pent up anger he had for the world, RJ was just happy to keep him off the streets. He knew the kid was A genius, he was too smart to end up in jail or dead.

-

It had been two hours since Erik had been training and two hours since Israel been sitting on the hard floor but she barely noticed the numbness in her butt and legs because she was to busy drooling over Erik's delicious body, it was shiny in sweat and his movements were Swift and fast. The faster he hit the punching bag the more his muscles jumped and bounced, Israel don't know how many she licked her lips or clinched her thighs together but she knew her lips were going to be raw and she would have to take a shower as soon as she got home, she didn't care though it was Worth it. She'll sit here all day and night if that meant she could watch him. She wasn't the only one enjoying this whole situation so was Erik. he knew she was watching his every move, she tried to act like she wasn't but she made it very obvious that she was checking him out, but he liked the attention. He liked how easily he can drawl women's attention without even trying. He had her eyes glued to him, not only hers but Erie's too. He caught her staring at him multiple times but instead of scaring away whenever he caught her she locked eyes with him, giving him very seductive look. Erik only chuckled at her Poor attempt and backed over to Israel to grab his ice cold water bottle. Her breath hitched as he reached over her, his hot body almost pressing against her. The scent of his sweat and actual body odor mix with his deodorant made her mouth water. She wanted so badly to reach up and touch his torso but held herself back, sparing herself the embarrassment of rejection. "Are you done?" "Yeah Come on someone wants to meet you before we leave," he said grabbing her hand to help her off the ground. The feeling in her legs started to come back finally as she made her way over to the punching bag. "Israel this my nigga RJ, we go way back." RJ smile brightly at the girl and extended his hand out to her. "Nice to meet you." She beamed at the handsome older man, holding his hand longer then she intended to. RJ didn't mind at all though. They both broke apart when Erik cleared his throat real obnoxiously eyeing the both of them like they stole something from him. "Nigga Y'all tryin' fuck later or what? The fuck." Erik hissed bluntly more so towards RJ, he was way to old to be looking at Israel any type way. He was in his early 40s and Israel was in her late teens, that shit didn't really sit right with Erik. Israel became tense and RJ just dismissed Erik's out burst rolling his eyes and punching him In the arm with the foam glove.

"Shut yo dumb ass up Erik, anyway it I was just trying to see what your name was and shit for later..." Erik's face scrunch up in discussed as he pulled Israel behind his back. "Nigga you old as dirt still trying to flirt with young girls....grow up." Erik chuckled grabbing his bag and Israel's hand pulling her behind him. "Ok and? I'm aging like fine wine, ain't that right baby girl?" He raised a eyebrow at Israel making her turn her face away to hide her smile from the both of them knowing that they'll probably just clown her. "More like milk, anyway I'll see yo old ass later." Erik dabbed him up and left making sure Israel was right behind him. He opened the door for her and she climbed in, putting her Seatbelt on without him having to tell her too this time. Erik got in next making the car bounce a little from how big he was. "Don't pay that old ass nigga no attention, he do that to all the girls that come in to the gym. He swear he's charming-"

"Welllllll......" Israel tailed off

"Woooooow....." was all Erik said before slumping down into his seat. "He fine." Israel laughed widely shrugged her shoulders. "Hell Nah He could be your dad or some shit he's like that old ass uncle at the cookout that get drunk before the party even start." Israel giggled wildly because she does really have a uncle that showed up to the family events already drunk. After their laughter died down things got quite. Like it always seemed to happen when they were by their selves. It wasn't necessarily a awkward Silent just a little uncomfortable, the type when you don't know what Else to say to keep the conversation going but Israel still enjoyed his company.

It was nice finally being around a man, it felt familiar to her. She was always only around boys and men growing up most of the time since she had no younger or older sister in the house, plus the girls that she did have In her family like her aunts and older female cousins were rude and bitchy for no reason so she stuck with just hanging around the boys. it was what she was used to and most comfortable with.

Erik's deep voice shook her out of her train of thought and now her eyes were staring into his trying to focus on what he was talking about. "Huh?" She said trying to process what he said. "I'm gonna drop you off at home."

She pouted and huffed out her breath before mumbling "I don't want to go home, why can't I just stay with you?" Erik chuckled dryly. "Because I got other shit to do Israel." The sternness in his voice jumped out and Israel was just about to let her bratty personality show but quickly caught herself.

She was really quite the rest of the ride this time, extremely quite. Erik only chuckled at her for being mad that she was going home instead of with him, but he didn't give a fuck. He had other shit to do like he said.

"So you not gon' talk?" She shrugged before turning on the radio. Erik turned it off. "Don't touch my radio, answer my question."

"What?" She asked as if she didn't hear him the first time round. "You wanna stay with me?" She nodded with puppy dog eyes. He almost melted. Almost.

"Mm." He hummed pulling up to her house. She pouted And huffed, annoyed with him playing with her.  "Whatever." She snapped before grabbing her phone out of his lap and slamming his car door shut. She heard Erik's annoying laugh loud and clear as she stomped her way up the steps to her door. Erik's slowly pulled away making sure she got in safely and when she did he speed away.

Soon as he stopped at a red light he grabbed his phone and went to his new contact: Israel (with the pleading face emoji) since it described her best. His fingers work at the speed of light as he tried to send the text before the lights turn green.

Good night, princess. Imma see you soon so you don't gotta pout and shit alright? He sent and almost instantly she read it. The gray dots appeared and vanished then reappeared and then her rely popped on his screen. Ok :) it was simple but it made him smile.

He almost sent her a text back but decided to just leave it at that. She was happy and fine now so there was no need to reply back.

_________

Sorry about the weird spacing in some areas Tumblr be weird sometimes with that. 

