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candychronicles · 4 years ago

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enough // k. bakugou

A/N: My first prompt for the @bnhabookclub bingo event: nuzzling!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,582

WARNINGS: genuine fluff

SYNOPSIS: a relaxing morning with Bakugou: does that even exist?

the sun peered through the wispy shades, creating a dancing mirage of yellow tint on the cream colored walls. you reached your hands up to caress the illumination, creating your personal dance of shade. your eyes remained transfixed on the wall, watching the shapes sway with one another.

a soft sigh was heard to your right and you slowly lowered your hand, placing it delicately on top of his head, watching how the hair flattened under your gentle touch. Bakugou stirred slightly but did not move, simply continuing to sleep as the sun carried on with leaking into the room.

it only took a few more minutes before he too rose, roused by the now strong presence of the sun. vermillion eyes peered wearily up at your own, sleep coating his face in a soothing facade, something that was hard to come by with a man such as himself.

you cherished these delicate moments in the morning, where light met dark, sleep and consciousness blending together to create the most wonderful of dreams. Bakugou was a lot less gruff in the mornings, especially after a well rested night. he tended to rise with the sun and set with it as well, which was hard for someone like you, who binged content until three in the morning without batting an eyelash.

there were moments though, moments where schedules aligned, where sleep was deep and long, and where you woke up just as the sun began to rise, allowing you to bask in the warmth of not only the light, but him as well.

his eyelashes were unusually long and plump, something you teased him about endlessly, secretly jealous. there was always a bit of a rosy hue as he woke up, creating a miniature sunrise on his face, pinks meshing together with the yellow hue streaming in from the window. he was so ethereal, someone who seemed so unattainable and yet so broken inside.

you wanted to comfort him in anyway possible, but he took awhile to warm up to the idea of love, never allowing himself to come to close. it was only when you were together for awhile, sitting on the rooftop of your little apartment complex, that he broke down, confessing every feeling of hopelessness, worthlessness, and fear that he would never live up to his desires.

now, though, he was someone different all together, at least in the mornings. you were able to let him be vulnerable, let him sleep peacefully and wake up with a smile on his face because he knew that he could trust you with anything. that realization hit you hard, and the first time you thought of it, you cried, the weight of those thoughts heavy. after some time, though, you embraced the role, wanting nothing more than to give him a safe haven from every bad thought and action that he had to endure.

“hey,” he whispered softly, bringing you out of your thoughts, warm hand caressing your face in an attempt to get you to look at him.

you immediately laid on your back, arms outstretched as you looped one arm around the back of his head, pulling him into your chest. you felt strong arms wrap around your middle, leg thrown over yours as he tugged you close, holding you for dear life.

Bakugou began nuzzling his face into your neck, sighing in contentment. your hands found its way to his hair again, this time carding your fingers through his hair, letting the soft feeling lull you back into a comfortable trance. you knew you wouldn’t be able to last for long before you either fell back asleep or were dragged out of bed, but you weren’t complaining, because at that moment, you were truly happy with life.

“i think we should stay in bed all day,” you challenged, planting a soft kiss to his head as he grunted.

you knew that meant that either he agreed with you or he didn’t, but since he didn’t give you a real answer at all, you continued your actions, letting your sleepy hand smooth out his forehead, enjoying the way his soft skin felt against your own.

just as you were about to fall back asleep, Bakugou squirmed, but instead of pulling away, he scooted closer, burying his head into the crook between your neck and shoulder once more, another contented sigh leaving his mouth.

“i guess that means you agree with me,” you teased, nuzzling your nose against the top of his head, placing yet another kiss.

“i shouldn’t want to stay in bed all day. i have a routine, but god damn are you making me want to break it, just this once,” he confessed, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck as he continued to hide his face.

“routine is boring, old man. stay in bed with me awhile. you deserve a break.”

with that last statement, you resumed your ministrations, this time massaging his scalp with the pads of your fingers, eliciting a soft moan from the sleepy man. the feeling of love overwhelmed you but you didn’t care, wanting to simply continue to bask in the warmth for as long as possible.

you didn’t know when but you were able to fall back asleep again, slipping into a peaceful, dreamless doze. when you awoke, Bakugou was gone, but his place was warm, suggesting that he had just recently gotten up. blinking the exhaustion from your eyes, you sat up, taking your time to stretch each muscle, from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. only when you were stretched did you get up, your bare feet softly squeaking against the cool hardwood floor.

your soft footfall alerted Bakugou long before you appeared in the kitchen, a happy and dazed look on your face as you smiled at him, teeth peeking between your stretched lips.

“whatcha doing?” you questioned him lazily, sitting down at the table with a soft thud, resting your head on your outstretched arms.

“making breakfast. we have to eat at some point in the day,” he responded matter-of-factly, turning back around to continue with the meal.

you snorted, looking at the clock which told you that the time was barely past seven in the morning, but that didn’t bother him.

you were just about to doze back off when a steaming plate of food slid in front of your face, which immediately perked you up. murmuring a quiet thanks you dug in, happy to be eating anything cooked by Bakugou.

“i think i’m going to stay in bed most of the day. watch cheesy rom coms, eat too much food, maybe get up and do some yoga, take a nap. i don’t think i want to do too much at all,” you declared, setting down your utensils when you were done eating.

“tch, you enjoy that. i’m going to do some paperwork and then go for a run.”

you shrugged, planting a soft kiss to his temple as you padded back towards the bedroom.

after you had watched a movie and stretched, taking time to work out all the kinks in your body, you decided to check up on Bakugou. opening the door and stepping out, you were met with a wall, a very warm wall. you stumbled back, rubbing your nose before peering up between your lashes, finding an unusually tired looking boyfriend.

“i’m showering and coming back to bed. i can’t focus on work and i barely got three miles before coming back home,” he explained quickly before heading to the shower, grabbing clothes as he went.

you frowned, not expecting him to actually join you on one of your infamous lazy days but not complaining nonetheless. only a few minutes had passed before he was exiting the bathroom, a Ground Zero merch t-shirt and baggy sweats adorning his frame.

“you look cute,” you teased, outstretching your arms, inviting him to join you in bed.

“shut up,” he retorted back, his large frame climbing onto you nonetheless, engulfing you in his caramel and honey body wash scent that you poked fun at him for but secretly loved, using it on yourself quite often.

immediately, your hands found purchase in his hair, twirling the damp strands between your fingertips before cupping the whole back of his head with your hand, gently squeezing and massaging his scalp.

his response was to simply nuzzle into your touch, lips finding their way to your neck where he planted a kiss, soft and sweet, a simple gesture to remind you that he was thankful for you helping him in his most vulnerable times.

you didn’t want to ask him what was wrong, didn’t want to figure out why he was thrown off his routine, because you knew he would come to you in his own time. for now, you simply wanted him to know that you were here, that you would always be here, and that you were going to take care of him at all times, starting off with holding him close.

“i love you, Katsuki, so much,” you breathed into his hair, squeezing his whole body tight.

he squeezed back with all his might, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

Bakugou could be a complicated man, but in that moment, in your own little way, you knew that he was telling you he loved you back, more than anything, and that was enough. it would always be enough.

Tags: @jojosmilktea @redbeanteax @softforshigi @katsuki-bakugous-lady @ttamaki @secondhand-trash @freiyalight @crystal-lilac @gallickingun

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#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bnhabookclub #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha

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morningfears · 4 years ago

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Just Right

Rating: PG | Fluffy af!

Summary: “I found a ring today.” and “I’m not moving, your lap is too comfortable.” With tattoo artist!Ash request by Anon.

Word Count: 1.6k (kind of a drabble?)

The tattoo shop was finally closed, the door locked and the main room quiet, after a long day of clients. The shop’s staff had long disappeared, all eager to leave work behind for the night, leaving Ashton sat in his office alone. The hum of the overhead lights and the scratch of his pencil against paper filled the silence that had fallen over the shop and for the first time since unlocking the door at ten that morning, he felt like he could focus on the design he’d been working on.

It was a simple concept and should have been an even simpler design but he’d been stuck for days, unable to get it to turn out the way he’d imagined. It was as if his hands had a mind of their own and he’d grown frustrated. The trashcan beside his desk was filled with crumpled pieces of paper, each a discarded attempt at the design, and the cup full of pencils he kept on the corner of the desk was rapidly emptying but no matter how hard he worked, nothing seemed right.

It had to be perfect, he would accept no less for this particular piece, and he just couldn’t get there.

Ashton had planned on giving himself enough time to work for an hour after closing before leaving to meet you for dinner. It was written in bright green ink on his desk calendar and programmed into his phone, just so the shop assistant wouldn’t accidentally schedule a client for him, and he’d been looking forward to it all day. You’d both been exceptionally busy, new clients and projects piling up, so it was a relief that you’d finally be getting some time to yourselves. However, as the hour dwindled he lost himself in his work and seemed to be making greater progress than he had since starting nearly a week ago.

His eyes ached and his head pounded, the strain of the day settling in, but he didn’t dare slow down as he didn’t want to interrupt his progress. Instead, he focused on finally finishing. He was so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t hear the sound of his cellphone vibrating against his desk, nor did he hear the sound of the back door opening or your shoes hitting the tile floor.

You stood in the doorway of his office for a long moment, arms folded over your chest and a fond smile on your lips, to watch him work. His eyebrows furrowed and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shaded in the drawing. His hands were covered in graphite, stained from the work he’d done, and you smiled at the sight. Seeing him at work, watching as he drew or tattooed, was one of your favorite sights and you always considered yourself lucky to be able to witness it so regularly.

You remained unnoticed for far longer than you thought you would but the scent of Thai food finally overwhelmed Ashton enough that he lifted his head and blinked in surprise to see you standing in the doorway. He looked confused, but happy to see you, until realization hit him.

“Fuck, I missed dinner, didn’t I?” He frowned, dropping his pencil and reaching to rub his eyes before he caught sight of the mess on his hands and grimaced.

“Technically, no. I’ve got dinner right here.” You held up a plastic bag filled with your usual orders before you stepped into his office and crossed the room to place it onto his desk.

“I’m sorry, doll. I’ve been stuck on this drawing for so long and I finally got it to start looking the way I wanted.” He reached out for you and, despite the stains on his hands, you took his hand and let him pull you to stand between his legs. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you laughed, giggling as his hands found your hips. “Don’t worry about it. The restaurant was crowded, anyway. People were waiting for tables so I figured it’d be nicer to eat here where we don’t have to rush. Can I see what you’re working on?”

Ashton reached around you, quickly piling a few pieces of paper on top of the sheet he’d been drawing on, before he grinned at you. “Nope. Not yet. Don’t want you to see this one until it’s finished.” He did that, every now and then, and though you hated not being able to see the progress he made, you respected his desire to keep his work private until he was ready. So, with a pout, you nodded and reached behind you to grab the bag of food.

“Oh, alright. Well, if I can’t see your work, you can at least take a few minutes to have dinner with me.”

Ashton laughed as he released you from his grasp and watched as you wandered around his office, grabbing the utensils you’d left stashed in a cabinet for nights like this. You often ended up here, having dinner with him at his desk after work, and though you appreciated the nights that saw you both dressed up and hitting the town, you treasured any moment you got him to yourself.

As you moved about the office, gathering utensils and two drinks from the mini fridge in the corner, Ashton watched you with a fond smile of his own. You were so good to him, even when he did something stupid like forget the dinner date you’d been planning all week, and he loved you more than he ever thought himself capable of.

Without thinking about it, he announced, “I found a ring today.”

It was no secret that Ashton was going to propose. You’d talked about marriage at length, confirmed that marriage was in the cards for you both, and knew that you were both ready. He’d been searching for a ring, one that was exactly what you wanted, and it seemed that he’d finally found one.

“I thought you spent the day at the shop,” you hummed as you returned to the desk and allowed Ashton to pull you down onto his lap.

“I left to get lunch for everyone. Found a shop I hadn’t tried before.” He took the box of noodles from you and pressed a kiss to your temple as a ‘thank you’ when he opened it to find his favorite dish inside.

“So, I should stay away from your sock drawer, then?”

“I’ll show it to you, if you want. That way I can make sure you like it before I propose,” he joked before he took a bite of noodles.

“Mm, I think I’d prefer to be surprised. I’m sure it’s going to be perfect, you picked it out.”

“Hey, I’m the cheesy one.” He laughed, nudging your side with his elbow, before he nodded. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I appreciate it. The boys approve.”

“I’m glad. You figure out who’s going to be the best man yet or are you just going to toss their names into a hat and leave it to chance?” You grinned at him, your question ending in a laugh as his own face fell and he released a groan.

“Can I just have three best men?”

“Your three best men are, like, most of our wedding guests, babe. Gotta make some decisions.” You reached out to pat his shoulder and he laughed as he nodded in agreement.

The pair of you had already started planning your wedding, including the guest list, and had settled on a small affair with close friends and family. You knew that he would end up choosing one of the boys sooner or later and you were in no hurry, you weren’t even officially engaged yet, so you let him remain undecided for the time being.

You moved on to a different topic, opting to catch up on what you’d missed in one another’s lives, as you finished eating. You sat comfortably on his lap, content to remain there until it was time to head home, and Ashton noticed as you both placed your empty containers onto the desk.

“I wanted to finish this up before we head home. Do you want to go ahead or wait here?”

“I’m not moving,” you mumbled, turning to place your head in the crook of his neck, “your lap is too comfortable. Can you draw with me here?”

It was, by no means, a comfortable position to draw in but it was possible. And you hadn’t had much time to just be together in recent days so Ashton nodded. “Sure, doll. Just promise you won’t look?”

He rarely made you promise not to look at his work so you nodded, content to keep your head buried against his neck where you could smell the cologne on his skin. “Promise. I’m just gonna close my eyes. If I fall asleep, just wake me up whenever you’re ready to go.”

He knew that you would be asleep in minutes, you hadn’t slept much lately, but that was alright. It’d keep you from looking and ruining the surprise. He was waiting for the right moment to propose, that much you knew, but what you didn’t know was that he was that he was working on a print for you. You were opposed to the idea of a tattoo for a significant other, you firmly believed it was bad luck, but you loved his art so he wanted to give you something special. It wouldn’t be inked onto your skin but it would be permanent enough, framed and hopefully displayed in your future home, and that was enough.

Everything finally felt just right and Ashton was proud to finally know what love really was.

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I love the idea that there’s complete communication about something as big as a proposal. Like, a surprise is nice, but knowing that it’s coming and being open about it is important, I think. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m. still working on drabbles, promise. I haven’t written Ash in so long, I missed my boy.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!) : @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985, @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @mindkaleidoscope , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog , @333-xx , @thesubtweeter, @zhangyixingxing1

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bitchin-beskar · 4 years ago

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I have to do it, 29. "Sharing a bed" for the fanfic trope prompts. With whichever of Pedro's characters you would like and whichever other tropes you'd like

Unavoidable Consequences

Rating: M (sexual situations, cursing)

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This is a Javi x Reader fic, with what is probably my favorite trope of all time. I don’t care how cheesy/cliche it is, the sharing a bed trope always leads to god-tier fics, and I’m so excited to finally get to write Javi!!! (Sorry this took so long @din-damn-djarin, but it’s finally here!!!!!) I may end up doing a part two, eventually, if people are interested in that! Let me know!

Tagging: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @mxndoscyarika, and @perropascal

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future works, or if you’d like to be put on a permanent tag list!

There is now a Part 2!!! Read it here!!!

Well shit.

You stared at the lone bed in the middle of the hotel room, feeling a pit form in your stomach. You knew before going on the mission that you’d have to share a bed with your partner–after all, the two of you were going undercover as a married couple–for the duration of the assignment, but actually seeing the bed the two of you were supposed to be sharing really put things into perspective.

Javi made a soft, questioning noise behind you, and you moved out of his way, your eyes never leaving the bed. You’d tried your best to mentally prepare for this mission, but preparing and then actually doing were two completely separate things.

You’d been partnered with Javier Peña ever since Murphy had gone home to the states and the bosses had brought Javi back from the states to help deal with the Cali Cartel. The two of you had butted heads at first, but you quickly realized that the reason Javi had an issue with you wasn’t because he didn’t think you were capable, but because he’d seen what sicarios did to women, and he didn’t want that to happen to you.

It had taken the two of you time to trust each other as partners, but just when you were sure the two of you were finally getting a good routine down, your bosses had to throw this assignment at you.

It wasn’t overly complex, but it was dangerous. You and Javi were posing as a couple, tourists coming to visit beautiful Colombia, all while trying to get close enough to the cartel to identify some of the newer players in the cartel. The more people the two of you identified, the easier it would be to take them down later.

Tonight had been the first night the two of you had actually had to act like a couple. It had been awkward to say the least. You were attracted to Javi, sure, but you had a thing against sleeping with co-workers. You hadn’t noticed if Javi felt similar feelings for you before, but tonight, it had become painfully clear how bad the two of you were at acting.

You’d jumped every time he touched you, and he could barely look you in the eye. Somehow, the two of you had managed to fool people that you were a couple, but you knew it wouldn’t last if the two of you couldn’t get your acts together.

“Let me shower, compañera, and then I’ll take the floor.”

Despite your inner pep-talk, you still jumped at Javi’s voice. Once you absorbed his words however, you turned and frowned. “Javier, if you think I’m going to let you sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly good bed right there then you don’t know me very well.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you raised your hand, cutting him off. “No, Peña, you’re not sleeping on the floor. We’re both adults, plus it’ll be a bitch for your back to sleep on the carpet all week.”

Javi looked like he was going to protest, but decided not to, instead grabbing a change of clothes from his suitcase and striding into the bathroom. It was only once the door shut that you slumped on the bed, burying your face in your hands. What the hell had you just signed up for?

Having showered earlier in the day, you just changed into your sleep clothes. They were actually some of your more modest pajamas, some leggings and an old, baggy, t-shirt, but it was still a lot more casual than anything Javi had ever seen you in before.

When Javi stepped out of the bathroom, you tried really hard not to ogle. You’d never seen your partner in anything other than a suit, so to see him in a pair of boxers and a ratty t-shirt was striking, to say the least.

You were pretty sure you managed to hide your embarrassment at seeing him, but you still rushed into the bathroom to brush your teeth, suddenly anxious about being in the same room as him for any length of time.

You stalled as much as you could, but there wasn’t much for you to do, so you finally exited your safe space, stepping back into the darkened bedroom. Javi had turned a lamp on and was reading the case file, but other than that, it was dark. Setting your stuff down, you awkwardly shuffled into the bed, on the left side, closest to the wall. It didn’t escape your notice that your partner had placed himself very deliberately between where you’d be sleeping and the door–the only entrance into the room.

Laying down with your back to Javi, you pulled the covers up, almost cringing at the awkward silence that settled like a thick fog over the room. You listened as Javi flipped through a few more pages before sighing deeply, flipping the folder shut and dropping it on the nightstand. The room went dark, and you could feel Javi shuffling behind you trying to get comfortable.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but one thing was bugging you. “Javi?” You whispered. “You still awake?”

There was a pause.

“Yeah, I’m awake.”

“Do you have your gun with you?”

There was another, longer pause.

“Yeah. Does that bother you?”

“No. It makes me feel better, actually.”

There’s a quiet snort.

“Get some sleep, compañera.”