[glazelilyy]

Congrats on 500 darling!! (I've never participated in a celebration event before! I'm excited)

Diluc <3

Bless you lovely human! Have fun ✨

𝟓𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 - 𝐚 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢

take part - here!

pairing - diluc ragnvindr x gender neutral reader

genre - fluff

word count - 732

a/n - tysm hazel!! <3 i absolutely adore this photo, i used to go hiking lots and sometimes my group would come across sceneries just like this one. hearing the creek run is so soothing :)

content under the cut!

you closed your eyes and let the world fall away.

moss sagged beneath the soles of your rubber shoes, and a gentle wind passed by that tickled the apples of your cheeks.

the pads of your fingers found stability on the jagged, rough texture of a nearby towering oak tree. pine and honey scents swirled in grand motions, scents you thought you'd only smell in glass candles.

you could hear the water trickling ever so slightly down the textured paths of rock and dirt and tasted the sweet fresh mist on your tongue.

you took a deep breath, opened your eyes, and let the world resume.

"welcome back, where did you go?" diluc smiled down at you, hoisting the overly packed hiking bag further up his broad shoulders.

"nowhere in particular," you grinned, gazing down at the creek in front of your rubber toed boots, "just admiring the scenery."

"with your eyes closed?" he quirked an eyebrow up, that smug grin of his never faltering.

"yes with my eyes closed. it's nice to stop and just...take it all in." you spread your arms wide and spun around in a circle, digging your heels into the soft ground below.

"we can take in plenty more sights once we cross this creek and get to the campsite." said creek seemed to cheekily wave hello back at him, contradicting his contemplative frown and crossed arms.

"you're seeing the creek as an impediment rather than a bridge, c'mon don't worry!" you slipped your hand into his—ungloved, as per your request—and tried to tug him towards the damp rocks that jutted out from the streaming water.

"a-actually," he paused to cough into his free fist, averting his eyes to the ground, "i was thinking i could carry you across, it'd be a shame if you were to dirty your...lovely clothes." the slight blush on his pale cheeks sent the dormant butterflies deep within in your stomach fluttering to and fro. 'did he just compliment my outfit? how sweet,' you thought.

"it's only a little creek di," you giggled, his grip on your hand grew tighter as did the blush on his face grow brighter, "buuuut if you really insist i wouldn't mind."

despite the heavy luggage on his shoulders, diluc had no problem swooping down and looping his arms around your back and under your knees. the sudden lift upwards had you scrambling to find purchase anywhere on his body, eventually settling for looping your arms around his neck.

his body was scorching and toned against yours as he cradled you against him. you were no stranger to him and yet he still somehow had you swooning all over again as if his body were a foreign ruin you'd yet to discover. you could practically feel the vibrations of his quiet laugh having placed your ear next to his warm chest. "i've got you, don't worry." he spoke lowly, almost into the top of your head. you were glad you had your face pressed into his chest otherwise you weren't sure what kind of face he'd make if he saw how flustered you were.

carefully, he stepped forward onto one of the damp rocks, slick with moisture and moss. despite his grace, poise, and elegance, the edge of his hiking boot slipped slightly on the rim of a smoother rock, eliciting the cutest surprised squeak from his lips. raising your head from his chest in utter bewilderment, he caught your amused gaze and tried to suppress his ever-growing blush.

"y-you heard none of that." he muttered, continuing to hop from rock to rock.

"mhm, but you really are quite cute di." you drawled, pressing your index finger into his squishy, red cheek.

his boots made a final landing onto the soft bank of the other side, but much to your confusion diluc kept walking with you snug in his arms.

"di?? we've crossed the creek you can put me down now!" his lips tugged upwards and sideways as he cast a teasing glance down at your perplexed eyes.

diluc leaned down and pressed his lips square in the middle of your burning hot forehead, smiling against your skin. "i think i'd much rather continue on like this, my love."

with how fast your heart sped in your chest, you definitely realized you'd be better off in his arms than trying to follow him on lovesick, wobbly legs.

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse (Part 2)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: argument, crying, a decent dose of awkward but it gets resolved!

Word count: 4.1k

Comment: This is the fourth time I’ve tried to post this--- Part 1 HERE!

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

Roman ran a hand through his hair at the message, checking the time at the top of the screen. It was late, far too late, so it was safe to assume that Logan had heard about the spat from Virgil. He should have been home by now. It was just… impossible to convince himself to actually leave the rehearsal studio. He had a younger acting class tomorrow and was perfecting his lesson plan- even though he already knew it was perfect, and his director had already approved it. Just, anything to keep him from going home.

He’d been a dick. Such was obvious; from the second his finger had hit send, he regretted approximately everything in his life that had led to this moment. That day had been particularly bad, overrun with rehearsals he was either taking part in or directing, and gearing up for tech week of a large production. Who knew trying to block a scene with a flurry of pre-teens could take so much out of you? Rinse and repeat the cycle with two more classes to teach back to back and an achingly long dance rehearsal, add in a desperate and fruitless search for a replacement lead in his upcoming directorial debut, and you’d have what Roman would categorize as a “shit show of a day”. 

All he wanted to do at the end of it was spend some time with his boyfriend, without having to talk about his day, so he’d suggested the most basic date his fried brain could conjur. Then his work desk was unceremoniously reacquainted with his forehead as he smacked it into the wood, letting out a groan that bordered on a yell. Luckily, minutes ago everyone had abandoned the theatre, and he’d been trusted with the keys to lock up from a stagehand. He just had a couple more things to do, and then he could drive home. 

Getting a reply of denial from Virgil was nothing new. In fact, he’d been warned in the transition from reluctant acquaintanceship to inevitable friendship, that he tended to veto ideas if they were sudden, or too daunting, or if he was just feeling shitty. It was something that Roman never considered a deal breaker, and he’d slowly come to much rather enjoy a night of cuddling and watching television than going out anyways. Call it ‘getting old’, call it ‘Virgil’s homebody ways creeping into his psyche’. So usually, getting his plans rejected was no big deal. 

Except for today, when he was well and past his limit of frustration, and things not going to plan. He’d typed out and sent the snarky reply far before he’d thought it out whatsoever, and ranted out complaints that hadn’t ever crossed his mind before, which he immediately regretted. In a moment of shame so great it caused physical nausea, he tossed his phone into one of his desk drawers and slammed it shut. 

It buzzed once, twice, and then went silent. 

Until, of course, it began to go berserk an indecipherable amount of time later, and Roman couldn’t ignore it. Seeing Logan’s text, along with about a million missed calls from him and Patton, broke the fragile sense of calm he’d tried to achieve while working. 