***

Something woke you up.

It was pitch black in the room, so you knew it was still night, but you couldn’t figure out what had woken you up. You were usually a pretty heavy sleeper, so for something to have woken you up, it had to be more than just a little noise outside.

You lay there, silently, still groggy, trying to figure out what was wrong. Just as you were about to give up and try to go back to sleep, you were startled as what you thought was just the blanket around youe waist tightened, and you were pulled across the bed until your back hit a hard chest behind you.

Your eyes flew back open, and you held your breath. Suddenly, you were wide awake. You quickly figured out that it wasn’t the blanket around your waist, but instead Javi’s arm, slung across your body, his warm palm resting on your stomach–thankfully, over your shirt.

He was pressed against your back, clearly still asleep based on his breathing. His face was buried in your neck, his lips pressed against your bare skin. You could feel his breath against your skin, and goosebumps erupted down your arms.

Still holding as still as possible, your mind raced, trying to figure out what exactly you should do. You didn’t want Javi to think you were taking advantage of him or anything while he was sleeping, but you also didn’t want to wake him up by squirming around.

You had to admit, it was kind of nice being held by Javi. Peaceful, comforting even. You thought the two of you might have even entered into a relationship, if you hadn’t been partners and co-workers. But you’d been determined to keep your interactions professional. Your current position certainly wasn’t helping matters.

Resigned, you closed your eyes. If you couldn’t get out of Javi’s grip, then you’d have to just try and sleep. You needed to be well rested for tomorrow.

***

“Psst.”

“Psssst. Compañera, wake up.”

“Wake. Up.”

Your eyes flew open, frantically searching the pitch black for what woke you.

“It’s okay, it’s just me.”

You finally saw the silhouette of Javi leaning above you. You couldn’t make out all of the details of his face, but you could tell it was him. You were on your back, and Javi was next to you, propped up on one arm, his body looming over yours.

Opening your mouth, you went to ask him what was wrong, but suddenly, Javi’s warm hand was over your mouth, stopping you from speaking.

“Shhh. Just listen to me.”

Javi waited for you to nod before he removed his hand. You unconsciously licked your lips, your mouth suddenly very dry.

“I got a message from our contact inside the cartel. They said there are some sicarios staying in the rooms near ours.”

Your eyes widened. That really, really wasn’t good.

“According to our contact, there’s been some chatter between the men. They were, um...” Javi paused, and your brows furrowed. He sounded almost nervous, which certainly wasn’t a good sign. “They were making comments about how strange it was they hadn’t... heard anything from our room.”

You shook your head. “I don’t get it. What were they expecting to hear, Javi?” It was dark, so it was kind of hard to see, but your eyes had adjusted enough that you could almost see a blush spread across his cheeks.

“They were expecting to hear us having sex, compañera.”

Your mouth dropped open. Shit. You certainly weren’t expecting this. You’d never expected that you’d have to pretend to be a relationship at night as well as during the day, and you had no idea what to do.

“I told them that we’re done. We’re leaving tomorrow. I can’t ask you to–”

It was your turn place your hand over Javi’s mouth. “Javier. Listen to me. This assignment is too important. We can’t just leave. Is there any way we can, I don’t know, fake it?” Already Javi is shaking his head, dislodging your hand.

“No, no way. These guys are too good, they’d know if we were faking it. Our only options are to leave, or–”

He cuts off, but you know what he was going to say. Your only options were to leave, blowing the operation completely, or to have sex, just to maintain your cover.

Well, there was really only one thing you could do.

You use the hand that had covered Javi’s mouth less than a minute ago to tangle in his hair, pulling Javi’s lips to yours.

He doesn’t react right away, and you feel a bit of pride at being able to catch him off guard. But when he does react, he takes control immediately.

He presses his lips harshly against yours, his fingers wrapping around your wrists, yanking your arms up and pinning them above your head. Holding your arms with one hand, his other hand cradles your face, tilting your head so that he can deepen the kiss.

You let out a quiet whimper, trying to keep up with Javi’s near-frantic pace. He manages to tear away for a brief moment, whispering “Are you sure?” against your lips. You’re barely able to nod before he kisses you again.

His hand trails down the front of your shirt, creeping under the fabric and brushing over your bare skin. You arch your back, encouraging his wandering touches.

He keeps distracting you with kisses, but when his warm palm cups your breast, you pull away from his lips, a soft gasp escaping your lips. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the noise, but Javi pinches your nipple, leaning down to mutter in your ear.

“Don’t. I want to hear you.”

Another gasp escapes you, slightly louder than before as Javi toys with you.

He continues to murmur in your ear, his voice dripping with arousal, his tone dark as he explains what he wants to do to you.

“God you have no idea what you do to me, do you? Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, compañera. I’m not letting you leave this bed till your legs are shaking and the only word you can say is my fucking name.”

You’re already gasping for breath and he’s barely touched you. “Fuck, fuck, Javi, please–”

You can’t even finish your plea before his lips are on your neck, sucking at your pulse point. You’re writhing in his grasp, but his hand around your wrists is unmoving, and his lips are relentless.

“‘M gonna mark you up, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, baby.”

Your hips are twitching, searching for something, any kind of friction to bring you relief. You cry out when Javi drops his own hips, pining you down to the bed, but also providing pressure where you need it most.

“Javi, Javi please, I can’t–!” You gasp, hooking one leg over the back of Javi’s thigh, keeping him pressed against you. “I need more, Javi I need–”

His hand leaves your breast and instead works it’s way down the front of your leggings, fingers immediately giving you the friction you so desperately desire. As you moan his name, loudly, you find yourself grateful that your bosses didn’t see fit to give the two of you different first names for your undercover work.

“More, pleasepleaseplease–”

You’re almost sobbing, but Javi’s fingers are relentless, bringing you closer to your climax. He presses his lips against yours right as you peak, swallowing your cries as you reach your release.

Slumping down on the bed, your entire body tingling, you blink up at Javi, his dark eyes roving hungrily over your face as he watches you come down from the high.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, compañera.”

You feel your cheeks heat at the praise, and his heavy gaze. You watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your release from his skin. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen, and you know right then and there that you’re completely and utterly fucked.

“Javi, that was–” you trail off, words escaping you when you try to describe the feelings you just experienced. You’re surprised, however, when he chuckles.

“Baby,” he chuckles, ducking his head and kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

#fics #writing #masterlist #smut #javier peña #javi x reader #no use of y/n #request #ask #sharing a bed trope #really #it's just an excuse for smut #I don't make the rules

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years ago

Text

Strangers (Pt.3)

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

Virgil felt his throat close, almost deathly cold.

"R-Roman what do you-"

"And another thing, songbird, I dont want you calling me Roman anymore," Virgil thought he might cry, everything was so confusing and it had only been one day.

"What do you want me to call you then?. . ." Virgil asked, trying to keep his breathing steady, his eyes were clenched shut out of terror and fear.

"I think Romulus has a nice ring to it, dont you songbird?" Said Romulus, resting his head on Virgil's shoulder.

"Y-yes- its nice-" Virgil responded.

"Are you feeling well songbird? You look sick," said Romulus, turning Virgil's face.

Virgil opened his eyes, but when he had, he didnt see the vibrant green he was expecting.

No, he saw a deep, almost black, red color, and the same blood-red stains that had coated Roman's mouth just that morning, were staining the underside of Romulus' eyes. He bit his lip to keep from screaming.

"I'm fine Romulus- but uh-did you forget to take off your contacts and make-up before bed?" Virgil said quietly.

"Oh this? Just a new style songbird, no special affects required," said Romulus.

"I really dont think you should be sleeping with that necklace on though- it might choke you and quite frankly I dont want that," Virgil said, making a move to take off his own necklace.

"No," Virgil flinched at the harshness in Romulus' voice, and winced when he felt him grab his arm and pull it away from the necklace.

"Romulus!" Virgil's eyes went wide as he moved to push himself away.

"Songbird whats gotten into you? You're so jumpy today," Ronulus' face showed an expression of concern, but Virgil wasnt sure he bought it very much.

"You're not acting like- you! That's what's scaring me! You wake up bleeding from the mouth and coughing like you've got the plague and then deny going to the doctor, and then you hit me when I try to get these stupid necklaces off when you didnt start acting like this until we got them! And now your eye colors changing and you've got all this- stuff all over your face and you're acting like it's perfectly normal! And you're calling me songbird of all names when you've never once wanted to call me that!" The sentence escaped Virgil's throat in a series of harsh breathes.

"Oh. . ." Romulus' expression shifted to one of hurt and concern now.

"I'm sorry baby I- didn't think it would bother you so much," he said.

"But we should keep the necklaces on, who knows what would happen if we lost one or both, and if we dont know what's wrong with them than we certainly shouldnt risk something else happening, and you seem perfectly fine, so I doubt it's something serious," said Romulus, running his fingers through Virgil's hair.

"You have a point. . ." Virgil said quietly, looking off to the side for a few moments.

"Do you want me to stop calling you songbird, though? I will if it makes you unhappy," Romulus said, taking one of Virgil's hands in his and using his thumb to trace along his knuckles.

"Songbird is fine, it just- caught me off guard- that's all. . ." Virgil murmured.

"Alright, goodnight little songbird," said Romulus, pressing a kiss to Virgil's forehead and pulling him close.

"Good night Princey," Virgil whispered, before finally falling asleep.

His dreams were odd that night, dreams of blood and axes and chanting and a sweet smile that had turned into the maw of something sharp and horrifying, of wedding bells that seemed to shift into a funeral procession.

Virgil awoke the next morning, cold and sweaty, tears running down his face. He turned to the lump next to him, shaking it and hoping against his own reality that the eyes that blinked up at him would be a beautiful jade color.

But instead, he was once again met with charcoal.

"What is it songbird? You seem frightened," Romulus sat up in bed and pulled Virgil closer to him, resting Virgil's head in his lap and resuming the previous nights activity of messing with his hair.

"B-bad dream- thought- something happened-" Virgil said between sniffles.

"Oh my poor little songbird,dont worry, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere," said Romulus, now pulling Virgil up to his chest, Virgil buried his face in the soft fabric of Romulus' pajamas.

"What about work?" Virgil said, smirking.

"Oh? Getting cheeky now are we?" Romulus said with a laugh. Virgil smiled, maybe it really had just been a dream, maybe he was just scared of something changing when there was nothing to be scared about.

"But seriously, do you want to go to work today? Are you sure you dont still feel sick?" Virgil said, moving away from Romulus' chest and looking up at him.

"I think I can go in today, the extra cash doesnt hurt now does it?" Romulus said, tracing along Virgil's jawline and smiling.

"Extra money never hurts anyone but the people being exploited for it," Virgil responded.

"Theres my little anarchist songbird, been listening to Janus again have you?" Romulus said.

"Of course I have, hes the only one who can make AP Government interesting," Virgil replied.

"Well I've got to start getting ready then ok songbird? You stay here while I get started on breakfast," said Romulus.

"Ok," Virgil lay back down and reached to grab his phone off the bedside table.

Sixteen missed calls from Patton

Twenty missed calls from Janus

Ten missed calls from Remus

One hundred and forty six missed messages from Janus and five others

Virgil stared at the notification screen for a long while, before noticing the 'Silent' symbol at the top corner.

He only felt more guilty as he began to read, hundreds of concerned voices and texts, all asking if he'd made it home alright.

He decided to call Janus and Patton first.

"Virgil! We've been worried sick! Why havent you been answering? Did something happen? Is everything alright?" Patton's voice chimed over the phone, frenzied and terrified.

"I'm fine Pat- just had my phone on silent on accident for some reason, Romulus is back to normal, it was just an off day," Virgil said.

The line went quiet.

"Virgil. . . Who's Romulus?. . ." Janus replied, from further away it seemed.

"Roman changed his name," Virgil said nonchalantly.

"Oh- well- tell him we're happy for him," Patton said awkwardly.

"Will do," Virgil said.

And then he hung up, and it all seemed to feel rather strange.

And this only continued after this other calls. He wouldve thought Romulus would have told his own brother about his name change before he told Virgil, but that didnt seem to be the case.

"Princey?" Virgil slipped out of bed and into the kitchen.

"Songbird? What are you doing up? Breakfast's not ready yet," Romulus said.

"I just got off the phone with the gang- my phone was on silent last night and they were all really worried, but I wanted to ask you something-" Virgil said nervously.

"Yes, songbird?" Romulus replied.

"How come you told me you changed your name, but not Remus, hes your brother, wouldnt he be more important?" Virgil said.

"Well I prefer to think you're the most important thing in my life songbird," Romulus said with a smile.

"Dear gods you're so cheesy," Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

"I know songbird," Romulus replied.

"Can you try this for me?" Romulus said, holding out a fork with a piece of waffle on it. Virgil walked over and took the bite, eyes widening as he did.

"Which brand is this?" Virgil said when he finished.

"Home-made," Romulus said, smiling.

"Careful or you're gonna end up having to do a lot more work for breakfast," Virgil said with a laugh.

"That's the idea songbird," said Romulus.

Soon enough Romulus was on his way to work, and Virgil was alone in the house again, but for some odd reason.

He felt less alone than he ever had before.

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

Tag list:

@that-peach-anon

@lazyboneslover

@baka-monarch

@thefivecalls

@willowaudreykeyes

@pricklyfish777

@the-sad-strawberry

@itsnithbabey

@private-snippers

@0exterc0

@rich-flower-17

@theonetruebeepboop

@mycatshuman

@teamplutoforlife

@melodiread

@meowthefluffy

@frawkeye

@cemmy

@nerosdayinhell

@thecolorfulolive

@frog-candy-bee

#cori writes #strangers au #ts romulus #ts pride roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts janus #pridexiety #moceit #romantic moceit #toxic relationship #tw abuse #tw gaslighting #tw possession

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years ago

Text

One Day At A Time - Jensen x Reader

A/N: Part Three! If you’d like to be tagged, please sent an ask or message. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Widower!Jensen. Grieving process. Age Gap. Character pregnancy. Unrequited feelings. Online personality problems. Guilt. I believe that is all.

Word Count: Roughly 2,700

“Hi, there,” The woman giggled into the mic as Jensen played up the flirty eyebrow bounce and cheesy smile that would be cast over Tumblr within twenty four hours.

He was finished after that final panel, for the trip. Nothing sounded better than a hot shower and catching some sleep. His mind was still reeling from the news he'd been given that morning, but he couldn't focus on that. So, he buried himself behind that charming persona he'd created.

“Dude, leave her alone...she wants me,” Jared smoothed his thick, long, chestnut locks in a way that caused thirsty cries from all around. He cackled as his friend mock frowned his way; unimpressed at the turn of attention. Earning the familiar high pitched laugh from the crowd in front of them.

It was easy to play into their hands. To take the nerves that came with being shy and put it towards acting like a dork with his best friend. He appreciated the disguise more than he'd ever say. Letting it mask the worry and fear he could feel churning inside of him when it was too quiet for long.

“Actually, my question is for Jensen-”

“Ha!” The mentioned man in question leaned forward at the barked utterance, pretending to gloat. Smugly bouncing his brows at Padalecki.

With a deep, regretful sigh, the taller of the two settled back in his chair; wrapping his arms around the back of it as he sat in reverse, “Okay, I guess.” The over dramatically stated words were coupled with a theatrical sulk that drew forth more giggles.

“I was wondering if Y/N and the kids are enjoying the trip to San Diego,” It was no secret that his family had been flocked around him. Until now, that is. The way he paused at that had every eye present turning towards him.

“Uh, actually...” He forced his lips to stay upright. “They're back home, right now.” Concerned 'awes' filled the air. “No, no. It's okay. They're living it up.” Jared turned his gaze back to the man he'd been brothers with for almost two decades. Not buying into the idea that he was really alright with it. “Last time I checked, they were having some kinda dance party. Again.” The way he clenched his teeth relaxed the fans a bit. An over emphasized grimace always seemed to break the mood. “It was wild. There was pink everywhere and a herd of little girls shouting to music.”

“Odette was leading the charge on the one I got,” The taller man joined in, having received his own recording. “Kicked Zeppelin over to my place for an old fashioned dinosaur night with the boys.” More awes filled the air.

“Y/N sent you something? I thought you two still weren't talking after you tried to drown her?” His brow crooked, finding something he could latch onto. Knowing that his friend had delivered that ammo on purpose. He really did love the moose.

“I can explain!” Jared held up his hand towards the 'ooohs,' and then stopped. “No... no, I can't.” His head dipped in false shame, earning another set of rambunctious chuckles.

“I can.” Jensen easily took over. Turning to better face the crowd now that he'd successfully maneuvered around the original question. “This guy tortures my nanny. She's like the female version of Misha to Jared. It's endless.” The mentioned man's lips screwed up as he nodded proudly, accepting the label that was thrown onto you. “So, we were at a cookout over at his place. I'm flipping burgers and relaxing with a beer. You know...like a normal person.” His words only made his friend shrug. Zero shame in sight. “Next thing I know? She's screeching as he full on tosses her into the pool.”

“She called me old!” The roar that followed was deafening. “See? They get it!” He beamed at the response only serving to make Jensen over-exaggerate the roll of his green eyes. “And, it worked. What did she say after?”

“You're a child.” The admission was straightforward.

“Meaning that I'm young, and that she was wrong.” A round of applause made him get to his feet, and bow as the widower shook his head in mock shame. Cracking his own grin.

The mic was lifted back to Jensen's lips, “Dude...you started a war because she told the truth?” He knew what had been said, but the crowd was eating it up. Keeping him safe for a little while longer.

“That hurts...” A pat to the heart was thrown in. “That hurts me right there.”

“The kids all joined in. It was chaos.” Ackles explained the previous comment to the women, with a few men scattered here and there. “My kids and Y/N versus his herd and him. We needed an ark to get to the tables. They soaked everything.” His hand panned across the people in front of him, emphasizing how far the damage had spread. “Everything. Gen thought they were going to kill each other.” Jared cackled. Remembering the look on his wife's face. “Y'all know how we had to stop pranking each other, right? 'Cause it was so deadly? That's what they should be doing. Instead, she's become this...epic battle partner. I'm thinking they'll start the next apocalypse before this is over.” A proud nod confirmed it. Jared wouldn't give in until the world ended. Or, he had to go back to work. Whichever happened first.

“Do you prank Y/N?” Someone shouted, catching his attention.

“Do I... Do I prank her? Are you kidding? Do I look stupid?” More laughs filled the air as he shuddered something fierce. “Misha? Absolutely. He doesn't fight back.” His fingers tacked off each point. “He doesn't live in my house. Doesn't hang out with my kids. I like not having to worry about her sicking my spawn on me in retaliation. They'd do it in a heart beat, too.” And most importantly, it kept the professional barriers somewhat in place. “Yeah, no, Y/N and I don't....we're not...” Weren't anything other than co-parents, employer and employee, and almost friends in an odd sort of way. How's that for complicated?

“As fun as I am,” Jared finished, saving him, again. Hoping that the fans wouldn't take that last statement as he had started to. He covered his own look of interest before diving back into the panel. “Now, that we went way off topic....who's next?”

–

“How did the 'mom' thing even start?” You asked in confusion, scrolling through your Instagram notifications. Your feet thrown over the back of the couch as you sprawled. Making yourself quite at home in the Ackles house. The selfie you'd posted while cleaning the damage the girls had caused was packed.

Not that you weren't used to it by that stage. The moment Danneel had tagged you in a post, it had been over. You'd been stalked and fawned over by some. When she passed? You'd been flocked for updates about the Ackles family.

It had taken a year for you to gather the courage to begin posting again. Once you did? The fandom clung to you for offering small pieces of what life was like inside the Ackles' household. Needing to have that sense of closeness to the supernatural family, still, even with a member gone.

The simple image of you with Oscar resting his head on your lap as you sorted the makeup away had garnered the usual 'queen', 'mom', and 'I love yous' mixed with the occasional trash talker. Once Jensen had commented saying he wanted his dog back when he got home? It had grown worse. When you told him that he'd have to fight you for the golden doodle? The post had blown up. The fans demanding to know if you and him had something going on.

Apparently his panel had only cemented the idea, somehow. You hadn't watched it. Leaving you to only wonder what he'd said to garner that response. Sure it had simply been taken out of context.

You scrolled on, determined to find some answers. A few flicks of your fingers and fate intervened. The phone slipped to your face. Making you wince all the while. As if life had directly told you that social media was bad for your health.

With a sigh, you tossed your phone to the couch. Trying to not let the extreme Danneel and Jensen fans get under your skin. Too many 'you'll never be her' comments filled your mind. More than enough 'stop trying to take her place' had you questioning where you stood. You were doing everything you could to get what was needed done while not dancing on your deceased friend's toes.

Did the world really not understand? Were you really any better off than they suggested? The small crush said you weren't.

“No idea,” Genevieve stated seriously, walking towards the grey couch you were occupying with a pile of healthy snacks loaded up. Pulling you from the internal struggle. She'd been extra conscious of what she was putting into her body since she'd discovered the newest pregnancy. “I just kinda...roll with it.”

She and the kiddos were bunking with you. Tag teaming was so much simpler when the baby exhaustion hit. And it gave the both of you some grownup time together when the men were away.

“It's so strange,” You picked up one of the grapes with your fingers before plopping it in your mouth. Giving up on trying to understand the fact that you'd become an icon of sorts- and the ramifications- for simply nannying some, albeit great, kids.

At your friend's next words, you choked, “So...what's the deal with you and Jensen?”

“It's the same as its always been,” Came the broken words as you got back a hold of yourself. Brushing it off. “Why?”

“Just curious,” That wasn't it. The cool, actress's poker face she wore said as much. But, you were too sensitive to call her out on it, just then. Luckily, she changed gears. “I can't believe that this is it...The last season is being filmed this year.”

The CW had finally pulled the plug on the Winchesters once it had hit adulthood. The boys had found out in a meeting that morning. They'd known it was coming. Had even agreed to it. And yet? Hearing the finality of it? Was another nail in the coffin.

“Eighteen seasons...It's crazy.” Your hand ran through your hair as you looked at the old episode on screen. Sister Jo stood off against Michael!Dean. The tension in the scene was palpable. It didn't hurt to watch it, anymore. Instead, you focused on the fact that she'd been doing what she loved with the man she'd been head over heels for. “How's Jared holding up?”

“He's zeroed in on the kids. Telling himself that it's going to be good for us in the end.” Her hand rubbed over her still flat stomach. “But, he's definitely feeling it. He's been Sam for so long... Saying goodbye is hard.”

“That it is,” You agreed, frowning at the screen. Wondering how Jensen was taking the day.

He hadn't said a thing to you when he'd checked in. Simply had asked for an update on the household before he crashed. Dean had become his crutch. Without the Winchester in his life, you weren't quite sure what he'd do with himself.

Ackles had a passion for directing and acting. There was no doubt about it. But, Supernatural had become everything when his life had turned upside down. It had given him the consistency he'd needed to get through. And while things had been okay for a time? It would be just another major thing he was losing.

Your socked foot rubbed over the soft fur of Icarus. The cockapoo was up there in age. He'd been diagnosed with congestive heart failure at sixteen years old. The white, fifteen pounds of floof didn't let it deter him, though. A couple of pills a day kept him comfortable and loved for as long as he could be. But, it had gotten under Jensen's skin, too.

It made your stomach churn to think about how fast the negative could pile up on already weakened shoulders. And yet, he wanted you to step back. Having time away from him had cleared your head. Allowed you to see his side of things. Maybe it was time to give him some room to breathe. To let him process everything on his own. After all, you were just the nanny...

–

“Dad!” Three voices shouted in unison when the door opened. Ditching their place at the table as Jensen stumbled in with a wide smile on his face. Each kid got a big hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

When they tried to talk over each other, he slowed them down, gently with a, “One at a time.” And, miraculously? It worked. He was informed of everything he'd already had reported to him. Only this time? In child perspective. Which made it dramatic. Completely over the top. Just the way he liked it.

A nod your way was all you received as you slipped past the scene; lifting his bag for him so that no one tripped over it. Including the bumbling dog that was trying to get a kiss in, himself. Oscar had missed his human while he'd been gone.

The dog had been with Danneel's brother during her last pregnancy. She'd been too sick to handle the energetic buffoon while Jensen had been away, filming the show. Gino had fallen in love with the pup. Keeping him...until he thought Jensen needed him more. Returning him back to the Ackles' home solemnly. Oscar had, once again, latched back onto the head of the house with a fierce loyalty that most wouldn't expect from a fluffed up mixed breed. The affection was mutual. Jensen's hand stilled the squirming beast with a simple pet to the top of his curled head as you left the chaos.

Jensen's room was clean. A feat that wouldn't last long once he started unpacking. Bed made up, clothes lined nice and neat, with just a hint of his cologne still lingering in the air from before he'd left. You dropped the duffle on the mattress and turned away. Only to catch sight of the image beside his pillow. It held the dogs, his wife, and the kids all surrounding him. Everything he loved in one picture. His family.

Slowly, you slid the door shut and returned back to the reunion, “Dinner's ready if you're hungry.” You smiled softly at the way he ensured each kid knew that they were loved before climbing back up to his feet. Lumbering after you to get the food while it was still hot.

“Spaghetti,” The actor rumbled in excitement, sniffing the air as he approached the table. His lips smacked hungrily. He was a sucker for a pasta with a good meat sauce. “The wardrobe ladies are gonna be mad at me, later, but I'm piling it up.” He hadn't exaggerated. The flight had left him hungry. “God, this is good.” Came the Dean-like groan as he chowed down. Forgetting that he didn't have to eat like a man who had lived off of nothing more than pizza and beer.

“Dad!” The tiny, disapproving tone left J.J with ease. “You're not supposed to talk with your mouth full.”

He gulped down the food, and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, J-bird.”

“It's okay. Just try to remember,” The words were so Danneel that you couldn't help but to smile gently at them. She was going to be trouble as she continued to age. But, you had faith she'd be pretty great in the end. Hell, they all would if the night was any indication.

If he was upset about the show ending, he didn't show it. Even after the kids retired for the night and he helped clean up, he didn't say a word. The only thing you got was a pat on the back and a low “goodnight” that made your skin prickle before you returned your own.

Part Four

ODAAT: @winchester-ofthe-lord @smoothdogsgirl @ima-be-a-mongoose @briagallen

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @malfoysqueen14 @michealneedssomemilk

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8pmwritings · 6 years ago

Text

bang chan - call out my name;

members: bang chan.

genre: angst.

summary: you and chan met on accident in cafe, soon you get in something more than strangers, but you were just a pitstop until he makes up his mind.

word count: 8422 words.

recommendation: listen to the weeknd’s song »call out my name«.

4th july 2018

»we found each other, i helped you out of a broken place«

it was a sunny day in july and you went in your favourite cafe to get your morning coffee, before work. you were a successful student, which was working at a part time job. you never got in trouble with a random person, you just met in a cafe, but today was an exception. everything went wrong. you woke up with absolutely the worst hairstyle and since your hair is always messy, it was hard to brush it. you tried your best, but your best wasn’t enough. the next thing that went wrong was the fact that you woke up late. it was already 7a.m. and you started work at 8a.m., so of course you were in a rush.

but the blonde boy that was sitting on your favourite spot in the cafe didn’t bother, when you looked at him furiously. his brown eyes looking at you curiously as his head was slightly cocked to the side from confusion. you eye rolled your eyes into the next dimension and ordered your coffee, walking to the table behind the boy, that was left puzzled. he looked back at you, a soft blonde curl falling in his eyes, as your eyes locked and his dumbfounded look softened at your expression. your usually pale cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, when he gave you a big smile that showed off his deep dimple.

after you drank your coffee and paid for it, turning around to leave the coffee shop, ready to sprint to work, he walked behind you quickly, hoping he wouldn’t be left alone as he already was. you suddenly stopped and the drink he held in his left hand splattered on your white shirt. his eyes widened and he quickly apologized, but you just scoffed at him and said: „and i thought this day can get any better.” he smiled softly and casually commented at your sudden outburst: „mine just got two times better because of your ethereal existence.” you blushed a dark shade of red and so did he, but before anything would get awkward – because you two were in a public place after all – he offered you his jacket to cover up the stain that was coloured on your shirt.

after the long, exhausting, busy day, you unlocked the doors of your apartment, in which you lived alone. your younger brother was living with your parents and as the eldest child, you moved out to live on your own. from time to time they visited you or you visited them, but most of the time, you had short calls that consisted of them asking about your financial state, your well-being and many other questions worried parents asked their children.

nevertheless, that night you remembered you had the guy’s jacket on. you reached in the pocket of the black leather jacket and you felt a small paper in it. you took the paper in your soft hands, slowly opened it, and you saw a name and a number under its written on the paper. you smiled to yourself and grabbed your phone from the pocket of your blue ripped jeans, that loosely decorated your body. you dialed the number in your phone, making a contact with the name bang chan (cute blonde boy). your heart fluttered as you messaged him and moments after the message you phone let out a signalling sound that signaled you just got a message. you unlocked your phone and saw his message, that made a smile appear on your face.

you: hey, it’s the person, that you poured coffee on this morning. thank you for giving me your jacket.

bang chan (cute blonde boy): no problem. you are a very cute person, y/n.

you: wait, how do you know my name?

bang chan (cute blonde boy): uhm, your name tag on the shirt answered all my questions.

»you gave me comfort, but falling for you was my mistake.«

you messaged for several hours and the clock struck 3a.m. you sang love songs, feeling this weird feeling of butterflies in your stomach. you felt truly happy and actually euphoric to be in the company of a handsome man by staring at your phone screen, waiting for his next cheesy reply. you danced through the apartment. you wished this night never ended, but there were many nights that you didn’t even think that could come.

24th july 2018

chan video called you at literally 3a.m., his raspy sleepy voice whispering his feelings for you and how much you meant to him. you smiled sleepily at him and he blew the curly string of hair off his forehead, hoping he would look sexy, but instead he looked extremely cute, according to you. you yawned loudly, covering your mouth, then looking at your phone screen to see chan looking at you like you were his everything. you saw stars shooting in his eyes as fireworks on new year. you look at him softened and you smiled at his dorky sleepy cuteness, whispering: „never leave me.” and he looked at you even more loving, a small whine leaving his lips, as he mouthed: „i will never, y/n.” and at that moment, that was everything you needed to hear. he then started singing you a song, hitting the high notes perfectly and his arms swaying a bit, the vision on your phone shaking a bit due to his dancing, that made you giggle. „try not to be cute challenge, failed.” you laughed at your joke and he looked at you with the biggest pout ever made on his godlike features. „but i’m always cute, baby” when that nickname was said from his through the phone, your cheeks turned shades redder than they already were from giggling. your ears turned a soft pink and you looked away from being so flustered from his actions. the time was already 4a.m. and you needed to rest, because you still were working at your part time job. after the call ended, you pressed your phone, against your chest, letting out a muffled sigh because you buried your face in the white pillow that was set under your head. „bang chan, i love you. ”

10th august 2018

chan woke up early from a short amount of sleep he got last night, because he kept talking with you through the phone. he was fine after the lack of sleep - he was used to it. the first thought in the morning he always had fort he past month and 6 days was you. your features, the way you two met, every little thing you two did, engraved in his memory and made his heart fall for you more. then his mind came to a realisation: i love y/n. he wasn’t surprised at it, because he knew he would fall for you, because every thought, sentence had to contain your name. even his parents were surprised about his babbling about you and every single thing you do. he spilled everything about you to his friends and parents. his parents knew every detail about you and chan’s father joked: „you should marry them, if you keep talking about them nonstop.” chan looked at his father flustered and hid his face in his hands. he ran upstairs and hid his face in the pillow, fanboying at the thought. his heart raced a thousand miles per second, his face couldn’t stop blushing.

he just liked loved you so much.

19th august 2018

he asked you out on a park date. you were uncontrollably nervous over the way you dressed and looked that day. he drove with the car to your apartment and waited for you at your door patiently, trying not to rush you with your make up and dress. once you have opened the door for him, looking prettier than ever to him, you quickly ran to grab your purse and phone and keys to lock your lonely apartment. the sound of locking your door played in your ears. everything around you was so magnificent, you felt like you were on cloud 9, he opened the door for you and he was a total gentleman with your throughout the whole exciting day. you two hid between trees, ran around the park and once the sun fell, you laid in the grass, exposing the feelings that grew in your hearts to each other, loving each others presence in this night, filled with shiny stars. you stood up and ran to his car, laughing and singing your lungs out, while heading to your home. chan offered you to sleep at his, so you wouldn’t feel lonely, since living alone makes you more lonely than the term lonely can describe. you hesitated, but then he simply said: „as you say, my girl.”

»i put you on top, i claimed you so proud and openly«

the nickname he gave you caused your heart beat a thousand miles per hour and your cheeks flushed with a red blush, that made your pale face look more attractive in the car, lightened up by the dim streetlights. he pulled over to your house and looked at you, as if you were the only girl in his life. he leaned in, his lips inches away from yours, his mint-like breath hitting your skin, and you leaned in to kiss him gently. the kiss quickly became heated and everything became foggy for you. your eyes started to lose it’s focus, because he truly made you feel high and overdrive on emotions.

he was your first kiss. your first kiss was from him. he was the first guy, that ever made you feel like this. you fell for him. hard.

23rd september 2018

school has started days ago and everything that was on your mind was him. he was 2 years higher than you were, because he was older and taller. you were short when you stood next to him. he was in the hall, talking with his friends while his eyes shot you small glances time from time. chan then walked to you happily, wrapping his muscular veiny arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. „i love you.”

that small actions he did, that small whisper that left his luscious kiss made you dizzy. you felt so many overflowing emotions, so no matter how much he would take, you would be overflowing. that’s it. you are drawn to him more than any girl in the school could ever be. the girls looked at you jealously, because you dated the hottest guy in school, that was the ideal type of many girl’s hearts. he was sporty, handsome, he had good grades, caring, perfect husband material. he was everything you ever needed and everything you ever had. he was your everything. without him you were in utopia, you were nothing without him.

you held him close to you and played with his hair, that changed it’s colour that fit him better than those before did. he looks good in everything honestly. even the matching hoodies you two bought in new yorker around the end of august. you loved his scent, because it was pretty captivating, it attracted anyone, because it smelled so mysterious yet so perfect. you dug your face in his broad chest, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and picking you up. he spun you around and kissed you deeply in front of the whole school in the main hall, where everyone saw your public affection, that made girls’ hearts ache in jealousy. they somehow pitied themselves for not having such a caring boyfriend like chan was. nevertheless, he was yours and you were happy to be with him. he was your euphoria.

3rd october 2018

3rd october 1997. he was 21 years old today. your love had his birthday on this day. it was a sunny wednesday and after school you ran home to change into cute clothes for his birthday party, for which he has invited his 8 best guy friends and you. his mother also invited his relatives. you were very nervous about meeting his parents and chan introduced you to his friends and relatives as his girlfriend, which made you look at him with seen surprise in your coloured orbs. he looked down at you and smiled brighter than the sun, his teeth shinning brighter than the sun itself. you thought, that the sun might lose its job of keeping the universe in place, because of chan. chan truly is the sun. he is your sun. he holds your universe in place. without him everything would collapse like a house of cards. he put his fingers under your chin and leaned in, closing the gap between yours and his lips. your lips gently moved in sync with his, but he pulled away before you thought he would. you wanted this kiss to last a bit longer.

your mother called for chan and you watched him distance himself slowly from you to move to the kitchen to help his mother with some work. you sat down on the comfy leather white couch, on which the 9 of you sat: chan’s best friends and you. the red haired boy, whose name was apparently jeongin watched your actions closely, tilting his head a bit, when he saw you sighing and watching chan in the kitchen. one of the boys asked, how long have you two been dating. you replied with a spark in your eyes, feeling your heart burn with passion for the boy’s name that was mentioned. „45 days. we have been dating for 45 days.” the oldest of the boys commented, surprised at your answer: „have you been counting the days?” you fiddled with the ring you wore on your index finger, that was given from your mother when you left your home city for seoul. you nodded shyly as they giggled at your adorable blush.

chan joined and sat next to you, putting his hand on your thigh, gently massaging it. he put your legs over his lap. you rested on his clothed chest, which was covered with a black supreme t-shirt, that was a bit smaller than chan was, so it exposed his abs just a little. when he stretched a bit, you saw his perfectly built muscles and you weren’t surprised. he was an athlete after all. he had at least 20 medals from just swimming. you adored the hard work he put in training to win those medals. you adored his hard work in general. he was just perfect. you two were imperfectly perfect. you two fit like puzzles. you two were soulmates. or so.. you thought.

17th november 2018

exams were pilling up making you bussier than usually and you didn’t find time to talk much to your friends and lover. after all they probably were busy too with school and needed time for themselves. it’d be rude and impolite if you kept bothering them and stealing their time. so you went to school’s library in the morning to read some books and there he was, his beautiful curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes focused on the book you read not so long ago. it was a beautiful sight that you wanted to imprint in your mind forever. you smiled and backhugged him, making his eyes turn to meet yours and you were happy to see him. he smiled back at you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to sit next to him closer. he loved your presence and you loved his. everything seemed so perfect. it’d be perfect if time would just stop and everything would freeze, except you two. it would always be you two. no one and nothing else could split you two apart. not even the universe. you were smiling brightly at his eyes, which claimed you as his. you wanted to stay like this forever, in his arms, his lips close to your ear, whispering sweet love poetry from books inside it. you imagined a fairy tale scenario, that made even princesses in stories for children jealous. you were perfect examples of perfect dreamlike love. but will it last? you hoped. you prayed. you loved him too much to let him go. he was your everything. you imagined everything with him. the wedding, family, everything. you made little scenarios in your head that could make a perfect story. a perfect cliche story.

when your first class started, you didn’t even pay attention to the teacher babbling about the topic you were supposed to learn in this lesson. you doodled pictures of chan and written his name in your notebook at least a thousand times. you were so deeply in love with him. your hair fell on your face and you fixed it quickly, shy if anyone saw your drawings. you erased chan’s name off the page and you slightly tore the page, a small curse escaping your lips. throughout the day, you paid attention to chan’s features that kept playing in your mind like a broken record on the radio. you drew his face in your book and when you made a slight mistake, you erased the whole drawing. then you started again and erased it again and it was like a circle. you can’t take him off your mind anymore. he is stuck to your heart.