He didn’t want to go home and face his consequences. Childish, yes. Well deserved, also yes, but he was afraid of Virgil’s inevitable anger. If this led to a breakup, a fight that wasn’t recoverable, he’d never forgive himself. 

And now…

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

I can see you’ve read my text message.

-Logan

I’m at work. 

You’re inconceivably moronic. Get home. Now.

-Logan

Roman sighed heavily through his nose, clenching his jaw. He began typing out another snarky response- because apparently he never learned- when another text came through.

Virgil was in significant distress last I spoke to him and he has stopped answering me and Patton. Go. Home.

-Logan

Please. If not for my sake, then for Virgil’s.

-Logan

Fuck.

Roman barely had the sense to lock the doors of the building in his rush, throwing the spare key back in through the mail slot and booking it to his car. He sent some sort of confirmation that he was going and tossed the phone to his back seat. Virgil hated when he used it while driving.

It was only on the drive back, on unusually empty roads, did he realize it was well past nine. He hadn’t even noticed the time passing by.

Most of the lights in the apartment complex were still on when he pulled into the car park, but their window visible on this side showed only darkness. He wasn’t used to entering a dark apartment.

Their flat was silent, the living room only illuminated by the oven clock and the dim city lights from the balcony. He toed off his shoes as silently as he could, wincing when he kicked their shoe rack, and decided he’d risk turning on the light. When he finally found the switch and flicked it on, he couldn’t help his gasp. 

The room had once been a pristine display, he could tell. A white table cloth adorned their usually bare dining room table and a half burned candle stood as its centrepiece. He approached it in a daze, cautiously resting a hand on the plate of ravioli nearest to him. Cold. Long cold; the pasta was starting to get crusty. 

He picked up the two plates, intent on throwing out the food. It definitely wasn’t safe to eat anymore, and he didn’t feel like warding off an attack of ants in the morning. One of the towels hanging off the oven handle was drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, and it looked like there was some more spilled in the crack between the stove and the counter. That would be fun to clean. 

Both hands full, he opened the cupboard containing the garbage bin with a socked foot, and promptly froze. 

Part of him cringed at the clang the dropped plates made on the counter, but the louder part of him was just repeating a mantra of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ and it was considerably out-screaming the other. Hands now shaking, Roman picked up the small box from the sink edge, ignoring the dried, crunchy texture of more tomato sauce on the outside, and opened it. 

It took every ounce of strength for Roman not to collapse to his knees, guilt instantly crushing the air from his lungs, a thousand times heavier than it had been before. An elaborate dinner, a ring… there had been a plan. That’s why Virgil had rejected his offer to go out. 

And he’d been such a dick to him. 

Speaking of which, where was he?

Roman closed the box and set it back where it had been. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the most obvious place Virgil would be, so he padded over and creaked it open just a bit more. The light from the hallway cast a beam onto the bed, illuminating first a mess of hastily thrown clothes; his button up shirt he only used for fancy occasions on top of the pile. 

Virgil’s huddled form was easy to make out, curled away from the door, his only movement being the steady rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed. Figaro lifted his head from where he was settled in the crook of Virgil’s knees and gave Roman an indifferent mrow. 

He couldn’t get into bed with him. There was no scenario where that was the right move. It wasn’t the right time to talk about what had happened, not so late and when they were both riding high on emotions and tiredness, so accidentally waking Virgil was not the way to go. And even if he was sneaky enough to not wake him… a part of him just felt it was wrong. Not when he didn’t know Virgil’s stance on him at the moment.

Or his stance on the relationship.

Well, couch it was. He acknowledged the crumpled weighted blanket and sound blocking headphones- clear aftermath of a bad panic attack- with a quiet curse. Somehow that pit in his stomach got even bigger, making him nauseous as his shame took a physical form. 

He could only pray that they would come back from this. 

Roman’s sleep was fitful, to say the least. At best, he drifted into a state of half-consciousness, where his thoughts could be somewhat quieted down, but the discomfort of the couch and the heavy weight in his heart were still palpable. Inevitably, one of their neighbors would make a noise or the building would make a settling creak or a distant dog would bark, and the state would be broken, leaving Roman wide awake and wracked with guilt once more. He’d never noticed how loud the world was until he wanted nothing more than for the noise to stop. 

The sun was just peaking into the window when their bedroom door widened and Roman flew up, using the back of the couch to steady his sudden sitting position. When their eyes met from across the room, Virgil in his pajamas and face hidden in shadow, a tenseness settled over the room that neither had experienced in their relationship thus far. Virgil froze in the doorway, wavering slightly. It didn’t appear he wanted to be the one to break the silence. 

Roman stood slowly, as though not to spook him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Virgil whispered with a sniff, and even in that one word Roman could hear the scratchiness of his voice. “I just...uhm,” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to get some water. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. No… no worries.” 

Virgil looked down to his feet. “When did you come back?”

“I think just before ten.”

“‘Kay.”

For an all too long moment, both of them seemed to find interest in every part of the room that wasn’t the other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Roman looked towards the kitchen in his awkwardness did he process what Virgil had come out for. 

“I’ll, um…” He pointed weakly to the kitchen and finally convinced his feet to move, filling up a glass from the sink while making a conscious effort to not look at the dishes or wasted food from the evening before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted towards the box sitting next to the tap, and judging by Virgil’s sharp inhale, the look hadn’t been subtle. 

He took the glass back to the other, watching him take it with an uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

Virgil downed the glass in one go, his shaking hands almost causing him to spill. He barely had time to take a breath before Roman had zipped the empty glass back onto the counter.

“Do you want more?” He asked, already refilling the glass.

“No, I’m… it’s okay.” 

Roman placed the full glass on the counter quietly and the two were swallowed by heavy silence once again. The clock ticked impossibly loud as they stood, fidgeting, wanting this moment to be over but not wanting to be the one to start it. 

Virgil took a shuddering breath and wrung his hands together.

Roman stared resolutely at a single water drop making its way down the glass.

This was his fault. He’d started it. It seemed only right that he break the tension that almost suffocated him, so even as his mind screamed for him to shut up and every muscle in his body turned to liquid, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

That effectively stopped Roman in his tracks. All night, he’d crafted a collection of apologies, from eloquent monologues to stumbling pleas for forgiveness, but in not one of his countless scenarios had Virgil apologized. 