1st december 2018

»when times were rough, i made sure, i held you close to me«

you were absent from school due to sickness. you were lacking and the results on your exams, weren’t surprising you honestly. you failed most of your classes and chan was no help. chan started distancing himself from you for no reason – or so you thought. to him, you were a distraction, a pit stop, which he used for thinking deeply about his actions and life. he knew and was aware of his selfish actions, but he wasn’t aware of your feelings for him. you felt like suffocating without him. he was your air.

after around 3 days of ignoring you, he drove to your house. once he was inside, he never let go of you and you held him tightly. you whispered sweet nothings to him, while he just nodded, dozing off. he started thinking, if he should stop leading you on. he tried breaking up with you in september, since his feelings for you lasted nearly a week. then he stopped loving you. you were a good distraction though. you were funny, intelligent, but i guess the second half of the year just wasn’t made for you. you walked a path filled with thorns his smile caused. you grew flowers in your lungs that caused you to choke on air. those thorns of roses tore your lungs apart, leaving you aching for air. that is exactly what he made you feel. when he left, he left you impatient for more of his love. you drank his love like alcohol.

christmas was on the corner and chan was going to spent it with his parents. he made an excuse that he couldn’t invite you, which made you feel worse than you already were. your depression was bad, you felt more and more depressed, but chan was your only saviour. he was your everything after all. no words could describe how much you felt fort he boy. you loved to remember the start of this friendship and then the relationship. it made your chest flutter with a bit of hope, your eyes watered slightly at the happy memories that you played in your mind like a movie or a song that you were stuck on. you couldn’t get him out of your mind and it was unbelievable of his small gestures, causing your mind go numb and heart on overdrive.

7th december 2018

you wished it would snow soon. you imagined small white snowflakes melting on chan’s pale cheeks. you would kiss those so many times, as he would swing you around, while snow would fall to the floor slowly, you two dancing and singing, when you two would suddendly end up on the floor, snow covering your backs, making them wet. but you two wouldn’t care, because of the quality time spent together with each other. you two would make angel figures in the snow and even write your autograph in the snow, laughing and running around, chasing each other.

there was a snap of fingers right in front of your face, made by your teacher, that seemed annoyed by your ignorance to her question. your classmates giggled and your cheeks flushed with red, your eyes looking around the classroom, searching for a spot to lay them on to not look at your teacher. she repeated her question in annoying tone, to which you replied quickly. she turned away and walked to her desk, standing between the board and the chair, hesitating to sit down to solve the question she asked you. you kept looking out of the window, your head resting on your hand, daydreaming more.

the minutes kept passing, your school day was over and when you saw chan running towards you, all sweaty and breathy, you were surprised at his state. words didn’t roll of his lips, they ran from those pink lips like a rap in a song: „wanna go to the clothing shop today?” you looked at him in surprise, your cheek burning hot as your head moves up and down, nodding to his rushed question. „okay, i’ll pick you up at 4” you smiled and looked at him, giggly. he smiled back and for a moment you thought, maybe everything will be okay after all.

you walked home quickly, not wanting to be unprepared for this small shoping date you two had together after a long time. you put on one of your warmest sweaters, because it was cold outside, along with the blue pair of jeans he loves. you grabbed an apple to eat something after school’s lunch. your bell suddenly rang and you jumped a bit at the loud sound. you opened the door, prepared for the moments, you two would spend together. you kissed his lips gently and grabbed your keys to lock the door to your apartment, him already opening the car door for you. you walked to the car slowly, appreciating his beauty. you got in the car and soon after, you two were both in the car, driving to the biggest shopping centre in the town. you sang along to the song that echoed in the car from the radio, you getting his glances from the side. he smiled at you and parked the car in a free parking lot. you two undid your belts and got out of car, holding your hands while walking to the shop.

once you got in, you gasped at the huge hall that lead to many shops. you couldn’t believe your eyes. you grabbed chan’s hand and ran to the shop on the left, where you walked around, admiring clothing pieces. chan’s eyes wandered around the shop, until he saw a big hoodie, that matched with a woman hoodie. he tapped your shoulder and you looked at the two clothing pieces he held in his hands. you laughed and pecked his cheek.„ i’ll try the hoodie on,” you smiled at him as your legs slowly walked to the dressing rooms, undressing yourself off the top, pulling the hoodie over your head on your body. you got ut the same time chan got out and your eyes looked at the silhouette in front of you. the hoodie fit him well, you thought to yourself a bit too loudly, so he heard your mumble. he complimented you back, your cheeks blushing at his words: „you’re so gorgeous, babe.” chan paid for he hoodies, while your feet jumped a bit from the floor, too happy to be with him.

chan held you by your waist, wandering around the big centre, but you two didn’t buy much anymore. you got the hoodies and a couple of shirts, then you got out of the centre, walking over to the car, stuffing all the bags in the back. chan kissed you deeply, before starting the car, but you deepened the kiss, wanting it to last longer. his tongue slid in your mouth and you two almost started making out, but you pulled away, whispering: „we’re in public, you know that, chan?” his name rolled off your tongue with such ease and you blushed at the lack of space you shared with him. you sat back on your seat, putting on your belt and he started the car, driving you home. once you two were at your place, he grabbed the bags before you, so you had no chance to carry the bags inside by your own. you just unlocked the door and invited him for a drink and a meal, but he hesitated. „i love spending time with you, y/n.” you looked sincerely in his eyes: „i love spending time with you too.” he giggled and got up from the chair in the kitchen, walking to you, who stood at the doorframe. he kissed you deeply and his big hands cupped your cheeks, his lips moving in sync with yours. he pulled away, looking at the ground. „my parents will be home soon, so i should go home,” you pecked his lips, nodding in response. „it’s okay. i love you, channie.” gosh, he loved that nickname. it suited him so well.

he got home and laid on his bed, his bags from the shopping at the side of the bed, as he ran his hand through his hair. he didn’t know what to do anymore. or feel. he feels like he lost feelings for you. he wanted to earn those feelings back by inviting you to a shopping date, to which he knew you’d agree. he knew about your feelings, he knew about them so well, but he just didn’t know what to do anymore. he was stuck in his mind, thoughts raging through his mind. he suddendly felt hot, taking off the hoodie, feeling as his brain overheated and smoke got out of his ears. he washed his face in the bathroom and looked at his reflection. „do i love y/n?” he mumbled to the mirror, his eyes tracing the curves on the hoodie he bought. he didn’t know how he felt anymore. everything was so unclear to him.

what is this feeling? the question rang in his head contionusly.

13th december 2018

it was cold, rainy thursday, which you spent in bed for the whole day, reading books while chilling music was playing in the back, making soft mumbles leave your soft lips that were kissed so many times by just one boy. you had boyfriends before, but that was years ago, when you were a teenager. everything was different back then. the love seemed so blind, every lingering word that was mouthed seemed so.. immature and unreasonable to you now. the teenager, you were obsessed with bands and youtube videos and sometimes you even watched a cartoon with your younger siblings.

your legs were swinging, while you lay on your tummy, flipping the pages, filled with words that your eyes met and your mind read. your brain slowly processed the book’s story, when suddenly your phone rang with your your favourite song as your ring tone. you groaned and grabbed your phone, seeing that your best friend lily was calling. you smiled weakly, still tired of the heartache that your overthinking brain caused. you slid your finger on the screen, answering the impatient call of your friend. she switched the call setting to the video call and you had no other choice than to accept the video request. her dark hair that fell perfectly on her shoulders was fixed back behind her ear with a simple gesture that could send many guys crazy and make them fall head over heels for her.

she greeted you happily, while you just waved back rather unexpected and sad. she sensed the tension inside your head by reading your expression quickly. she asked you about your emotional state and you didn’t know how to answer her expected yet surprising question. you just mumbled a „i’m fine. lily, don’t worry about me.” she responded sharply, her voice worried and cold, because she felt like you ignored her, because of your boyfriend. „you changed.” you looked at her brown eyes, that shone with small tears pooling inside of them. the lights reflected and made small galaxies appear in her eyes, which made you smile weakly. your head cocked to the side in confusion and your lips tried to form a reply, but your brain just shut itself off from so many thoughts wilding inside of your head like a tornado.

before you could say anything, she continued „i think he changed you. you aren’t the same. the weak smile says everything. your eyes read a story that could tear hearts apart. you are scared of him leaving you for someone else, right?” you looked down and nodded, hoping she would end this topic that shook your heart and made it hurt even more. she didn’t stop just now „if you’re unhappy, leave him, y/n. your happiness is more important.” she said with an emphasizing spat while mouthing the word him, which made you think, if she hated him. you didn’t want a fight to start between you two, so you kept the thought deep inside of your black mind, filled with questions, but with no answers.

25th december 2018

»so call out my name, when i kiss you so gently«

you spent the christmas alone. completely alone. your parents couldn’t come, because they were caught up with some work, your brother was underage so he didn’t have his driving license, your friends were at a private party, you weren’t invited to and it tore your heart, that your one and only love wasn’t able to spend holidays with you. you absolutely hated the fact you were alone on your favourite holiday of the year. you understood that chan spent quality time with his family, but it saddened you the most, that he didn’t invite you. you wanted his presence. you wanted to watch the lightning of the street together and your eyes lingering on his soft masculine features, like his strong, tight jaw, his biceps, his soft plump lips that were often pink from his teeth digging into them. you wished his lips were on yours, pressing your back against a wall as he would slowly take you for his and his only.

some thoughts crossed your mind, that made you question his love for you. does he even love me? is there someone else? why is he ignoring me?

your lips trembled a bit and you doubted yourself, cursing your name for thinking bad about him. of course he loved you. he deeply cared for you. you cursed yourself endlessly, until your mind brightened at this sudden thought. i’m naive. i fell for a guy that i know for nearly 4 months. how can i be so naive? you hated yourself for falling for him so quickly, but boy it felt good. he made your heart warm and your knees melted while you were close to him. he truly took your heart and walked away with it. you hoped he would take good care of your heart. and did he?

2nd january 2019

»i want you to stay, even though you don’t want me«

one day before school and 2 days after the year started and you craved chan’s touch. he was like a star you couldn’t reach and his heart was far away from your hands. you wanted to love him, but he wasn’t capable of loving you back. he just needed to think. and the holidays gave him the time to think. he needed to stop this, before he hurts you more than you already were. he knew your heart got stolen by him, he knew his actions that were so sincere yet so fake. he cared, he truly did, but he couldn’t lead you on. he got hurt from this too. he hurt while watching you get hurt from holding the knife, he stabbed to your chest contionously, not caring about your aftermath.

the next day in school was worse than hell. you got ignored by chan more and his ignorance got the worst of you. you ran to the restroom and cried for half of the lesson. you ignored anyone who knocked on the locked door of the toilet, you ignored anyone that came close to you. if it was chan, you would have answered. but he ignored you. he doesn’t care about you, were the words that repeated in your head countless of times. you said those words on a daily basis around 10 times.

once you got up and unlocked the toilet door, ignoring every stare from the girls you got, you painfuly slowly walked to the mirror, locking your eyes with the unknown person in it. you didn’t recognize it. it was an unknown reflection of a person you used to know. who are you? are you y/n? what has he done to you? your thoughts were a mess and you couldn’t think properly. everything was ruining you slowly. you became a sudden wreck of tears over a simple thought that clouded your mind. he ruined you.

19th february 2019

»why can’t you wait, ‘til i fall out of love«

you two didn’t even celebrate the anniversary together. your lovely messaged got ignored. your invitation was ignored, because you were left on seen. you were at the point of another pointless breakdown that would be silenced by your wet pillow. the last month has been one big of an emotional wreck for you. you and chan didn’t talk much and you hated the fact that everything was messy. your relationship has become a mess in the last few months and you questioned how long could you hold on this wreck. you were hurting. it was seen in your eyes, your body shape, you lost weight. you haven’t slept in days. you lost the track of school exams and at this point you failed all your classes. the first semester has ended and you were failing in the second one. you didn’t think you could get to this point of not caring at all. you lost every motivation to talk to someone, you had a big fight with your best friend and everything went downhill for you.

the next day in school was the worst. you were given weird glances from your big change in behavior and physical appearance. chan looked at you in pity and he walked painfully slowly behind you and asked you quietly if you two can talk somewhere private. you nodded weakly, not ready to respond to his words and not knowing what will come next. your knees were weak and you would be lying if you said you weren’t trembling, feeling another breakdown kick in. you tried your best to hold yourself together and surprisingly you did. you didn’t whimper or let out a crying sound. you just locked your locker and left for your next class, leaving chan sighing there as he was watching you leave, not bothering to kiss him or say a word to him. he was speechless and surprised at your sudden change. he hated seeing you hurt. and in these last few months he was hurting you pretty bad. he knows he hurt you. he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. he left the question in his head unanswered.

does she deserve this?

after classes you two met up in the school gym, sitting on the stairs, playing with your ring and looking at the floor, leaving chan unnoticed when he walked inside of it. he looked at you and sat next to you. he cupped your hands in his and you looked at him teary eyed. he sighed and looked at your intertwined hands, saying while dozing off: „we should break up. it’s not you. it’s me. i just lost all my feelings for you. i don’t want to lead you on anymore.” tears escaped your eyes and you sobbed, while he looked at you helplessly, wishing he took those words back. „i’m sorry, you deserve someone better than me.”

is he dumb? is he acting dumb? you couldn’t believe it. that’s why you were ignored for so long. that’s why he was dozing off at his birthday party. that’s why he didn’t invite you to his home on holidays. every little thing you made for him was not seen in his room anymore. he stopped sending you hearts through messages. he removed the heart from your contact name. you weren’t surprised. you knew this was coming. everything was crystal clear now. he didn’t love you. he was just being a nice guy, seeing you were struggling in school. you already had so many issues out of school too, but he was the reason why your heart shattered. he was your first true love. he made you feel so many things. even at this moment, you felt so much, that you overflowed. tears ran down your cheeks, your breathing was unstable and you removed your hands from his, looking at him with red eyes. „did you even love me, christopher?” you said his name with a huff and you were mad at him for doing this to you. he shook his head and your heart wasn’t broken. it dust, that he blew in your face. your back was stabbed by your own lover.

he felt guilty. his throat was burning. he felt sick and tired from doing this to you. he wanted to turn back time and start everything from the start, making his heart restart, so he could love you like he used to. he hated his overthinking mind. he overthought every word he was going to say, but he didn’t think he would be asked this question out of any question he thought about. he looked down at his now lonely pale, veiny hands, tearing up too. he got a headache from the thoughts that were running in his head. he hated this. he hated overthinking. it made him go crazy. but this time, he was silent, calm, while he listened to your sobs that just couldn’t stop. your tears were stabbing his heart endlessly and tears rolled down his cheeks, cleaning his lying heart.

he stood up and left the gym, leaving you shattered with millions of pieces surrounding you. you didn’t know which piece to pick and to start with fresh, because honestly, you were left with nothing. he stole your heart and he broke it with a hammer right in front of you. you had several questions for him. you didn’t know what to think, feel or do. you were left alone. helpless. but you guess, you have to get used to being lonely from now on. you lost your one and only magnet, your happiness, your love. you lost him.

but more importantly you lost yourself in him.

13th march 2019

»I said I didn’t feel nothing baby, but I lied«

you stayed home since the break up. exams were pilling in and honestly you didn’t even care if you made the year. you stopped caring for anything. you just wanted this nightmare to end. these days you were only watching sad netflix shows and ate ice cream. you ignored every message, call from your family and friends. you would unlock your phone only if it was a sign of chan caring for you. but nothing came. you were alone like before you met him and you hated the emptiness he left in you. you need days, weeks, months, so you could move on from him. you loved him so much.

your house was a mess, you were a mess, everything was a mess, but you just let it fall apart like you are. you let every piece of happiness you had in yourself die slowly. you were falling apart. you couldn’t take it anymore. your dreams and scenarios of your future with him fell apart like a house of cards.

your hair was a mess, your eyes red and puffy from crying. you gave up on yourself. or so someone else could describe your state now. you laid on the couch and scrolled through pictures of chan and you happily smiling. it hurt a lot. you loved him deeply. at some point you were at ease, since he told you he wanted to break up with you, he didn’t go behind your back and straight up cheat on you. he knew he would hurt you deeply and he couldn’t do that to you or in general to anyone. no matter if he loved you, he couldn’t cause you that pain. that’s why everything ended with those words. he cared for you, that’s why he ended it. he didn’t want to find someone else and hurt you more. he saw your pain. he helped you through it. he eased your pain at some point. his presence made you feel at home.

but now you needed to find a new home. you needed to find yourself. and you were going to. you will find yourself. every day you will search for yourself in actions you do, someone else’s actions, books, everywhere. you will search for the one that felt full of happiness, but now is filled with numbness. you will find yourself one day.

25th april 2019

» i almost cut a piece of myself for your life«

moving on was harder than you thought. you saw the familiar face you used to kiss everyday in the halls, his smile fading and his face looking down when he noticed you. you thought this was a normal reaction of his to a just ruined relationship. you teared up slightly at the thought of him pitying you. you ran to the bathroom, crying your heart out and then collecting yourself, breathing deeply, tears kept streaming down your pale cheeks with beautiful freckles on them. you hoped this pain would end. and through time, you believed it would. one day, you hoped, you’d wake up with no pain, no breakdowns aboard, nothing. you hoped to see the smile you used to wear on your face everyday without faking it.

you deleted all his pictures of him and deleted every conversation you held with him. you didn’t want to hold the memories. you wanted to forget it and look at him with heart eyes. you wanted to have him as a friend in your life. you want these feelings to fade and delete them from your memory and heart. you want to look at him like any other person. and slowly you started to reach that point. through time you slowly found yourself in books as characters, as sentences someone said, you found yourself in the actions you have never tried before. you started painting and for the first time you tried it, it was a total disaster. the room had paint all over the floor, you accidentally spilled the coloured water in which you cleaned the colours of the brushes. the painting was filled with many shades of warm colours and it made you proud. when you realised the mess you had in the living room, where you painted and the bathroom, where you cleaned everything, you groaned in annoyance. the painting was a vase, full of flowers, placed on a table in a white room, that was brightened up by the sun’s blinding shines.

you started reading books more often and they put so much comfort to you. you felt as if you were closer to books than people. you giggled at yourself, while reading a book, that used funny comparisons between characters of a role in the book and things. you finished the book in around 2 hours and it consisted of 212 pages. it was a beautiful book. it made you fall in love with the story. you were so happy about the book, that you made a whole presentation for it in school. you were talking about the book so happily, that your happiness radiated so much energy to the listeners in your native language class, that they listened to you for whole 15 minutes. you took a deep breath, when you finished talking and the teacher looked at you in shock, that literally surprised her. she was speechless. she clapped and the whole class stood up and clapped fort his presentation. you were smiling and blushing a dark shade of red. that was the first time after so much unreasonable pain.

16th may 2019

»guess i was just a pitstop, 'til you made up your mind«

you were so caught up in fixing your grades and exams, that you totally forgot about chan. in halls, you didn’t even notice him and when he walked up to you, waving you, you didn’t even realize him. you were so caught up in the book you borrowed a while ago. then he sat next to you and you looked at him, his eyes meeting his in a quick moment, before your cheeks flushing up. he smiled softly at your features being close to you, but you stayed silent. he finally broke off the silence with a cheerful „hello!” that made your heart shake a bit again. you greeted him back and he held your hands in his, to which you quickly removed them. he looked down and he understood why you ruined the intimate action. you wanted to be friends, no more than that.

you loved him still, but you didn’t want to have anything serious with him anymore. every string and connection between you two was cut strictly, because you don’t want to be haunted by the memories. you know he wanted to keep a friendship with you, but everything was awkward. the conversation was filled with unbearable silence, that made you stand up and look in his eyes, apologizing that you need to go to class. he fiddled with his fingers, like you used to. you walked away and this time he felt like his chest was being torn apart. you walked off silently, without having the need to run back to him and kiss him tightly. he felt like he lost someone, whom he deeply cared for, but he realised he didn’t show it much to you. that’s why you don’t show the same thing to him anymore, you moved on. you don’t have feelings for him anymore, but you never realised that. you just stopped feeling the pain all of a sudden and it made you feel better and stronger. you didn’t give up.

14th june 2019

»you just wasted my time.«

it was the last day of school and you were very excited to get your acknowledgements and you couldn’t wait to go home and celebrate with your family for making the year successfully, no matter the grades you got from absence in class. you were happy, when you walked to the principal, getting your acknowledgements and them congratulating you for your hard work. you took a photo with the principal and you smiled, heading to your seat, one boy tapping your shoulder shyly. you recognized him as jisung from chan’s birthday party and the other 7 boys sat next to him. they congratulated you for your hard work, but only one of them, seemed very down and that was chan.

he missed you a lot and he couldn’t imagine being without you. he seemed so sad at the time and sadly he was the last year in the school, before he will head out to work in the music industry as he expressed he would on his birthday party. you would be happy to see him on stage one day, singing his heart out and dancing, if he would learn of course. he watched you with a sad expression, probably regretting he let you go in such a way. and now here you are, happy and smiling while talking cheerfully with one of his friends. the other nodded and listened to your voice echo in their ears, which was like music to chan’s. he loved your voice. but he just realised that too late. he looked at you and said out of no where: „can we talk later, y/n?” his eyes were begging for a talk with you and you just couldn’t resist him.

after the ending speech of the principal ended, the whole school was free to go home, but chan took you to the cafe, where you two met. you hummed a song and he watched you silently. he then broke the silence: „what do you wanna drink?” you replied with: „my favourite drink” to which he giggled and ordered himself a coffee and you your favourite drink, that made your chest warm up, no matter the cold atmosphere outside. he sat down, opposite of you, holding your drink and his. he handed you your drink and you took a sip of it. „so how are you?” you asked him and he replied: „i’m good, you?” he resisted himself from calling you baby, because that was just past and he didn’t wanted you to think he wanted to lead you on. you replied, that you’re happy about school ending and you two giggled at the same time. you looked at him and smiled: „i missed your company, chris.” he gave you the iconic dimple smile, he flashed you on the halls, saying: „i missed you.” you smiled at that and maybe after all, everything would be fine. you two could be friends. you didn’t feel the urge to kiss him or anything. you just wanted his company. you wanted his scent to fill your lungs up.

you found yourself again. that’s all that mattered now.

you were truly happy.

and everything was just before you two became a thing. you two became best friends, hanging out every day, going to the cinema or taking berry on a walk, sitting on the balcony of your bathroom, watching the stars at night or just talking about things that crossed your mind. no feelings involved.

maybe everything will be okay now, since you are yourself.

notes: i’m truly sorry, if this work is very badly written, so i would like feedback and thoughts about it. i hope you enjoyed reading this mess of emotions. i got inspired for writting this fanfiction, when i heard the weeknd’s call out my name, which made me think of this scenario. the dates are made up, so you can imagine the time, when something happened. i hope this isn’t such a mess. this took me so many hours to write without a corrector of the text, so if there are any grammar mistakes, i’m truly sorry. :((

#bang chan #christopher bang #bang chan angst #bang chan fluff #bang chan sad #kim woojin #lee minho #leeknow #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #i.n #stray kids #stray kids angst

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obsessed-withthe-hales · 6 years ago

Text

History Part 9

Author’s Note: Oh my goodness, it has been a long time since I’ve written an author’s note! I know it’s also been a really long time since I’ve written anything, especially for this story. But! I really hope you guys like this and I’m really hoping to continue this series and see it to completion. So, please, let me know what you think about this part!!!

Warnings: Language; adulty implications

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

Four dates in three weeks. A handful of phone calls. Several long texting conversations.

And I still didn’t know whether to call this thing with Parrish officially ‘dating’ yet.

The first time we went out, I felt like I laughed the entire time. When I wasn’t laughing, I was smiling and blushing at the sweet compliments and easy politeness he offered. That dopey grin stayed on my face all night and followed me into the next morning. It was accompanied by several butterflies when I received sweet ‘good morning beautiful’ and ‘I had a great time last night’ texts from Jordan. It was only a couple days after and a few more text messages that I was calling, and we were setting up our second date.

After the second, which had been ice cream and a movie in the park, we were shyly holding hands on the walk back to my apartment, all while I wore that same cheesy smile. When he dropped me off at my door, Jordan had wrapped me in a goodbye hug that ever so slowly led to a tender goodnight kiss. That night, I was doing more than just grinning like an idiot in my bed, finally letting my thoughts wander to a different pair of green eyes than usually starred in my late-night fantasies.

Our usual texts commenced through the week until Thursday when I decided to be spontaneous and surprise Jordan with lunch at the station. My ever-smiling face and hands full of Chinese take-out were met with the happiest expression I had seen on his face yet. I knew in that moment it was something I would aim to see again and again. This time there was a small good-to-see-you peck on the lips and a slightly longer parting kiss. More butterflies took to the metaphorical skies.

Now, here we were after date number four, standing outside my apartment after a game of laser tag that I had lost miserably in (although I reminded him several times that he had an unfair advantage being a cop and an Army veteran) and dinner at my favorite local burger and shakes diner.

“I had a really great time tonight,” I said, mentally berating myself for the stupid cliché phrase.

“I did, too,” Jordan replied smiling down at me with those beautiful lips. With one hand on my hip, he leaned down and placed a gentle goodnight peck on my cheek. Ever the gentleman. Thoughts were running through my head a million miles an hour and I barely had time to register that my mouth was speaking before the question was already out.

“Do you wanna come in for a cup of coffee? Maybe?” My body fidgeted waiting for his reply. Parrish blinked a few times as if caught off guard, but then grinned politely.

“Yeah, sure.” Turning toward my apartment door to unlock it, I couldn’t help but my bite lip in anticipation. There were those butterflies again, soaring rampantly in my stomach. This was all still so new and exciting, and about to be even MORE new and MORE exciting, a feeling so in contrast with the familiarity and comfort of being with Derek.

I led the way into my place, placing my keys on the table as Jordan removed his jacket and looked around with interest. Suddenly I was self-conscious about my living space. Did I clean up the kitchen or is there a massive pile of disgusting dishes in the sink? Oh god, when was the last time I did laundry?! Shit that blanket isn’t folded-

“This is a really nice place,” Jordan’s voice said, breaking me out of my anxious spiral.

“Oh yeah, thanks.” I offered a relieved smile, steeling myself. Taking a step toward him, my smile turned flirtatious as I tried to transition into a sexier mood. Rising on my tip-toes, I kissed Jordan sweetly, starting off slow and gentle, then gradually running my hands up his chest to pull him closer. Parrish responded in kind, one hand resting on my back and the other against my hip as he kissed back happily. Once we came up for air, neither of us could help but smile.

“So,” he began as I reached to lace our fingers. “Would you like me to put the coffee on and maybe we can watch a movie or something?”

The grin immediately dropped from my face to be replaced by a look of confusion and shock. All the while Jordan was looking at me with polite expectance, waiting for an answer.

“I- what?” Now it was his turn to be confused.

“You asked if I wanted to come in for coffee. I thought maybe we could watch something with it? We definitely don’t have to, I just thought-“

“Jordan,” I interrupted, dropping his hand and taking a step back. “I invited you in for coffee.” Emphasizing the word with air quotes didn’t seem to be helping him grasp what I was trying to get at as he kept staring at me with that confused expression. “You know, as in ‘wanna come inside and inspect my room’?” The confusion only got worse. “Sex, Parrish! I was inviting you in to have sex!”

“O- oh!” The realization that dawned made his green eyes go wide and cheeks turn pink enough to match his lips. “Oh my god, I- I’m so sorry! It just wasn’t…clicking, I-“

“We don’t have to,” I rushed out, face now probably just about as red as his and my hands fidgeting nervously. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer about that. It’s my bad, really-“

“No, Y/N, seriously it was just a misunderstanding. Not a big deal! It’s just…I don’t know, early? And I wasn’t getting it” he tried to assure me, but at his point I was beyond mortified.

“I just- I’m so sorry, I should have been more up front. We don’t have to do anything, you’re right it’s probably too early, I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with…” No matter how much I wanted the rambling to stop, it didn’t seem like I could control anything coming out of my mouth.

“Whoa, not comfortable?” Jordan interjected, hand raising in the air to stop me. “It is definitely NOT that I don’t want to sleep with you, because believe me…” His eyes scanned over me, making me flush even deeper. “I do.”

My mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out. There was an awkward pause and then laughter began to bubble out of me, followed shortly by a deep chuckle from Jordan. The tension finally broke and the atmosphere became lighthearted once again.

“Well, now that the moment is ruined…” I giggled. Jordan offered a full, toothy smile as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really am sorry for the- uh…misunderstanding.”

“So am I. Come here,” he said, pulling me into an innocent hug that I gladly returned. “Are you free next Friday? I could take you out again, maybe get some ice cream again or something. And I swear, the next time you invite me in for ‘coffee’, I won’t try to go into your kitchen looking for the coffee pot.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that as I buried my face in his solid chest.

“That sounds really good,” I agreed, finally looking up at him with a gentle smile.

“Great.” Brushing my hair behind my ear, Jordan leaned down and gave me a soft kiss. With that, we broke apart and he went to grab his coat. Even though the mood had been ruined, I couldn’t resist watching him walk toward the door for a moment before I followed to politely see him out. God, what a great ass. “I can feel you checking me out back there,” he called playfully over his shoulder.

“What? No, definitely not,” I half-heartedly countered, finally making it to the door and opening it for him. He turned and gave me one more of those beautiful smiles.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In an expected move, Jordan had me wrapped up in an intense kiss, his mouth pressing to mine, one hand tangled in my hair and my body pulled into his. It was a kiss that started hot and ended sweet, but still left me dazed, breathless, and more turned on than I’d like to admit. As he pulled away, he gave a final small wave and pulled the door closed after him. I was left standing there alone, staring at a blank door that I desperately wished he was on my side of. Snapping back to myself, I made an instant decision.

Wrenching open the door once again, I practically stumbled out into the hall.

“Hey Parrish!” I called once I had spotted him about to turn the corner. He turned around with a puzzled expression. I bit my lip and offered a wicked grin as his gorgeous green eyes locked with mine. “Wanna come in for some coffee?”

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richiefuckfacetozier · 7 years ago

Note

okay so richie and eddie are a couple but not really because they haven’t confessed. and in one drunken night eddie orders a very cheesy romantic something from amazon to their shared dorm room and doesn’t remember it in the morning. richie sees the order in eddie’s laptop from “things to buy for richie 💘” list and?? but he doesn’t say anything. and the things comes and eddies like who bought you that:://(( and richies like you did you idiot

LOVED THIS! And did it

Be My Boyfriend

Archive of our own

Eddie was going to kill Richie later but he was too happy to think about why he wanted to kill him. Oh wait, now he remembers…it is because he got him shitfaced drunk.

They were supposed to go to a party Mike, Bill, Ben, and Stanley were throwing in their suite tonight. Richie and Eddie did some pre-shots before going, except Richie kept challenging Eddie to have another shot until they were 6 shots in. Then Eddie wanted to just make out all night and things were going great with some light fondling with a hint of grinding. It was ruined when Beverly came knocking to grab Richie so they could go smoke.

Eddie did not go with them because he didn’t want to get crossfaded. He sat in their dorm room waiting for them to fetch him. His phone buzzed and he looked down at text messages from Stanley:

Stanley: Where are you?!

Eddie: rich anonf bev r smokin b ther soon

Stanley: Are you already drunk?

Eddie: Nooooooooooooo your drunkkk

Stanley: *you’re

Eddie: SHUTUP STANLEY YOUR NOT MY REAL MOM

Stanley: *you’re Eddie, please get to this party. No one else I know is here. Bill and Mike are busy and I am socially awkward!!

Eddie: Wait, I need to buy somethni on amazog

Stanley: The last time you bought something it was a disney princess shower curtain.

Eddie: Shhhhh I needed it

Stanley: Your dorm only has universal showers.

Eddie: And all da mens love showerin in the stall with disney ducking princesses fight me

Stanley: Please get here soon drunky.

Eddie hopped on his computer and started browsing through. His mind was floating but it kept landing on Richie. He wished they would become more than hookup buddies. As much as he enjoyed kissing him and other stuff, he really wanted to go on an actual date together. With no friends tagging along with them, to a nice restaurant or movie or both. If he was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to date Richie exclusively. He wished he had a boyfriend and for that boyfriend to be him.

Wow, he was feeling pretty pathetic now. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He was going to get Richie a gift from the list he had started a while ago. He opened his notes and scrolled through to the tab labeled “Things to buy for richie ❤️". His eyes flew through the list, which had gotten embarrassingly long, and landed on the perfect gift.

“I forgot about this one!” Eddie went back to Amazon and pressed that evil 1-click button immediately purchasing it.

The door opened and he slammed his computer down hurriedly. He spun in the chair to face Richie. He must have looked mortified because Richie smirked at him.

“You looking at porn without me?” Richie came over to him placed his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and straddled his lap.

“No!” Eddie shot back trying to restrain himself from touching Richie immediately. “I was buying something.”

He laughed swooping in to kiss him messily. Richie was definitely cross-faded because he immediately stuck his tongue into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie kissed him back finally putting his arms around Richie’s waist to bring him closer. Even these drunken messy kisses were giving him the worst butterflies.

Richie pulled away with a glazed expression. “The last time you bought something drunk on Amazon, you got us sushi pillows.”

“I needed them because they were comfy and I like sushi.”

“You didn’t remember that you bought them.”

“I don’t see where you are going with this.” Eddie started to pull Richie’s shirt off.

“Hey!” Came Beverly’s voice from the door. “Stop trying to do the nasty! Stanley is already pissed enough at us for being late.”

Richie huffed out in frustration. “Stanley can suck my -”

“Come on, let’s go.” Eddie laughed. Richie got off him and put his shirt back on.

“Eddie bought something on Amazon.” Richie told Beverly teasingly.

Beverly pinched Eddie’s cheek affectionately. “The last time you did that, you got those dog slippers that bark when you walk.”

“I needed slippers for when I don’t want to wear shoes!” Eddie insisted batting her hand away.

Richie and Eddie had slept until noon the next day. Eddie eventually untangled himself from Richie’s limbs to go shower.

“You should shower too.” Eddie said tapping Richie’s shoulder.

Richie buried his face deeper into the sushi roll pillow. “Is that an invitation?” He mumbled sleepily.

“No, we are meeting Mike for coffee soon to do homework. Get up Rich.” Eddie poked him in the side and he squirmed away laughing. Richie heard Eddie grab his shower caddy and leave the room.

Richie looked at his phone for a little bit until he could fully wake up. He squinted because he didn’t have his glasses on. The phone so close to his face it was almost touching his nose. There was an email from a girl in his class asking for notes on a project they were working on.

“Oh shit.” He got out of bed and plopped his glasses on his face. He went searching for his laptop then remembered he left it at the boy’s suite. “Double shit.”

He walked out of his dorm room in nothing but his boxers. As he walked down the co-ed hallway he received catcalls from every gender as he strode along. “Sorry, everyone this ass is for one guy.” Well, he wanted it to be for one guy. Eddie and him had never talked about being only with each other but Richie acted like they were until he was told otherwise.

He went into the bathroom where a couple people were showering in the different stalls. He saw Eddie’s towel and clothes outside the Disney Princess shower curtain the idiot bought when he was drunk. “Hey, Eds!” Eddie yelped in surprise.” Can I borrow your computer? I gotta look up something for class.”

“Fuck off, Richie! You know not to talk to me while I shower.” Eddie said harshly. A guy by the sink started laughing at the exchange.

“I thought that was just while you poop?” He mused.

“Go away!”

“But can I borrow your computer?”

“Oh my god. Yes. Jesus.”

Richie went back to their room. Eddie’s purple cased laptop sat on his desk charging. Richie plopped a drop of hand sanitizer on his hands to rub in. Last time he used Eddie’s laptop and didn’t use hand sanitizer, Eddie wouldn’t kiss him for a week as punishment.

He opened the laptop and waited for the password screen to pop up. He smirked to himself as he typed fuckoffrichie. His eyes went straight to an open notes document that said “Things to buy for richie ❤️".

He grinned at how long the list was and felt his cheeks heat up at Eddie’s thoughtfulness. Next to that on the screen was a recent purchases page on Amazon. Richie went to open another tab but his ADHD and curious mind would not allow him.

He looked at the order and laughed to himself. Eddie must have been so drunk last night to get him this. He heard the door open, so he quickly closed down the Amazon page and gift list.

“Are you going to change my password again?” Eddie demanded.

“Of course, but it won’t be too different from the one you have so it will be easy to remember.”

“What will it be?” Eddie came over smelling heavily of vanilla body wash. Then draped his arms around Richie’s torso.

“Fuckmerichie. Only one word changed.”

“You are a nightmare. Go shower!”

“Ok. Ok.” He got out of the chair smiling goofily at Eddie.

“What?” Eddie said reproachfully.

“You’re just really cute.” Then Richie kissed him gently. The kind of kiss that meant he wanted more than friendship. He cupped Eddie’s soft cheek, who in turn sighed sweetly. Eddie was clearly breathless when Richie pulled away leaning in to kiss him longer. This seemed further proof that Eddie did want more, they just needed to find the right moment to talk about it.

Three days later, the package arrived.

“Oh no…I did it again!” Eddie groaned ashamedly.

“What?” Richie jumped at the sudden appearance of Eddie. He had been lounging on his bed reading a scary novel.

“You ok?” Eddie asked concerned.

“Oh yeah. Stephen King is just a fucking genius who I both hate and love.”

Eddie nodded knowingly, “He killed off my favorite character in a book and I never forgave him for it.”

“So what did you get?” Richie asked reaching for the box. Eddie handed it to him.

“That’s the thing, I have no idea. I bought it drunk.” Eddie went to try and find scissors but there were none around. It ended up not mattering because Richie tore it open unceremoniously.

“I know what it is!” Richie beamed as he took out the item. “You definitely need this one!”

“How could you know…oh my god.” Eddie’s face immediately heated up at the wrapped package inside. “Richie, I am returning that.”

“No! It’s awesome!” Richie took out the boyfriend pillow Eddie had purchased. It was literally a pillow that hugged you like a significant other would. “There is a note too!”