“I know… I know I can be a lot to handle, I know, I swear. And I was more outgoing when we first met, because I thought I had something to prove and it always exhausted me and I hated it but then we became… I don’t know, official? And closer and… and more comfortable and I didn’t think I had to do that anymore, I didn’t have to keep pushing myself so far!”

“V, stop-”

“The panic attacks and the anxiety and all that shit are a lot for other people and I know that but I didn’t know it was too much for you, I didn’t know you were tired of that and I can be better, I swear, I swear I can go back to how I was in the beginning, just please don’t leave.”

Virgil let out a choked sob and Roman couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, intent on holding his stupid, stupid boyfriend until he realized this was in no way his fault, only for Virgil to back up before he could do so.

“I’m- I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m sorry, I just, I love you, and I can be better, I can, just give me a chance, please-”

“Virgil, baby, come here.”

This time when he reached forward, Virgil allowed himself to be pulled into his boyfriend’s chest, basically collapsing against him as soon as Roman’s arms tightened around him. The dam broke moments later and Virgil finally let go of his own hands to grab the back of Roman’s shirt with a sense of urgency.

“Please don’t leave, I’m so sorry,” he begged raspily into Roman’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

Roman hung onto him almost as tightly in return, rocking them back and forth, finally allowing himself to cry. He shoved his face into Virgil’s hair, peppering small kisses and apologies to the crown of his head in between sobs. 

Virgil whined when Roman finally pulled away, but he didn’t go far, cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiping his tacky cheeks with his thumbs.

“Virgil, I cannot apologize enough for yesterday.”

“What are-” he hiccuped, “What are you talking about? It was my fault.”

“No, no, no no no no no,” Roman whispered, fighting that damn lump in his throat once more. “I had a spectacularly shitty day, and I took it out on you. I was leagues out of line. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m so, so unbelievably sorry.” 

As if the strings were cut on a marionette, all the tenseness dissolved from Virgil’s shoulders and he slumped forward, bumping his head weakly into Roman’s chest. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman clumsily led him to the couch and sat on the adjacent cushion, assuming that if Virgil wanted to talk, he’d want his own space. His assumption was incorrect, however, judging by how Virgil crossed the space almost instantly and buried himself in Roman’s side like a koala. He shifted them both until he was laying on his back, Virgil splayed across him .

“I thought you’d be more upset with me,” He muttered, freeing his hand to run it through Virgil’s hair. His fingers raked through his own tears trapped in the locks and he grimaced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” responded Virgil, accompanied by a shuddering breath, “I just need to know that you’re really here. And I need you.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the sun begin to peek through their window, until Virgil spoke again sardonically.

“If this is a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Roman snorted despite himself and felt Virgil’s responding half-laugh from where he was tucked against him.  

“I agree. I thought I’d fucked up for good this time.”

A disgruntled meow made Roman crane his neck over the couch, watching Figaro stretch languidly in their bedroom doorway. The cat sidled over to his food bowl and sat pointedly next to it. Feed me. 

“Later, Figaro,” Roman groaned, all too comfortable with Virgil as his blanket. A small part of him was worried that if he moved them at all, the spell would be broken, and they’d lose whatever peace they’d settled into. 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all, not by Figaro’s standards. The cat gave an upset mewl and trotted over to the couch, leaping up with grace and batting Virgil’s legs. It was that pettish action that made Roman realize that Virgil had turned stone still on his lap. Figaro changed his approach to headbutting at his arm in a clear attempt to get pets, but Virgil’s hand stayed still by their sides. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roman murmured. 

“That stuff you said, about me… not contributing to the relationship…” Virgil croaked, and Roman stilled,  “What can I do to-… to fix that? Because I wanna fix it.”

“Baby, no,” Roman whispered, that shame-nausea returning, “I-” He groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch behind him, “I was being an asshole. I didn’t mean that.”

Virgil didn’t budge, still deliberately ignoring Figaro’s futile begging for attention. “Then where did it come from?”

He took a breath deep enough that Virgil rose and fell with his chest, and Roman was struck with the profound urge to pull him closer and never let him go. But that would likely make him feel trapped, and that wasn’t productive. “You remember when I dragged you to that improv show my students put on last year?”

“You introduced me as your boyfriend and we found out the class had placed bets on whether you were gay or not. I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious.”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Maybe they just were trying not to stereotype!”

“Your phone case is a rainbow-”

“Anyways!” He interrupted, resuming his gentle threading through Virgil’s hair, who snorted but otherwise gave in to the affection. “Remember what happened after?”

“Mmhm.”

It had been a fantastic show, and Roman had been exceedingly proud of his little students, especially since it was his first time ever teaching a class. After the night, when the betting chaos had settled and everyone quickly adopted Virgil as theirs now, they’d pleaded to play a few more improv games before the theatre closed. Seeing as it was their last class, hence the performance in the first place, Roman had acquiesced. But neither of the men had expected for the gang of pre-teens to latch onto Virgil and beg him to play too, despite him having zero theatre experience. 

“Remember what they said?”

“They tried to pack all your lectures into five minutes of information.”

“I don’t lecture, I dazzle.” 

“They thought you were straight.” 

“Only some, and that’s not the point!”

Virgil finally lifted his head, pulling his hands up so he could lay his chin on top of them. He smiled weakly. “Then what is the point?”

“The most important rule of improv is to keep the scene going. No matter what nonsense you have to pull out, just never leave a scene flat.”

There was a quiet moment while the other processed that before, once again, that layer of hurt reappeared on his face. He pushed himself off Roman’s chest in preparation to get up. “So… you’re saying you saw that argument as another scene you had to keep up.”

“No, shit, that came out wrong,” Roman insisted, and Virgil paused suspiciously, “I’m saying, that in a moment of panic, I fell back on bullshitting my way through it! That’s literally what I do for a living!” 

The distrust gave way to resignment and Virgil chewed on his cheek, turning his attention to the window. He sat all the way up on Roman’s legs, leaning back on his shins. “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me right now?” He said. 

“Because,” Roman followed him up, careful not to move his legs and dislodge his boyfriend, “You know I like when the bed is made, and even though you hate making it, you always do when I’m out of the house before you.”

Virgil looked down at his thumb.

“Because you let me choose the music in the car.”

“... you don’t like loud music,” He muttered, picking at the skin around his cuticle.

“You adjust your work schedule to come to every single one of my shows.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but you hate working mornings. You let me rant about all my theatre stuff, even if you don’t get any of it.”

“I’m learning.” A faint smile was breaking through.

“You tell me when there’s spinach in my teeth, or my hair is messy, or if I’m acting like an asshole.”

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

Roman reciprocated the smile at that, taking Virgil’s hands in his own to stop the attack at his nail. “I’ve been watching you better yourself for years, even if it’s been really, really hard.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Virgil asked with a small blush, switching his fidgeting tactic to fiddling with Roman’s fingers. 

“Every time you do something that betters yourself, you help us, Virgil.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Virgil the time to move away if he wanted to, and rested their foreheads together. “Yesterday, I fucked up. Badly. You said you were anxious and I still acted like a dick. I kinda thought you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Virgil whispered, seemingly before he had a chance to process it, because his blush multiplied tenfold. Roman grinned. 

“Aw, is someone feeling sappy?”

“Shut up, jackass,” He retorted, bonking their heads together ever so gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” Roman said after their giggles and blushes had faded, “It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

In lieu of answering, Virgil closed the already scant distance between their lips, and despite Roman using all of his self control to not sigh into it, he found himself doing so anyways. All the tension bled out of his shoulders at once as Virgil pulled away, pressing one more peck to the tip of his nose, and then leaning back with a small smile. 

“So… that means we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank god,” Roman groaned, flopping back and dropping his arm over his eyes dramatically. He heard Virgil’s quiet snicker before he resumed his job as a blanket. Except this time, instead of nuzzling his head into Roman’s neck, he could feel the distinct edge of a chin digging into his sternum.

The hand lifted from his eyes to see Virgil staring at him, that goofy little smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I love you, idiot.”

Well, now they were wearing matching goofy little smirks. 

“I love you too.” 

That seemed to satiate him, because he gave a little nod and laid his head more comfortably on the other’s chest. He could have left the conversation there, content to just let them lay there in peace until the world fell away- or Figaro grew more insistent on being fed- but Roman just couldn’t banish the one persistent thought in the back of his mind. 

“Were you actually going to propose?” He blurted.

Virgil tensed for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows, desperately hoping he sounded casual, though his heart was pounding far too loudly to not be heard, “I would have said yes. If you did.”

“Oh?” Virgil lifted his head. “You’re blushing, Princey.” He could hear the smug grin.

“Nooo…” Roman whined. His arm draped once more over his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the redness, but he drew it away only moments later when Virgil didn’t retort. 

The man was staring at him with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement, huffing out a breath as he watched Roman’s eyes.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to propose,” He sighed, “It was supposed to be all perfect, and romantic, and stuff. And the surprise is ruined now.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Roman, continuing before Virgil could cut him off, “If it’s any consolation, I think a proposal in our pajamas, on the couch, would be very us.”

“You’re not in pajamas.”

“I slept in these clothes, they count as pajamas.”

Virgil snickered. Roman counted five breaths as the other’s face melted from a smile to anxiously knit brows, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked down at him. It took another three for him to speak.

 “So…uh... will you…?”

Roman’s face split into a grin, “Yes, Virgil. Obviously.” 

Virgil’s expression morphed to match his and he swooped down to kiss him again, though they barely could with how much they were smiling. They both devolved into giggles, happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s arms, until Virgil broke away with a gasp.

“Let me grab the ring!”

“Ring can wait,” Roman argued, tightening his grip around his waist to keep him in place, “I want cuddles.”

And so they did.

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

@larkiaquail

@noemiescuriosity

@mycatshuman

@cirishere

@vpow

@ray-does-stuff

@sirprplsnail

[marvel-and-mischief]

Too Hot To Handle

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader Words: 1700 Warnings: sexual tension, removing of clothes to keep cool, swearing, wandering eyes, no actual smut but thots, angst, conversation about dying, brief mention of sexism Synopsis: You and Javi get trapped in an airless filing room at the embassy. Can you both keep your cool?

Fic Masterpost

You held your hands up at this one; you only had yourself to blame. Javier had told you to prop the door open with a heavy box and instead of listening, you had used your purse, got distracted with files, leaving the purse to slip and the next thing you heard was the sound of the heavy duty door slamming shut behind you.

Javier’s head shot up, a look of panic on his face as he ran to try and pry the door open.

“Steve knew we were in here Javi, he’ll realise something’s up and come find us.”

“Steve went to have lunch. With Connie.”

Your eyes widened as you finally understood his panic. If Steve was having lunch with his wife he would be in no rush to get back to the embassy.

“Shit,” you whispered, eyeing your surroundings desperately. The filing room was windowless with no visible vents, after all why would pieces of paper need oxygen to breathe? And the door had no handle on this side because who would be stupid enough to close the door behind them?

You looked to your partner, hoping he was coming up with a solution.

“I have nothing,” Javi shook his head and slumped down the wall, wrists resting on his bent knees. He looked like he had given up already.

“Someone will notice we’ve not returned to our desks, right?”

Javi raised a sceptical eyebrow. You both had a tendency to rush out unannounced based on a tip or new evidence so the likelihood of someone thinking you were stuck in a filing room was slim to none.

“Shit,” you repeated yourself, pacing back and forth with your hands on your hips. There had to be some way out of here, or a button to press in emergencies. This couldn’t be the first time someone had gotten stuck in the filing room.

“Why aren’t you trying to find a way out of here?”

“Because there isn’t one. Stop moving,” Javi chastised with a heavy sigh, “you’re using up oxygen.”

“Rude,” you muttered whilst taking a seat next to him with a sigh, “we can’t die in a glorified filing cabinet.”

Javier scoffed at the suggestion, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

After a few minutes of silence you were starting to feel the heat of the room, only made worse by the stress of the situation. You toed your boots off and pulled off your socks just as Javier reached for the buttons of his shirt. You caught his eye, giving him an awkward smile before looking away to give him some semblance of privacy.