Eddie yelled and tried to grab the note but was too slow. Richie’s eyes skimmed it quickly. He smiled at him and said, “Yes!”

Eddie snatched the note which read, “Richie, stop fucking around and just be my boyfriend.”

@sam-i-am2468 @ohheydatsme @slashpalooza

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #it fanfiction #Shannon writes

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bright-hao · 6 years ago

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soft bias tag

okay, its been ages since i did a tag on here!! but my hermanita @hocidi(or hijita now? since you call me mom?) tagged me to do this soft bias tag!

my ult is still minghao, but bc most of this is romantic stuff(and i dont really have a lot of romantic feelings for hao) i’m gonna do my other best boy, seungkwan

Who is your bias: Boo Seungkwan of Seventeen

What made you notice them: I always loved seungkwan, its so funny cause at first i used to be like “oh i wish seungkwan was my twin” and as time went on it was like “yes, seungkwan and i would be best friends we’d be a killer duo” but like...by the time boom boom era came around and he dyed his hair blond the first time? fuck dude, i knew i was in love. very specifically there’s one photo (here) that always comes to mind when i think about first falling head first for him, and well. now he’s my guy.

what’s your favorite thing about them: boy, everything! physically, i love his cheekbones/jaw combo, people really dont pay enough attention to his bone structure. and personality wise, i love his ability to just talk and command all the attention in a room if he wants to,especially because it’s not in a scary, authoritative way, and i feel it makes people comfortable while they also respect him and hold him in high esteem bc of it. I personally have a close relationship with words, so to see the abilities he has with just his everyday speech is...spectacular

who would initiate skinship more: i think both of us, but in different ways? i feel like i would initiate a lot of smaller touches, just so we can be in constant contact, and also id probably spend a lot of time thinking about something before i do it, but i feel like seungkwan would be like hey! let’s hug, and we’d...hug. he’d probably initiate bigger things, like hugging and hand holding, and it’d be more spontaneous for him.

who would hog the blankets more: i don’t really feel cold easily and tend to get warmer as the night goes on, so what might really happen is seungkwan will often wake up buried under all the blankets because i pushed them over to his side in the middle of the night

who would be more clingy: earlier on, it would be him, bc i dont let myself get overly attached to people, but maybe if we spend years together and i get used to him/his constant presence in my life, things might change

who would say I love you first: oooohhh this one’s tricky. if i feel like he’s still sorting through his feelings and commitments, i’ll wait for him to say it first, but if i feel sure about him and where his heart is at, i’ll say it as soon as possible. possibly way earlier than most people would. it’s not a big deal to me when the words drop(bc it’s really not about words anyway for me, its about proving it with your actions, and if he loves me i should know even without him saying it), but if it is for him then i guess i’d wait til he felt right about it. granted, i think the more open you are to begin with the faster seungkwan himself would open up, so maybe it’ll just be a toss up bc we’ll both already be on the same page.

who would be more easily flustered: i’m a confident gay, so like, it would definitely be me making him flustered as much as i can for fun.

What cuddling position would you two have: okay, so here’s what i’m thinking: he’s mostly on his back, however he’s comfy, and i’m curled up at his side with one leg thrown over him and he has one arm around/under me, and my head is either next to his on the pillow or on his shoulder (like this). we can reverse the positions too we’re flexible

which colors remind you of them and why: sunset colours!! i often call him my sunset boy, so sunset colours, and very specifically all shades of orange, make me think of him. they’re just...warm and sweet but also fiesty and bold colours which is...him in print.

which season would you like to spend with them: uhhh all of them for the rest of my life? Idk, I feel stupid answering this since I live in a tropical country but...mm, maybe the time period where it's not quite spring yet but it's not really winter anymore...like, imagine going on a road trip and you get to see the landscape change from white and snowy to bare for a little while and then everything blooms. gorgeous. i wanna do that with him. or maybe the summer season in the arctic where it’s light out 24 hours a day. or just mango season here in trinidad

who would bake cookies and who would steal the batter: seungkwan would probably make the decision for us to bake cookies together bc it’ll be a fun bonding experience or whatever, but he doesnt really know what he’s doing, so i have to give him all the instructions and explain everything to him, and then i let him struggle with all the dirty work and look on and occasionally snatch bits of the dough to ‘make sure it’s coming out right’

which one of you would make bad puns and how would the other react: i dont really do puns, so it’ll have to be him. he probably spends all his alone time trying to come up with them. over text, he might get a eye roll emoji or a ‘why are you like this’, in person i’d probably just ignore it completely and continue the conversation like it never happened. (which might make him pouty, but pouty seungkwan is adorable, so either way i win)

which one of you would nearly burn down the kitchen trying to microwave a poptart and who come to the rescue: i’m brown and poor poptarts have never been a thing in my house, so i suppose it’ll be me who screws up. wake up in the middle of the night hungry so i sneak into the kitchen as quiet as possible, not even turning on any lights, put the thing in the microwave for way longer than its supposed to be. when it explodes seungkwan runs outside half asleep bc he wants to know who got shot. he cleans the mess bc he loves me and tells me to leave the pop tart prep to him in the future.

who likes to lean over tall railings and who pulls them back: it would be me, adrenaline junkie and lover of risks and high places, leaning over the railing of a tall building like ‘omg, i could jump right now it would be like flying’ seungkwan would drag me away and probably sit me down and lecture me about it too

what would you watching a horror film with them be like: i would never watch a horror movie, lol. next question.

who would be the cheesy flirt and who would be the smooth flirt: i think we could both be cheesy when we wanted to, but maybe more him than me since he’s the king of cheese. flirting is one of my favourite pastimes, so i’d probably be a decently smooth flirt. as earlier mentioned, my greatest joy would be seeing him flustered and at a loss for words bc of just how smooth i am

who is more competitive: oh we are BOTH very competitive, it’s super fun when we’re playing a game or a sport and we’re on the same side and trying to crush the opponents, but i think we try to get on opposite teams bc its ten times more fun to try and beat each other. like just the thought of being better at him at something is already exhilarating to me ;;;)))))))

who would have to be given constant reminders: for tasks that are hard/uninteresting, i’ll have to have him remind me cause i’ll find 500 things that are more interesting to distract me when i just need to suck it up and get the thing done, and i’ll need the nudge. when it comes to just forgetting, i’ll probably have to remind him bc it totally slipped his mind.

who sends memes and who sends cute I miss you text at 3 am: he definitely sends the memes, im way too lazy to save them on my phone and then have to go looking for one that’s appropriate, that’s a lot of work. i’m happy to receive them though. and uhh...i wouldn’t send anyone a text like that at 3am and i wouldn’t like to receive one either, and i would tell him that. emotions get weird and warped at that hour, and i dont trust them on a regular basis, much less at 3 o’clock in the morning. i say, hold it in for now and if you still feel the same at 10am? then you go ahead and tell me you miss me. BUT if i get a message at 10am from seungkwan saying he misses me/loves me/is thinking of me? i would be on a cloud for the entire day.

this was really fun! my heart is warrrrrrrrrmmmm and ive been in soft stan mode for the past two days cause of it. so now i’m gonna tag @woozifi @minigum @mvpgyu @pabospoiler @seonyein @szrw @witchzi @yookik have fun friends!

#seungkwan #svt #ginger and honey #tag games

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imaginexmeintheuniverse · 7 years ago

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Promposal

@buyreputationbytaylorswift requested: "Female!reader ask MJ to the prom with the help of peter and ned"

Pairing: Michelle Jones x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1, 818

Summary: Asking Michelle to prom is not as easy as you thought it would be...

Tags: @coltcas

Masterlist

A/N: This is long overdue I'm sorry it took so long for me to complete this request but I think I'm finally getting over my writer's block so I hope you enjoy this!

You're not quite sure what you'd call your relationship with a certain mysterious, intellectual loner- who was ironically enough, one of your closest friends. Nothing was ever made official between the two of you, but it had certainly crossed over the platonic line. Everything always happened behind closed doors with you and Michelle.

You've wanted to ask her to be your girlfriend for so long now, but you also didn't want to ruin what you had by freaking her out. What you had now was good and you told yourself that knowing her, even if you were official, not much would change since she probably isn't a huge fan of PDA, but you're okay with that because neither are you. However, you couldn't continue lying to yourself and minimizing how strong your feelings for her had become; you're ready to take the next step and if she's not on the same page now, how were you guys going to remain friends at the very least, past graduation?

You don't want to force her into any commitments she's not ready for, so you think there's no harm in asking her to prom as the first step. Brainstorming for ideas, you research promposal videos online for inspiration, while keeping in mind what would be best suited for Michelle. She probably wouldn't want something too public or in-your-face, but you feel like she would secretly appreciate a grand gesture of some sort.

You've got it! You've a got a plan and you can hardly wait till the next day to ask her.

You barely slept. The excitement of it all was too much and you stayed up all night working on the banner. You weren't as good of an artist as MJ is, but you're pretty proud of your work.

You made a banner with a bunch of cute caricatures, much like she likes to draw, with a message scrawled on it asking her to prom. You're standing under where it hangs in the hallway, waiting for her to pass by on her way to her first class. Everything is set up exactly how you want it to and you see her down the hall, walking towards you. Before you can call out to her, you here a girl squeal in excitement.

"Oh my gosh! You did all this for me?!" The girl's boyfriend looks dumfounded as she launches herself into his arms. He doesn't have a chance to protest before she exclaims, "Yes, yes! I will go to prom with you!"

Everyone around you claps for the happy couple and you're left burying your face in your hands wondering how the hell that could've possibly gone wrong. You lift your face at the sound of a groaning Michelle standing next to you.

"I know," she says. "It's so cheesy I can't watch either."

You're left speechless and semi-broken hearted as she walks off to class. So that may have not worked out, but you're not ready to give up just yet.

It's game night and the squad is over. Peter took a night off from his double life and came with Ned right after the decathlon practice you all attended. Michelle had some' presidential' business to take care of afterwards, so she'll be joining a little later.

The pizza arrives right before you receive a text from MJ that she's on her way over. Perfect timing, you think to yourself. After checking the masterpiece of a pie you ordered and silently cheering that so far everything was going according to plan, you set it down on the kitchen counter. It has all of Michelle's favorite toppings and it's from her favorite pizza place in town- and you requested it in a heart shape, hoping it wouldn't be too cheesy.

Your promposal attempt with food this morning failed miserably. You had picked up a box of her favorite doughnuts on your way to school and decorated them with the letters to spell out 'PROM?' on them. They looked adorable, and food seemed like the perfect not-too-public way to ask Michelle to prom. However, just when you spotted her at a locker and made a beeline, you were knocked to the ground. Some kid who was carrying a giant model that obstructed his view had bumped into you and immediately started to apologize profusely after seeing what he had done. You let him know you were okay, dusted yourself off, and met MJ at her locker, glad the box of doughnuts didn't go flying when you fell. Unfortunately, the box was shaken up and the icing was smudged all over the place.

Despite this, you weren't ready to give up on food or asking Michelle to prom yet, so you figured third time's the charm and went with the pizza. You go retrieve your markers to write your message to her on the box, but you come back to the pizza to see it being devoured by two hungry teenage boys.

"Peter?! Ned?!" You shout incredulously, horror written all over your features.

"What?!" they ask in unison, mouths full with your promposal.

"Ugh, the universe is against me!" you cry out, looking up at the ceiling.

"We didn't eat all of it! We did leave some for you guys-" Ned says.

"W-We could order another one! On us!" Peter offers.

You know your best friends mean no harm; they're the sweetest guys on the planet, but boy were they oblivious. "That pizza was in a heart shape for a reason; I was going to ask Michelle to go to prom with me." They follow up with chorus of apologies which you accept and then shush them for when it becomes excessive. You worry all these failed attempts are a sign of some sort that you and her might not belong together, that you're not good enough for her. "It's all right guys, I don't think it was meant to be."

"No way!" Ned speaks up. "You two are most definitely meant to be! You're like Leia and Han!"

"Yeah," Peter chimes in. "You're like Sherlock and Watson; you two belong together."

"I don't know..." As much as you appreciate your friends' reassurance, the only opinion about your relationship that really matters is Michelle's.

"We'll make it up to you!" Ned exclaims. He and Peter share a glance and you're not sure whether or not you should deem it worrisome.

"Yeah and I know exactly how," Peter affirms.

You texted her to meet you in the workshop where you, Peter, and Ned like to take apart old electronics to build cool stuff, before academic decathlon practice. You're standing right under the masterpiece, admiring your hard work.

The three of you have been working non-stop the past two days on an LED sign with the coolest effects (courtesy of Ned), Michelle's name having never looked cooler. Specifying the person was important as you learned from your first trial- not that anyone but Peter and Ned would see this. You barely avoided yet another disaster when the sign almost fell onto your head, Peter coming to your rescue with his Spidey-strength and efficiently securing the sign to the wall with his web-shooter. Ned checks the status on the little robot you sent out to greet her, letting you know that she'll be here any second and Peter gets his camera ready to capture the whole thing.

It all happens so fast, you don't even seem to have time to blink before Michelle is standing right in front of you, more expressive than you've ever seen her in public. She stares at the scene in front of her with wide eyes and her jaw slack, lips slightly parted. Her focus shifts from the sign to lock eyes with you. All words leave you sounding like a bumbling idiot, not even directly asking her what you've been trying to ask her all week. "I- uh- well you know- you don't have to- only if you want to-" She cuts off your nervous babbling by gently grabbing your face with both hands and kissing you, leaving you wide-eyed and breathless. "I-Is that a yes?"

She rolls her eyes playfully and nods her head 'yes' before pulling you into another sweet kiss, which interrupted by Peter and Ned's 'awww's. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to ask?"

You're both surprised and extremely happy that she's been wanting you to ask her to prom but there was quite a bit of time left, in fact this was pretty early to do so. "W-Well, I've been trying to ask you to prom all week, but every plan I had kept failing." She raises an eyebrow as though to prompt you to elaborate. "Two days ago when I brought you the box of smushed doughnuts, the icing spelled it out, and then that evening I had ordered your favorite pizza in the shape of heart, but these fools," you eye Peter and Ned who have huge grins plastered on their faces. "They ate the pizza before you got there- A-And the banner in the hallway Monday, that was me- It was meant for you."

"Oh my..." A wave of realization washes over her features. "When I said it was cheesy- I would've loved it if it were for me- from you of course." A relived smile spreads across your face as she takes your hand in hers. "But the whole 'waiting for you to ask me' thing, I wasn't referring to prom..."

"Huh?" You're smile is replaced by a look of utter confusion, further warranted by Peter and Ned running out of the room laughing. You reluctantly turn around to see that they must have changed the words on the sign at the last second to read 'Michelle Jones, will you be my girlfriend? (and go to prom with me?)'

"I'm going to kill those two," you mutter under your breath and Michelle lets out a laugh. You are grateful that they did change the sign since that's what you've really been wanting to ask her; prom was trivial compared to how you felt about her, but it could have also gone horribly wrong.

You're ecstatic it went the way it did, because now you're walking to academic decathlon practice, hand-in-hand with your girlfriend.

*BONUS EPILOGUE*

You enter the practice, still holding hands with Michelle, to quite the scene. Everyone on the team is holding up protest signs, each decorated in various ways to ask you to prom. Michelle lets out a chuckle next to you. "I didn't know whether or not you'd ask me to prom, so I made a few preparations of my own."

"I like that one," you say, pointing to a sign that reads:

Can Y/N agree to go to prom MJ so I can put my arms down? I'm tired

She laughs again, before calling out, "Flash! Stop whining!"

#michelle jones #michelle #mj #michelle jones x reader #potatowrites #michelle jones imagine #mcu #michelle x reader #michelle imagine #mj x reader #mj imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #oneshot #spiderman: homecoming #Spider-Man: Homecoming #zendaya #zendaya coleman

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years ago

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Resource Management, pt3

Word Count: 2432 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses

One hundred and seventy three emails. There were 173 emails in my inbox on Monday morning. I cursed myself for trusting Erin that I didn’t need to check them. I filled my coffee cup and settled in for what was apparently going to be a really frantic and long morning. As I worked through the first fifty emails, I realized Erin really had been on top of most of everything, as I’d only had to deal with one issue. Mostly I was just filing the emails in the appropriate file. When my phone chimed, I barely heard it. It was buried in my purse, in the bottom drawer of my desk. It chimed a second time.

“Did you remember what we talked about on Friday? Turn the tables on Stark today.” It was Coulson.

“I like the idea of tazing him better.” I responded.

“That is also a good option. But do it in a sexy, over-the-top, camp villain way.”

“Camp villain?”

“Moose and Squirrel.” His response was almost instant. I couldn’t help it, I laughed out loud. My email pinged, bringing me back to reality. I scrolled to the bottom of the window to see what had arrived. It was from Tony Stark. I took a deep breath and opened the message. ‘The Stripper’ started blasting out of my speakers, and an animated gif of Stark himself, peeling off the Iron Man suit opened in fullscreen view. I had a 27” monitor. It was horrifying. And like a train wreck, I just couldn’t look away. When there was nothing left but Stark in a frighteningly tight pair of American flag briefs, the music faded, and was replaced by Stark’s voice. “Can’t wait to work with you this week, Ms. Ellis.”

“Good god. Save me,” I sighed. Coulson was right. I was going to have to out-sexy him. I popped the second button on my blouse reluctantly. I glanced at the clock and opted to work through my coffee break. By lunch, I’d dealt with the first hundred emails. After checking on my room booking for the seminar, I headed to the cafeteria to fuel myself up for the afternoon ahead of me. The special was grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, which reminded me so much of being a little kid that I jumped at it. I was just taking my first bite when Stark sat down across from me.

“Ms. Ellis. You look ravishing today,” he smiled. The man oozed charm and charisma, but having dealt with him so many times before, I knew better than to be lulled into complacency. I pulled out my heavy arsenal, blinking slowly, looking up through my lashes and smiling seductively at him.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Stark,” I murmured. His smile froze. Good, I’d caught him off-guard already. The next challenge was going to be eating a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in a way that could be seen as something other than revisiting my childhood. I reached for the pepper, well aware that my blouse was gaping and thus giving him an eyeful. The stunned silence was empowering.

“Will it just be you and I today? Because I can think of better places to discuss sex than a stuffy SHIELD seminar room.” He recovered finally, and his smile reminded me of a hungry lion’s.

“As tempting as the offer is, Mr. Stark, there are some new hires that will be joining us.” I made sure to draw out his name a much as I could. “Aren’t you eating?”

“I hadn’t made it that far. I saw you and had to come say hello,” he stammered. Ha! On the ropes!

“You should get something to eat. It’s a long afternoon, and there’s a lot of really active, close work,” I admonished. His eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly, as though he was maybe catching on to my game. Time to dial it back a little. I met his gaze and then let my eyes flick away as though he’d won the stare down. I made like I was checking my phone.