Javier was an attractive man and the women in the office never failed to remind you of how lucky you were to work alongside him everyday, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree. He was ridiculously charming and polite, a little flirty but you gave as good as you got. But you had always remained professional, keeping just this side of the line of what was ‘proper’. You couldn’t go sleeping with your partner when you’d worked so hard to be taken seriously as a female agent.

You could see him unbuttoning his shirt all the way down from the corner of your eye but you resisted the urge to stare, keeping your eyes trained on a box of files across from you as he proceeded to kick his shoes off.

“Of all the ways I thought I’d die in Colombia, I didn’t think it would be like this,” Javier said bleakly. You turned then, just in time to see a drip of sweat fall from his forehead onto the collar of his pink shirt.

“Where’s your pager?”

“Desk.” Javier’s eyes bore into yours, as if contemplating whether to ask his next question. “Don’t suppose you have a boyfriend that will ask where you are?”

You furrowed your brow.

“How long have you known me? Have I ever mentioned a boyfriend?”

Javier’s shoulders sagged, whether with relief or defeat you couldn’t tell.

You felt yourself sweating more profusely as the seconds ticked by. Your blouse was beginning to soak through and your jeans was becoming uncomfortable against your hot skin.

“Take your shirt off,” Javier muttered, eyes closing as he tilted his head back against the wall.

You hesitated. It made sense to rid yourselves of as much clothing as possible, with no ventilation it was only going to get hotter and if someone did come looking for you you needed to survive until then.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you quickly removed your blouse and flicked open the top button of your jeans for a shred of relief. Javier didn’t move but the hand resting in between you was curled into a fist.

“Who would miss you if you died here?”

It was something you sometimes thought about in your line of work, usually whilst holding a bottle at the end of a bad day. Who would care if something life-threatening happened to you (which it likely would)? Who would miss you? How many people would be standing around your grave at your premature funeral? And in the case of Javier who rarely spoke about home, who was he running from? Did he have someone he called to tell them he was safe and still alive?

Javier’s eyes opened and his jaw twitched. You wouldn’t put it passed him to tell you to fuck off but maybe he’d go easy on you given your current situation.

“My Papa lives in Texas. I give him a call now and then but if he never heard back from me I don’t think he’d be surprised.”

“You underestimate your importance to people, Javi.”

Picking up your blouse, you ran it along your bare skin, collecting the sweat there in the hope it would cool you down. You felt Javier’s eyes following the movements along your arms, the dip of your breasts and your bare stomach before wiping at the beads of sweat on your brow.

“When I first came to work here, I think you’d been here only a couple of months?” Javier nodded but didn’t interrupt, “you took me under your wing like you’d been here years. I felt safe with you. I got so much stick from people and I knew the shit they were saying behind my back about how I got here. But you, you had my back. You trusted me when I had my hunches when no one else would. I’ll never forget that.”

Javier cleared his throat uncomfortably. You knew he didn’t believe you but you had to tell him anyway, if it was the last thing you said out loud, you had to let him know how much he meant to you.

“And you’re like that with everyone. You’ve got the biggest heart in the embassy, I hate that nobody sees how much you care.”

Javier elbowed you softly, leaning closer in your space despite the humidity, or despite the tension? You couldn’t be sure.

“The people who matter know I’d lay down my life for them. That’s all that matters.”

You caught Javier’s sweeping gaze and relaxed for the first time since entering the room. If you were going to die with anyone, you were glad it was Javier.

“D’you remember when I gave you a tour of the embassy on your first day?”

“You hated giving me that tour.”

Javier chuckled, not denying it.

“This was still being built.”

“This part of the building is new?”

“Nah, it was offices. We didn’t need them.”

You frowned, the cogs turning in your head at this new information. “This was an office?” Javier’s response was nothing but a hum of agreement.

“So this room used to have ventilation?”

Javier looked confused when he turned to you.

“They bricked in the windows,” he said, matter of fact.

You knew they would have done that but didn’t say anything. Instead you let your eyes roam around the room, along the walls, in each of the corners and finally over the ceiling where you found a small ray of hope.

“There,” you pointed to a tile that was out of line compared with the others, the thin metal corner lifted down the tiniest amount.

“A vent?” Javier asked hopefully.

You stood too fast in your excitement, lightheaded and wobbling until Javier steadied you with his hands on your hips from his place on the floor.

“Careful, carino.”

You took a deep breath and padded slowly towards the tile you had your eye on. Javier wheeled a step ladder over to where you stood staring at the ceiling.

“Hold it,” he ordered. You held onto the top of the ladder as he ascended it.

“Can you pull it down?” you asked, watching as Javier inspected the tile. You kept your eyes trained on the ceiling and definitely not on the gentle slope of Javier’s small belly, his narrow waist and the sliver of hair that formed a trail that went below his belt.

“I think so,” Javier grunted with the effort. You could feel the sweat running off you, your whole body was on fire and you prayed Javier had enough strength in him to do it before you collapsed from exhaustion.

With a clang of metal the tile was thrown onto the floor. Javier peaked his head into the hole in the ceiling and let out an uncharacteristic yelp of joy.

“Tunnels! I can get us out of here. You stay here.”

You nodded, feeling the energy draining out of you. Javier struggled to pull himself up so you helped by planting your hands on his ass and pushing. Any other day you would have laughed and Javier would have grumbled but as you took a seat on top of the ladder’s platform and heard the bangs of his knees crawling above you, you couldn’t care less.

When the door finally opened you were half way to passing out, head hung in your hands to try and quell the pounding in your head. You felt arms around you as Javier picked you up and you faintly registered the sounds of a comforting voice whispering in your ear. You knew you were safe before everything went black.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @phoenixhalliwell @anu-simps @bts17army @computeringturtle

[mywonuderful]

Sweet n' Sour Chicken

anon request: hi, can I request a fluffy college au with Jacob from the boyz? 🥺

pairing: college!jacob x college!reader

genre: college au, fluff

warning: cursing and some anatomy terms for those KINE students out there 

a/n: thanks for the request anon! I had lots of fun writing this so I hope you like it :)

main masterlist

You knew you fucked up.