“I look forward to continuing this conversation over lunch. I don’t think I’ve been in a sexual harassment in the workplace seminar since you started teaching them. I have a lot of questions,” he winked and headed to the cafeteria line up. As soon as I saw him staring at the overhead menu, I collected my lunch and headed to the seminar room. There was no way I was going to be able to eat tomato soup without spilling it all down my cleavage and that wasn’t going to play into the sexpot myth very well. I shut the door behind me and ensure it was locked before tucking back into my lunch. Shortly before the hour, a key rattled in the lock and kitchen services rolled in a cart with a coffee pot and snacks. I handed off my dishes and headed to the restroom to brush my teeth, taking my tablet with me, but leaving the conference room door open so the employees taking the seminar could get in. Tomato soup breath and grilled cheese crumbs were also not going to help me turn the tables on Tony Stark. I checked my lipstick before heading back into class. I could hear laughter coming from the conference room as I approached it and could hear Stark telling jokes. I stopped to make sure my skirt was smooth, and my blouse was gaping just enough, fluffed my hair just a little and licked my lips. When I strode into the room, everyone fell silent and stood, except Stark. But they all stared.

I made my way to the front of the room, and sat on the table that was beside the podium, crossing my legs. The SHIELD employees had all stood when I’d entered, which was unsurprising given that they were all fresh from the academy. Stark was in the front row, slouched comfortably in his chair, tapping a pencil on the table in front of him.

“Please sit. My name is Anna Ellis, and I am the acting Human Resources manager for SHIELD. For those of you attending this seminar as part of orientation, welcome. Those of you who are attending because you’ve had an A2-336E filed, please listen this time so we won’t have this conversation again. And Mr. Stark,” I paused, “If you make it to ten, you get to come an eleventh time for free. And as a bonus gift, we’ll chemically castrate you. See me to have your card punched on Friday. It says here you’re up to seven visits already!”

Almost everyone snickered into their hands. Stark kept tapping his pencil on the table. I pushed myself up and uncrossed my legs to stand, leaned down in front of him, paused long enough that I saw his eyes stray to my open blouse and his eyes dilate before snatching the pencil and snapping it in half. I quirked an eyebrow in challenge at him and he looked away quickly.

“SHIELD has a long history as an equal opportunity employer. Our founding members included Agent Peggy Carter, and that was over seventy years ago, when women were being shuffled out of the workplace and back into the home after World War II. There has never been a time in SHIELD history when there haven’t been women in important leadership roles, and as such, it is considered to be exceptionally important that both men and women employed by SHIELD behave in a way that promotes a safe and tolerant work environment. There is a three strikes policy regarding sexual harassment, but Director Fury is currently overlooking a proposal to make it a zero-tolerance policy.” I paused and looked across the room. There were an equal number of men and women in the room, supporting my introduction. “Regardless of the outcome of that proposal, the current protocol for sexual harassment in the workplace once an A2-336E is received is that the incident is investigated, the individual is sent to this seminar, and upon completion, a note is made in their personnel file. Should there be two other incidents of misconduct that warrant attending this seminar, employment in terminated.”

A hand shot up at the back of the room.

“Yes? I’m sorry; we didn’t do introductions, did we? Please tell me your name, and then your question.”

“Andrew Abrams, ma’am. What are the parameters for an A2-336E?” He asked. I scanned for his name on my tablet. He was Operations.

“That’s an excellent question, Agent Abrams. Inappropriate touching is grounds for immediate termination, if the investigation supports the claimant. This seminar is intended for employees and consultants who are deemed rehabilitatable,” I explained. “Now, you might wonder what exactly inappropriate touching covers. If you aren’t invited to touch, it’s inappropriate. Period.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

I took a moment to do introductions. There were four agents from Operations, two from science, one from data analysis. Stark rose and faced the other attendees.

“Hi. I’m Tony Stark. You might know me as Iron Man. Or as one of the heroes of New York.” He pulled an Iron Man action figure from his pocket. “See? I have an action figure. I am a consultant for SHIELD, but also a member of the Avengers Initiative. I am here because I keep inviting SHIELD employees to inappropriately touch me. Isn’t that right, Ms. Ellis?”

“Shall I share your email from this morning, Mr. Stark?” I offered, wagging my tablet at him. He winked at me.

“That’s quite all right. If anyone would like to see what Ms. Ellis is talking about, I can give you a private show later. And Ms. Ellis, please. Call me Tony.” He leaned back on his table and looked over his shoulder at me. I had to resist rolling my eyes.

“I’d rather not, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t be fooled by Ms. Ellis’s youth and beauty, folks. She’s a powerful sorcerer from another realm. Completely resistant to charm, mine in particular. Has the heart of a librarian,” he announced. “You should always whisper around her.” He spoke in a stage whisper. This time I did roll my eyes.

“Enough, Tony.” I directed my eyes to his chair and he sat.

“See? Sorceress!” He whispered again.

The rest of the class plodded on. We watched a video that was cheesy in its antiquity. I’d requested funding to have it replaced with a more up-to-date film with more salient examples, but as yet had not received the funding approval. Then we delved into the actual sexual harassment policy. It was dry, and horrible, and boring. And I had three more afternoon sessions of very much the same to go. I decided to cut the class loose a little early.

“Okay gang. This was the worst day, I promise. I’m sure Mr. Stark can vouch for me. It’s 1545; we’re going to break for the day. I’ll see you all at 1300 tomorrow. If you have any questions, please feel free to pop by my office. HR is upstairs, first hall on the left off the elevators. Mine is the big office in the middle of the room.” I uncrossed my legs and slipped off the table, stretching a little. I was a little stiff from not doing anything, and the thought had not escaped me that I might have to continue to run, even when I wasn’t in training.

The new hires all bolted. One swung by the refreshments and grabbed a couple donuts before darting out the door, leaving Stark and me alone.

“Ms. Ellis. You are so much more enjoyable than your predecessor,” he smiled, and slouched back in his chair.

“Well, I am easier on the eyes,” I agreed.

“This is my point exactly. How hard is it to put a beautiful woman in charge of a sexual harassment seminar?” He asked.

“Well, I think the idea is to prevent sexual harassment, Tony. Not encourage it.” I walked around his table and leaned against it, uncomfortably close to him.

“Oh. Is that the idea? This maybe isn’t working then.” He sat up and reached into his suit jacket. He pulled out his phone and starting playing with it. “Is this your number, Ms. Ellis?” He turned his phone to face me. I nodded.

“You’re a man of so many talents,” I smiled.

“Then this is your address?” He flashed the phone at me again. I nodded again. “I’d like to take you out for drinks. I’ll pick you up at 9pm? That’s 2100, for you SHIELD types.”

“I thought you had a fiancé, Tony?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I said drinks, Ms. Ellis. Not marriage.” He stood up, and was so close I could feel his breath on my hair. I straightened up and he turned to leave. I touched his chest, where I was expecting the arc reactor to be.

“What happened here?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. He raised an eyebrow and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a scar.

“I found an amazing surgeon. Got the shrapnel out.” His voice took on a different quality. I pulled my hand back, my fingers curling instinctively to stop myself from touching it. It looked so much like Phil’s scar that I bit my lip to stop the tears that were filling my eyes. I dropped my hand to my chest.

“I can’t, uh, it wouldn’t,” I paused and sighed, “I don’t think it’s appropriate to meet you for drinks, Mr. Stark.”

“Because I no longer have the arc reactor in my chest? I’ve met some weird groupies before, but this takes the cake.” He buttoned his shirt back up.

“No, it’s the scar. It reminds me of someone. And I just –“

“You don’t happen to play the cello, do you?” He interrupted. I looked away, startled by the reference. Stark didn’t know Coulson was alive.

“Uh, no. Why?”

“No reason. I’ve only ever known one other person who had a wound in their heart. Your reaction made me think of him.” He slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket and buttoned it closed.

“We all miss Agent Coulson, Mr. Stark.” I couldn’t make eye contact with him. I was a terrible liar.

“You knew him.”

“We all did.” I flipped the cover on my tablet closed and turned to leave. He put his hand on my shoulder.

“You, ah, didn’t mean that part about chemical castration, did you?” He broke the somber mood. I smiled and shrugged.

“Didn’t I?” I winked and walked away.

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #Phil Coulson x OFC #tony stark demands a place in the story

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quiveringbunny · 8 years ago

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Red Square - Chapter 1 (Bratva Fic)

Привет! (Hi!)

I am excited to post the first chapter of Red Square, the fic I’ve been promising for ages. It draws from the characters we love and shakes up the circumstances quite a bit.

First, thanks for the encouragement I have had from @tinaday3w, who is the greatest (and most overqualified) beta I could ask for and the fabulous @mel-loves-all who has also taken time away from her writing to make me gorgeous cover art. And finally, thanks to darling @scu11y22 for her continued encouragement (i.e. regularly asking when it would be published). You'll notice smatterings of college Russian throughout and cheesy explanations at the ends of chapters where that happens. Note: This story will be at least an M, although the sexytimes won’t happen until at least Chapter 2.

One more bit of business. I have presumptuously tagged my MFM and WBW pals for this first chapter because I wanted you to see Mel’s cover art (including face and pretty. But I will only tag you on future chapters if you let me know you want to be on that list, okay?

Here is @mel-loves-all‘s glorious cover.

If you would prefer to read and comment on Ao3...HERE.

Red Square

Chapter 1.

Two men were killed in a shitty low-rise apartment near the oil processing plant in Kapotnya and their bodies would not be found. Bratva had mechanisms in place, people who took care of such matters. Just like they had people who did the killing. Oliver Queen was one of those people. In recent months, he had become a trusted enforcer of the will and whims of Anatoly Knyazev, a man whose life he had saved years earlier, and tonight his will had been for Oliver to take out Andrej Petrov and Yuri, whose last name Oliver had never learned.

Andrej had been a Капитан (captain) in Anatoly's organization up until Oliver plunged a knife into the man's ribs and whispered parting words from Anatoly about his fate being sealed when he decided to steal what didn't belong to him. Oliver delivered the message in passable Russian, which had improved over the past few months. Yuri was nobody, really. Just a goon who died, as he lived, in Andrej's shadow and also at the hands of the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood's only American member. He got no message beyond the bullet behind his ear.

As he sat in the back of an aging towncar heading back towards the center of Moscow, Oliver closed his eyes and let Petyr, the driver, navigate. Everyone in the organization had their job, after all. Oliver's just happened to be much different than driving and, if truth be known, it wasn't his only assignment.

He had infiltrated the Bratva at the behest of a little-known government agency called ARGUS. Once its director, Amanda Waller, learned that Oliver had an unexpected "in" with the criminal outfit, she had tasked him with renewing his relationship with Anatoly, for the purpose of learning more about their dealings. That was nearly six months prior and after multiple deaddrops of intel, Oliver had no instruction from Waller (via coded ads in the Pravda newspaper) in several weeks. Each day that passed took its toll on the Queen family's prodigal son, but today was worse. He had never felt less like a patriot and more like an irredeemable thug.

Near midnight, Oliver returned to the shabby brick building on Nikolskaya Ulitsa, not far from Red Square, where he spent most of his time. The bottom floor housed a bar that was Anatoly's base of operations and upstairs there were shabby apartments, one of which had been given to Oliver for his use.

He was anxious to get to his rooms. Not to sleep. He rarely got a restful night. He just wanted to be alone and decompress from the night. First a lukewarm shower (hot water was impossible to get in his room) and then a couple of swigs from the vodka bottle he kept on his nightstand. Since he couldn't afford to dull his wits or reflexes when he was surrounded by threatening circumstances, he avoided drinking when he was with other people. Unfortunately, before he could return to his peaceful quarters, he still needed to touch base with Anatoly.

"Oliver, my boy!" Anatoly approached Oliver and wrapped him in a practiced hug.

"Anatoly," Oliver accepted the man's embrace and was relieved when they separated. Anatoly signaled for him to sit down, so he sat in the chair across from his superior.

"I have word that you have completed business tonight. You were able to deliver the message for me?" Anatoly gave him a cold grin.

“Da,” Oliver responded. He tried to employ a bit of Russian language from time to time, just to be respectful and demonstrate he was trying. “it was delivered. The matter is finished, as you requested."

"Good, good. I knew you were the man for the job."

Oliver nodded and shifted in his chair, keen to be released for the evening.

"You know, Oliver, you have not been with us for very long, but you have already proven yourself invaluable to my business."

"I'm glad you think so," Oliver replied. Because if I wasn't, I would be dead, he thought.

"You carry out every task with precision and you are most reliable."

"I have learned much from you, Anatoly. The importance of discipline, efficiency and loyalty."

"Loyal, yes. But you are also smart. Strategic. And now I find that it is time to do some...what the American companies call...restructuring. I have need of a new captain and I have decided it will be you."

Shit. Oliver schooled his reaction carefully.

"Thank you very much, Anatoly for this honor." The sudden promotion was as much a curse as it was a compliment. Now he would have a higher profile in the Bratva, one that would give him access to more confidential matters, but he was also vaulting past scores of other men, dangerous ones, who had tenure and ambition.

Anatoly offered his hand and Oliver shook it with practiced sincerity, nodding his head at the end of the grasp.

"And now, Oliver, I have something special planned for you. You should always remember this night."

Oliver's curiosity was piqued. Anatoly had sociopathic tendencies and he had seen him turn on a dime. He watched the older man grin and wave someone over. Oliver hoped it wasn't someone he would have to fight. It had been a long night already. He was relieved when he realized a woman had joined them. He shifted in his seat and already began to turn on his charm before making eye contact with the black-haired beauty.

"Oliver, this is Katya."

"Hello, Katya," Oliver took the petite woman's small hand and placed a kiss on her knuckle. “Ochen preeyadna.”

The woman's blue eyes flashed at him and his breathing caught with recognition. She smiled softly. He perused her lasciviously, noticing she was dressed in a coat over black jeans and boots, an overnight bag at her feet. Not the typical look for a working girl in Moscow - the ones who emulated extras from old Robert Palmer videos.

"Oliver, Katya is going to take you upstairs now for your gift."

Anatoly had offered Oliver women before. There were a number of pros associated with the Bratva who were at his disposal, but Oliver didn't avail himself of their services or desperate attention. It would be even harder to deflect them now that he was becoming a captain. Latching onto a made man of rank all but assured a woman’s safety in the criminal world. He would have to tread carefully in the future to avoid getting stitched up. But this one was quite different and tonight he knew refusal could not be an option.

He quickly offered his boss a thank you and a wink.

"Upstairs then," he smirked towards the woman, eliciting a cocked eyebrow, followed by an upturn on her pouty lips.

Then, Oliver picked up the woman's bag and took her arm to lead her towards the back staircase. They climbed two flights up the narrow stairwell, wordlessly, then headed down a dark hallway until they reached Oliver's door. He grabbed the woman's shoulder, pulled her toward him and lowered his mouth to steal a hot kiss.

Was it really stealing if it was paid for?

He pressed her petite frame against the wooden door and didn't disengage from her mouth until he coaxed a whimper from her throat. She grasped his arms tightly. Apparently, she was no longer steady on her feet. Oliver fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door, then tugged her inside.

Oliver had no sooner dropped her bag when the door slammed shut. He locked it before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He kissed her, hard and long enough for her to become accustomed to him. When he felt her kiss him back, sliding her tongue against his own, he reached between them and pulled her coat off her shoulders, loosening it enough to let it fall away. He did the same with his own leather jacket. He tugged the hem of his worn oxford shirt loose from his pants as he leaned in to assault her skin with his lips, teeth, and rough beard.

Oliver buried his mouth in the hollow of her pale neck and then murmured quietly in her ear.

“Camera in the hallway. I don't know if this room is still clean. Might have been bugged while I was out today. Can you check?"

"Mmm hmm,” he heard her moan in return.

The woman ran her fingers through his hair. It was too long, longer than he usually wore it, but he liked the disguise of it. They kissed again until the woman gently pushed him away.

"Give me a minute to get ready. Then join me in the shower?" She spoke loud enough for a microphone to hear.

"Anything you say, Katya, or should I call you kotyonok? You're so soft." He practically purred. Katya moved away, picked up her bag, and then headed for the open bathroom door. She switched on the light, then shut it behind her.

As Oliver worked to open his shirt, he surveyed the room, looking to see if anything was out of place. He kept everything just so as a way to gauge whether or not his rooms had been entered or his minimal personal items tampered with in any way. He had learned to be paranoid because that was a good student of the Bratva. Bad students didn’t live very long.

When Oliver heard the water commence in the shower, he hung his jacket on the back of a chair. Then he unfastened his shoulder holster and removed the pistol from its cradle. Gun in hand, he slipped off his shoes, then headed into the bathroom.

///—>

For the first few months he was indentured to ARGUS, Oliver trained at their main facility - a secret bunker buried in the foot of the Shenandoah Mountains. There, he learned the lethal arts as well as the stealthy ones. He surpassed most of his fellow trainees in weaponry and physical combat. After the challenges he faced while stranded on Lian Yu, he was grateful to have a roof over his head and a full clip at his disposal. Still, he would rather use his bow, which was stored away in his footlocker beside his bed.

He rarely mixed with his colleagues. His experience on the island with Slade Wilson had left him untrusting of relationships forged in battle. There, at ARGUS OPS, Oliver observed everyone else while he polished the veneer that would be needed in order to do what was expected, preferably without the need to rely on anyone else. Other people were unreliable. Other people died while you were trying to save them. They were a liability.

Robert Queen's son was a quick study and eventually became the lethal errand boy for the division chief, an ambitious and cunning woman named Amanda Waller She appreciated his skills and adopted him as her own blunt instrument. Given a location and identity of a mark, Oliver would render her will with whatever level of violence required. He found he was quite good at it and, given that he had excelled at little more than partying in his youth, and he was technically working for the US of A, he usually managed to compartmentalize any ethical concerns.

By the end of his first year, he received his first long-term assignment. He was ordered to Russia, where he would embed himself with the Bratva. Waller knew that having a man inside the Russian mob might provide valuable intel about their arms sales and Queen seemed like a guy who could handle himself...if something went wrong and he got jammed up or pissed off the wrong hotheaded captain, he was expendable.

Once he arrived in Moscow, it had been easy for Oliver to make contact with the Bratva. All he had to do was pick a few fights (and win) in a few of the seedier dive bars downtown in order to cross paths with Anatoly, a man he had saved from imprisonment by a scientist gone mad, Anthony Ivo, during his time on Lian Yu. Anatoly owed Oliver his life, but over the past months it seemed that debt had been silently forgiven and now Oliver owed Anatoly somehow.

He didn’t like his current situation at all and was keen to get out with his life…because the last thing he wanted to do was get in deeper with Russian organized crime. No, he wanted to return to Starling City and begin addressing the sins his family had wrought there. He wanted to go home.

///—>

Entering the bathroom, Oliver closed the door behind him and discovered his female companion sitting on the closed toilet, eyes trained on an electronic tablet in her hands. She was still fully dressed and the contents of her bag were strewn on the floor and counter, already tweaking Oliver’s gradually developing OCD tendencies.

“Hello,” he spoke and moved toward her, quietly, setting the gun down on the counter.

“Just a minute. You were right about a room bug. It’s a really lousy one. Like old KGB circa 1982 garage sale material. And those cameras in the hall are worse than a lame convenience store. Cheap lenses and the light is so bad out there they can hardly see anything but outlines. So you really didn’t have to do all...that…”

Oliver’s stealthy approach now put him an inch away. He bumped her knees with his own to get her attention. She grimaced and stopped speaking.

“You always were kind of a talker, Smoak,” he sighed.

Felicity Smoak, MIT graduate and ARGUS technology specialist finally looked up at him, slightly agape.