2 minutes

You sprinted, your bag swinging in all directions as you opened the doors of the building, jumped ran down the stairs and finally reached the doors of your practicum.

‘it literally take 10 minutes for me to travel from one building to another. why does my practicums have to be on opposite side of the campus?’ You caught your breath, wiping the sweat that was falling from the side of your face. You peaked through the half opened door, hearing the instructor explain the lab as you scanned the room for any empty seats.

'Second last row, beside the guy in a demin jacket' You took note as you quietly opened the door, hoping the instructor doesn't noticed as you tippy toed your way to the empty seat.

"Excuse me." You pointed at the empty seat beside him. He mouthed a 'sorry' before he moved his guitar bag and stood up for you to pass through. You eyes lingered at the guitar for a moment before you threw your bag on the table, chugging your water.

'A musical major taking an anatomy course? What is he thinking?' You resting your head on your hand, glancing over at him, observing his appearance. His hair was dyed to a honey brown color, looking soft as a pillow. He was wearing a demin jacket with a plaid and t-shirt underneath and you could hear his metal accessories clink every so often when he moved.

“Miss ‘late for the nth time’"You heard your instructor yell as you snapped to reality.

“Yes!” You answered, immediately feeling embarrassed as you knew he was calling for you.”

“You’ll be pairing up with Jacob, the guy you’ve been staring at for the past 5 minutes.” The guy so called named Jacob turned to look at you as you darted your head away, cheeks heating up as you heard a few people chuckle. The teacher went on explaining the purpose and procedure of the labs as you had your hand on your forehead, staring down at the sheet of paper as you mentally cursed at yourself for always being late and for checking out the man who turned out to be your lab partner. The room was filled with student’s voices overlapping each other as everyone got to work. You faced the wall, too ashamed to face your lab partner as you heard him clear his throat, trying to get your attention.

“Hey, so I’m Jac-”

“I am not interested in you.” You cut him off as his eyes widen from your statement. “I wasn’t checking you out.”

"Umm. Okay.” He slowly nodded, as you followed, whisper a ‘yeah, not interested’ to reassure yourself. 

“I didn’t ask.” Your eyes looked up to his as you both stared at each other before he broke into a smile. “Anyways, I’m Jacob.” He stuck out his hand, waiting for you to shake it.

“And I am sick and tired of labs.” You rolled your eyes. He still hand has hand extended, waiting for you to shake it as you narrowed your eyes at him, noting his unique behavior. “Y/N.” you shook his hand.

“Shall we get started on this practicum then?”

"Let me just say this first." He looked at you, waiting to continue as you lost your words for a second in his eyes. "We're going to get this over with, then part ways and never see each other again okay? I don't care what mark I get in this lab nor do I really care in general about labs." You looked at him, regretting the words that left your mouth.

"Cool. let's get started then?" Your heart stung from his response as you hesitantly nodded your head.

Unlike what you said, the both of you didn't part ways and never see each other again after that lab. Instead, you would purposely accidently meet him in lectures, other courses and around the campus where you found out that the two of you shared many common interests and that the both of you were in the same program. As those 'unexpected' encounters became more and more regular, your interest in him become more and more clear as his quiet, soft yet observed actions would always catch you off guard. But whenever that happens, you made sure to not like your feelings get in your way, as you know you aren't up for that kind of commitment.

-

"Where does the mandible articulate?"

"Uh... temporal bone?"

"Good. What joint does the mandible and temporal bone form?" You pressed your brows together, deep in thought. "We went through this 10 minutes ago."

"Cut me some slack, Jacob. I can only stuff so much information in this small brain." He smiled at your response. "Why do you always smile in the most unexpected moments? If you keep this up, I don't know what I'll end up doing." You mumbled to yourself as he waited for your answer

"That didn't sound like the rig-"

"I don't know! The temporalmandible joint or something?" You gave up as he slightly nodded. "Wait, did you hear what I said before that?" Panic started to form as you felt the cold sweat in your hands

"Close. Temporomandibular joint. And no, it just sounded longer than the actual answer." He corrected as you groaned, banging your forehead on the table as he slid his hand under so you won't end up bruising your forehead. "You're going to lose brain cells if you keep banging your head." You shot your head up, looking at him with a defeated face.

"But I'm already stupid!" You cried as he shook his head, patting your head.

"I'm joking. It takes more than just banging your head." You glared at him.

"Then why get me all worked up?"

"So you could stop ruining that beautiful forehead of yours?" I'm sorry but that sounds weird even as a complement You leaned back, taken by surprised before you snapped back to reality. "Look, there's a little trick on memorizing it. Just combine the two words together." He pointed at the pictures on the computer as you tried to focus. He would lean closer to you every so often as he pointed at the diagrams as your heart would race when he did.

"So the joint connecting the tibia and fibula would be the tibiofibular joint?" You asked as you pointed at the picture. He turned to look at you with wide eyes before he broke out into a chuckle.

"Correct!" The both of you laughed as the remaining of your study session went on.

-

By the time the two of you were finished with studying, it was already the late evening as one of the cafe employee came over to inform the customers that it was closing time. You glanced out the window, seeing rain drops slowly fall. Jacob was packing up beside you, as he followed your vision.

"The weather forecast did say it'll rain these couple of days." He mentioned as you stared out the evening sky, rain drops falling harder by the second.

"God, even mother nature hates me." You sighed as you packed your things, hearing a chuckle from him. "What? You find it amusing that the world is despises me?" He shook his head, waving his hand in denial.

"You're wrong. The whole world doesn't hate you."

"Then who doesn't?"

"There's me." You were zipping up your bag, stopping midway as you lifted your head to look up at him. He had a soft expression on his face, as your cheeks started to tint up.

"Geez, I thought I was weird but I'm starting to question who's the weird one here" You threw the bag over your shoulder as you opened the door, holding your textbooks over your head as you were about to ran to the nearest building when he suddenly grabbed your arm.

"I've got you covered." He opened his umbrella, lifting it over your head.

"Actually, the umbrella has us covered." You stated in a matter of fact tone as he laughed, lightly pulling your arm closer to him as the both of you started walking. He suggested that you stay over at his place for the time being knowing that you usually bus home. The two of you walked in silence as you took in the sound of the wind and raindrops hitting the tops of the umbrella, his grip still around your arm. He unlocked the door and turned on the lights, before gesturing you to enter first while he flicks off the remaining droplets. To your surprise, it was a little bigger than expected for a home for one person. You found yourself wandering around as he closed the door, taking off his shoes and jacket. You placed your bag down on the couch and sat down as you looked out the window, seeing the weather get more and more intense.

"Doesn't seem like the rain will calm down anytime soon." He spoke from the opened kitchen. You hummed in response, eyes found its way on a display of pictures of when he was younger with his family, brother and friends. You stood up, walking over to take a closer look as a smile appeared on your face.

"Ah, those were when I was in the volleyball and basketball team." He stated, offering you a cup of hot tea and you nodded, sitting back down as he took a seat next to you. You didn't know where to look as you stared out the window.

"Do you like the rain?" He asked to break the silence.

"No, I absolutely hate it." You turned to look at him. "I don't know where else to look." You admitted as he laughed.

"You sure are one bright person." You spoke, taking a sip. "Compared to someone like me."

"What do you mean? I find you bright as well." He snickered at his compliment.

"Not at all. I've already come into terms with my sour personality. It's just who I am. Someone who's better off alone and unbothered." He was deep in thought as you peeked over, trying to read him. "Why did you decide to be friends with me?"

"I didn't. It was you who asked for my number for the lab assignment." He pointed at you as you gasped, taken back.

"You're just trying to be funny now."

"Then tell me you didn't purposely go the opposite way so that you would 'bump' into me." You avoided his eyes, feeling ashamed that he taught on to your actions

"I can't confidently say that I didn't to it on purpose. But I swear, half- no not have, three forth of time it weren't on purpose!" You defended yourself before the two of you broke into laugher.

"How about we order some take-out? I don't think going out to grab food in the rain would be ideal with the weather being like this."

"I like your thinking. What should we order?"

An hour passed after you ordered as both of you would exchange short conversations here and there.

"You must be a pretty athletics person. Seeing how many awards you've won." His eyes were fixed on the trophies, a small smile upon his face.

"You could say so. How about you? Do you play any sports?"

"Nope. The most athletic thing I've done is run from practicums to practicums." You chuckled as he joined. The doorbell rang as you stood up to answer before he told you to sit down. He thank the delivery man and paid as he locked the door, placing the takeout on the coffee table.

He took out the takeout containers, opening them as your eyes landed on a particular dish.

"Sweet and sour chicken? I didn't remember us ordering that." He brought out some plates and took a seat beside you, knees brushing as he sat down.

"I added it last minute. Craved it, I guess." He replied as you nodded, not caring as the both of you started to eat.

"Say, I remember you carrying a guitar case the first time we met." You spoke as he looked up, trying to recall.

"Ah yeah, it was for a band I'm in." Your eyebrow rose, noting that he was an all rounder.

"Talk about being Mr. Perfect." You stuffed your face with rice.

"I still lack a lot." You choked on your rice as he immediately patted your back, opening a bottle water for you to drink.

"Lack *cough* my *cough* ass" you took a sip. "If you still 'lack a lot' then what does that make me? A complete failure?"

"What? No! Why do you talk so lowly of yourself?" His voice was serious. "You always compliment others but you can't seem to take a compliment on yourself."

"Wha- I have no idea what you're talking about." You put down your utensils.

"Are you finished with this? If you are then let's clean up." He started cleaning up the empty and dirty containers, you quietly following as you wondered why he suddenly jumped subjects. After cleaning up, you sat on the floor as he sat on the couch, the awkward silence was floating heavily around you.

"Hey Y/N." You looked up at him, the back on your head resting on the couch. "Can I tell you something? You have to hear me out though." You nodded, as he started playing with his fingers, trying to put together his words as you found his actions adorable, a giggle escape d your lips as you coughed to cover it up

"Stop thinking so small of yourself. You're not a failure nor does the world hate you. In fact, I find you very admirable in many ways." You shifted your body to face his. "Maybe if you see it in my eyes, you'll know just how amazing you are." You could see the blush across his cheeks, you bit your lip, feeling confused yet lighten from his words.

"Why?" He met yours eyes. "After seeing my personality, the way I act and talk. Why do you still hang out with me?" You answered.

"Do you want me to answer truthfully?" He stood up as you nodded, before he left to go into his room, coming back out with his guitar.

"I've been working on this song but the lyrics isn't ready but I have the instrumental down. Do you want to hear it?" You shrugged your shoulder, mumbling a 'why not,' feeling a little disappointed that he still didn't answer your question. He started strumming an upbeat yet sentimental tune. You found yourself swaying your head back and forth where when Jacob saw, he broke out into a smile as the both of you chuckled.

"Wow. You really are talented." You applauded as he shyly smiled

"There's a reasoning why I wrote this piece." He looked down at his guitar, stroking the strings lightly. "There someone who is so mentally strong no matter how hard the world is in her eyes. She carries herself well, not caring what others think or say about her. I find it admirable that she's so strong but then again, she doesn't realize it herself. I find myself attracted to her, even when she finds that her personality is sour, but I find it rather sweet." You stared right into his eyes as he would avoid them time to time. "And that's why this song is called sweet and sour."

"Like the sweet and sour chicken?" You tilted your head

"Yeah you could say that."

"So who's is she?" You leaned in, feeling a little upset that it wasn't you but nonetheless, anticipated. He placed his guitar to the side, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning in to you.

"If I told you, would you believe me?" He whispered. His eyes would glance down at your lips as your heart started to race.

"I mean, why wouldn't I?"

"It's you." Your eyes popped out, leaning back from surprised but Jacob held on to your shoulders. He slowly inches closer, your eyes shutting before you felt his lips on yours. You instantly smiled, you feeling his lips curving up as well. As you parted, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, both of you in a blushing mess.

"I guess you can say our relationship is like a sweet and sour chicken. Unique and irresistible." He smirked as you playfully punched his knee, exchanging flushed glances and laughter.