“You remember me?”

Oliver nodded and crouched down to her level, feeling the stretch in his legs. He needed to get to a gym soon and work out.

“Even with black hair. We had a training together, Felicity. I guess you forgot.”

“No,” she might have sputtered. “I just didn’t think anybody noticed me unless I was falling ass over tea kettle on the obstacle course. Not exactly a natural in physical combat. You were the rock star.”

“Yeah, I was good at fighting. Not computers. Not the same things as you. Still, I’m not sure why Waller would send you here when you aren’t a practiced field agent. It’s dangerous to pretend to be a…a hooker around men like Anatoly. You could get into real trouble.”

Oliver studied her face with serious intent. She tried to look tough with a few extra layers of makeup, but there was no question that beneath the cosmetics lurked the same quirky nerd goddess he admired from afar at ARGUS. The first time he noticed her at OPS, he knew right away she was different. Sweet. Street-wise, but not hard. Kind of funny. And fucking brilliant. Not like other women he’d been with at all, which he’d found intriguing at first, eventually attractive, but he knew he was way too damaged to allow himself to get close to someone at the Agency. Someone so lovely.

Felicity’s barking laughter jolted him back to reality. He watched her nestle her tablet between her thighs so her hands were free to cover her mouth and squelch subsequent giggles. Oliver regarded her curiously.

“Well, that explains why you kissed me like that in the hallway. You thought I was, what? Some floozie hired to show you a good time?”

“Yeah.” Oliver shifted uncomfortably.

“But now you’re saying you thought I was miscast? You know, maybe I should be insulted that you didn’t think I was hot enough to be a mob whore. Is it the jeans? A short skirt would have been more appropriate? Or inappropriate as it were? Because that kiss seemed pretty hot. I mean, I rose to the occasion. And so did you, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Felicity,” his voice sounded a little exasperated. “What are you here for?”

“Well, you’re right. I’m not here to be a prostitute. They would have sent Bertinelli for that.”

At the mere mention of Helena Bertinelli, Oliver’s jaw tightened. She was a beautiful woman, alluring and perfectly suited for a Mata Hari-style op, except that she was also quite crazy and had a tendency to fixate on the men she worked with, to their ultimate detriment. He was suddenly relieved Helena wasn’t the person sitting in his bathroom.

Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and waited for an answer. When it finally came, he couldn’t have been more surprised.

“ARGUS informants here in Moscow got word you were being promoted and Knyazev was looking for someone…someone who could do your Bratva star.”

“What? Now you do tattoos?” Oliver shook his head. This night was getting a little too surreal. Felicity stood up, forcing him to rise and stand toe to toe with her. Of course, he had to lower his head to retain eye contact with her. Unfortunately, she now appeared churlish.

“Wow. It’s one thing to think I’m not hooker material, Oliver, but let me assure you I am quite a practiced tattoo artist. I was raised in Las Vegas and my mother’s brother Vince is a legend in that town. He did Ozzy Osbourne’s left arm. And Justin Bieber’s ankle. He taught me everything he knew. Then, I worked professionally while I was on scholarship at MIT, because even full scholarships don’t pay for everything. So, yes, I am quite qualified for this assignment. Overqualified, actually.”

Towering over her, Oliver was reeling from the tongue-lashing and informational download he’d just had from the petite powerhouse in his bathroom. All he could do was nod and purse his lips together to stifle a smile. She was remarkable.

“Hell, I could be a hooker and a tattoo artist, you know.” She was bolder now than he’d ever seen her. Oliver was a little relieved because it seemed she could handle herself.

“Of course, Felicity.” He touched her arm lightly and tried to seem sincere.

“So, we’re doing this,” she continued, summoning up her courage. “Now, if you would, please take a shower. You’re a little ripe…no offense…and I’d rather not risk infection.”

The resolve in her expression and the twinkle in her eye were diverting. His thoughts no longer revolved around the man he’d stabbed to death for Anatoly earlier that night. Oliver nodded and peeled off his shirt, exposing his marred flesh to her. To her credit, Felicity didn’t appear shocked or repulsed. Instead, she looked…intrigued. Tantalized, even. They maintained eye contact until the sound of his descending zipper broke their gaze.

Felicity scrambled to lengthen the distance between them, diving for her overnight bag in search of “something.” Anything, really, to avert her eyes and reduce the tension that seemed to be peaking between them more strongly than ever.

With a smirk and a head shake, Oliver slipped out of his pants and walked into the shower stall to enjoy the spray.

“Are you joining me?” He smiled a little to himself at his question. Nothing entertains a bad boy more than making a good girl blush.

“Maybe later,” she murmured back, diligently studying the tattooing apparatus in her bag.

A part of Oliver was a little disappointed that she wasn’t rushing to his side. He adjusted the temperature of the water to cool and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Remedial Russian. ;-)

Ochen preeyadna (Очень приятно) translates to “very nice” but is used when being introduced to someone to imply “very pleased to meet you.”

Kotyonok (котёнок) translates to “kitten”. Well, she is soft, isn’t she? :-)

Once again, this is the only time I am tagging you for the story unless you tell me to add you. I don’t want to clutter your feed.

@scu11y22, @tinaday3w, @dettiot, @mel-loves-all, @andjustforthismoment, @aussieforgood, @florence-bubbles, @flailykermit, @lerayon, @diggo26, @olicityaddicted, @thewidowpazzy, @melsanfo, @emilybettqueen, @yourviewingparty, @lynslogic, @tanyaslogic, @angelalafan, @coal000, @triciaolicity, @choiceofluthien, @emilybuttrickards, @seaolicity, @supersillyanddorky06, @swordandarrow, @watsoncroft, @jsevick, @readerkas, @yespleasehawkeye, @geniewithwifi, @bluemorgana, @befitandchase, @caedmonfaith, @myhauntedblacksoul, @casydee, @jamyfan-blog, @awesomeziziblr, @bigdeesmallworld, @alemap74, @angelicmisskitty, @almondblossomme, @callistawolf, @miriam1779, @imusuallyobsessed, @vaelisamaza, @mochababychristy, @juliesioux, @pjcmfalcon, @josephine-in-mirkwood, @i-m-a-fan-world, @ms-mags, @red-devilkin, @ah-maa-zing, @itshandledd, @olicityandsteroline, @turn-thy-paige, @wildirish23, @nlh03, @alanna-the-lionheart, @charlinert, @amytosh, @stygian-omada-fan, @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl, @machawicket, @biermank, @i-am-wordaholic, @hope-for-olicity, @memcjo, @jaspertown, @itchiygo, @oliverfel4, @tolivers, @ccdimples88, @ap-n, @pleasantfanandstudent, @emmilynestill, @kainesbitt77, @anthfan, @lyricalarrow, @laurabelle2930, @ellefraser17, @ireland1733, @mammashof, @chachurka, @somewhatinvisible, @tdgal1, @buffaleen, @suziesammy-blog, @missyriver, @lovelycssefan, @kh2o, @codebreakinsmoak, @letsnevergrowupfan, @memcjo, @bwangangelic, @arrowolicity88, @thebookjumper

#Olicity fanfic #Bratva #Oliver Queen #sexy times ahead

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astudyinfreewill · 8 years ago

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92 TRUTHS TAG GAME rules: once you have been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. at the end, choose 25 people to tag!

I was tagged by @hestlias, thanks bb! <3 putting this under a cut for length, here we go:

LAST… [1] drink: fennel herbal tea [2] phone call: facetime with my parents [3] text message: claire @mishcollin on text, ambra @silkspectred on whatsapp <3 [4] song you listened to: omg i had like... a super cheesy 80s playlist on streaming, so i think it was ‘total eclipse of the heart’ [5] time you cried: lol probably when i watched the merlin finale for the second time

HAVE YOU EVER… [6] dated someone twice: listen i barely get to date people once [7] been cheated on: not that i know of [8] kissed someone and regretted it: no [9] lost someone special: yes [10] been depressed: YEP [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: nope (i do get tipsy/drunk, but never to the point of sickness)

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: [12] blue [13] violet [14] pale pink

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU… [15] made new friends: yes [16] fallen out of love: amazingly, i think i finally have [17] laughed until you cried: no [18] found out someone was talking about you: i don’t think so? [19] met someone who changed you: not in any drastic way, i don’t think [20] found out who your true friends are: yes...ish, or to be more precise -- i was lucky enough to have it confirmed again i have amazing friends to count on, but i’ve also fallen out of touch with people whom i still consider friends, so... who knows, man, who knows [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: lol nope

GENERAL… [22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: i don't know half of them half as well as i should like, and i like less than half of them half as well as they deserve (ok but on the real, i think i know most of them irl, i’m kind of a picky fb adder) [23] do you have any pets: no but i really want a cat :( [24] do you want to change your name: no [25] what did you do for your last birthday: went out to dinner with my closest friends, then out for drinks with them and some university buddies [26] what time did you wake up: around 11am, but in my defence i was up till 4am working on a thesis chapter [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: working on my dissertation sob :))))) [28] name something you cannot wait for: i don’t have any big events coming up, but it would be super nice to meet some internet friends irl :’) [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: yesterday morning, she was visiting for the weekend ♥️ [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: i would like to actually have the willpower and focus to work on things when and how much i want to/need to [31] what are you listening to right now: nothing [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: ...i actually don’t think i have [33] something that is getting on your nerves: mansplaining, racism, bigotry, ~men’s rights activists, american politics, uk politics, rape culture, heteronormATIVITY, BI ERASURE, THE PATRIARCHY--- [34] most visited website: either my university webmail, or some combo of twitter/facebook [35] elementary: sorta lonely [36] high school: once i was asked if i was a devil worshipper bc i was wearing fishnet gloves [37] college: interesting, challenging, but also fREE ME :))) [38] hair colour: naturally v dark brown, shaded auburn [39] long or short hair: short, trying to grow it out (we’ll see how long i last) [40] do you have a crush on someone: not really, though this one professor at my uni is fine as hell [41] what do you like about yourself? i try to be kind, i’ve got nice eyes, some people find my dry/nerdy sense of humour funny. sometimes i make words happen in a not-too-bad way

[42] piercings: ears (2 left, 1 right)

[43]blood type: A-

[44] nickname: none [45] relationship status: single and often not in the mood to mingle [46] zodiac sign: aquarius [47] pronouns: she/her [48] fav tv show: currently i’m slightly obsessed with merlin >> i also greatly enjoy brooklyn nine nine, new girl, parks and recreation, and jane the virgin [49] tattoos: none but i’m considering getting one shhh it’s a secret [50] right or left handed: right-handed

FIRST… [51] surgery: never had one (fingers crossed) [52] piercing: oh boy, i think i was like 11? [53] best friend: i don’t think i really have one best friend, currently, but i do have an irl #squad of 3 amazing ladies and we’d probably help each other bury bodies (ok maybe not quite but u get me) [54] sport: LMAO (ok no i actually really want to start yoga but....... i’m so lazy.........) [55] vacation: yes please [56] pair of trainers: uhh currently just a really comfy pair of trainers from an italian brand?

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: nothing [58] drinking: still fennel tea [59] i’m about to: probably queue some posts on tumblr, watch a few youtube videos, and then sleep [60] listening to: ~the sound of silence~ (literally, not the song) [61] waiting for: me to finally get my life together and stop being a disorganised trainwreck [62] want: to be happy, or at least content with where i’m at. also, to write. [63] get married: would be nice, but not a priority/necessity [64] career: as long as it pays the bills and is not mind-numbingly boring, i’m up for anything

WHICH IS BETTER…

[65] hugs or kisses: hugs [66] lips or eyes: eyes [67] shorter or taller: taller [68] older or younger: irrelevant as long as the age difference isn’t extreme [69] romantic or spontaneous: spontaneous [70] nice arms or nice stomach: arms [71] sensitive or loud: sensitive [72] hook up or relationship: relationships [73] troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger? no [75] drank hard liquor? yes [76] lost glasses/contact lenses? i would probably be dead if i had [77] turned someone down: yes [78] sex on first date? no [79] broken someone’s heart? one person, probably [80] had your own heart broken? yes [81] been arrested? no [82] cried when someone died? yes [83] fallen for a friend: yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself? sometimes (rarely) [85] miracles? yes [86] love at first sight? i believe in infatuation at first sight; love takes time to build [87] santa claus? no [88] kiss on the first date? depends on how it goes! [89] angels? yes, though not necessarily ones with fluffy wings and halos

OTHER… [90] current best friend’s name: don’t have just one best friend, but the group chat of my main girls is labeled ‘boss ass bitches’, which is hilarious because we are in fact 4 gigantic nerds [91] eye colour: hazel [92] favourite movie: stardust for feel-good movie, the lotr trilogy for epicness

i’m super sorry i’m literally exhaUSTED but this was fun!!! so please go ahead and steal it ♥️

#about me #questions meme #personal #for you

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things-considered-blog1 · 7 years ago

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My Little Client

It is not long into my exchange that I realize I should try and find part-time work to fund my travels, groceries, and other things. One of my friends suggests I post an ad on a French website called leboncoin, which, for you Canadians out there, is essentially kijiji.

I draft the ad and have two French friends read it over, and it is something along the lines of, “My name is Marisa, I am Canadian, I can teach you English, please hire me.” The accompanying logo is painfully cheesy: I have added a google image of a French flag crossed with a Canadian one captioned by the words, “EASY ENGLISH”.

Quite a while after I post the ad I receive an email from a woman who is looking for someone to help her daughter with English conversation. I am elated. I call her back, trying desperately to come across as professional even though I am very aware of my accent and have rehearsed the conversation in my head beforehand.

My little client is 14 years old, adorable, and extremely dedicated to the language. I decide instantly to only teach her relevant things, to make sure she can get by in a store or restaurant or meeting a new friend. I dive headfirst into our courses, drafting a lesson plan and conducting role plays. We analyze scenes from “Friends” and “Forrest Gump,” we discuss the lyrics from John Lennon’s “Imagine.” We do read alouds and rehearse the elusive “th” sound in English.

I make sure she knows expressions I wish I knew before coming to France. One of our first role plays takes place in a store.

“If someone in a store asks you if they can help you with anything,” I point out, “you might say, ‘I’m just browsing, thanks,’ or ‘Actually, yes, do you have this in my size?’ or ‘Do you have this in a small?’ or ‘Do you have this in red’?”

On the way back from my first lesson, I message my mother and tell her: “Teaching is rewarding but so difficult. How do you do it?”

“Of course, it’s not all perfect,” she says. “But the kids make me laugh. It’s never boring. Never the same.”

Before I came to France, I did not know I spoke English

Well, part of me knew, I guess. But like most people, I didn’t think about it on a daily basis. When I put pencil to paper in class, I didn’t say to myself, Here I am, about to write in English. I would simply think, Here I am, about to write.English has never really been a language to me. It is, rather, a way to exist. It is the words I speak and the songs I sing and the books I buried myself in throughout my childhood.

And now I am extremely aware of the fact I “speak English.” I am aware of the absurdity of words like “crosswalk” and “milk”. I am aware of English’s strange intonation.

A language is a lot more than a language. It is culture, it is music, it is art. And in learning French you assume parts of this French identity; the people, a way of seeing the world, and to a lesser extent, the wine, the cheese. I try to impart this information—which I feel for some reason is crucial—to my little student.

Look at All the Cats

I meet one of my closest friends while taking out my garbage. He is standing on the step, smoking.

“So many cats here,” I try in French, just to make conversation. I am attempting to point out the unusually high number of cats that populate the residence complex.

“What?” he says. My French was not clear.

“A lot of cats,” I try again. “Many cats.”

“What?”

“Cats,” I relent.

We get to talking and then suddenly we are friends. He is from Morocco and speaks four languages—Arabic, French, English, and Spanish—fluently, a quality uncommon where I am from but apparently extremely common here. We drink sweet tea and discuss this country and the language and the administration. Soon enough, another one of his friends joins us. I am telling the two of them about one of my proudest purchases here, a microwave that doubles as an oven.

“This one here bought the worst oven you’ve ever seen,” he says, pointing at his friend.

“Yes,” his friend sighs. “It can only hold—how do you say in English? Deux tiers of a pizza.”

“Two thirds,” I say.

“Right. Two thirds. But actually, this is great.”

“How?” I ask.

“I try to reheat my pizza and it doesn’t fit. The remaining third goes back in the fridge. Better for my health,” he says, grinning.

I smile. It is student struggle at its best: celebrating when things work; laughing it off when they don’t.

Mareezah

I pronounce my name, in French, now, when I introduce myself to people, but it doesn’t seem part of me. In the works I have studied, the writings of Eva Hoffman come to mind.

She recounts in her memoirs the impact of the Anglicization of her and her sisters’ names:

Our Polish names didn’t refer to us; they were as surely us as our eyes or hands. These new appellations, which we ourselves can’t yet pronounce, are not us. They are identification tags, disembodied signs pointing to objects that happen to be my sister and myself. We walk to our seats, into a roomful of unknown faces, with names that make us strangers to ourselves (Hoffman 105, Lost in Translation).

European English

An unexpected result of my time in France is my acquisition of English English, because most of the people I spend time with are from England.

Instead of saying that something is a good idea, I want to say, now, that it is a “good shout.”

Instead of the “washroom” I ask for the “toilet.”

I live in a “flat,” now, not an “apartment”.

Recently, I wanted to say, “the store closes at 8:30,” and felt, on the tip of my tongue, “the shop shuts at half-eight.”

Are you Chinese or Something?

To get to my English student, I must take a bus 20ish minutes out of town. A group of elementary schoolers filter onto the bus and occupy every free seat. Two little girls crunch into the seat next to me.

“It’s okay, there’s enough space,” I tell them in French (or what I think is French.)

One of the little girls cocks an eyebrow at me. She has a brown, curly ponytail and is probably around four years old. “Are you Chinese or something?”

“No,” I laugh. “I’m English.”

She gives her supervisor—a lanky guy who can’t be more the fifteen years old—the side-eye. She says to him, “Because I didn’t understand anythingshe said…”

Her supervisor is visibly cringing, eyes wide, placing a finger over his lips in the hopes of getting her to quiet down.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, and it really is.

When I get off the bus, I am smiling. I say, “Merci-aurevwah,” to the bus driver, the same way I’ve heard French people saying it when getting off the bus. “Thanks-goodbye,” as though it is one word.

The People You Meet

A French friend once told me she loves this blog, but that it seems I have had many bad experiences.

I wouldn’t call them bad, actually. I think every experience is interesting—and I like the neutrality of this word, ‘interesting’.

At its best, the exchange has me dancing in the living room of my friend’s apartment to the pop-funk of Amadou and Miriam, a blind, middle-aged Senegalese pop duo. At its worst, it has me shaking with anger at the front desk of my residence, because the concierge has seen me, but has not greeted me, letting my uneasy “Bonjour” hover between us like stale air.

The exchange is rife with mild frustrations. In the first weeks, I bought little desserts when I really wanted yogurt, an indoor broom instead of an outdoor one, pillows that were too big

for my pillowcases, strange cheese that was too strong, and finally, citrus tea instead of black how I like it, just because I did not know what the word agrumes on the package meant.

If I had to describe this exchange, I would say while it is sometimes bad and sometimes good, it is always interesting.

There is one thing that is missing in this blog, and it is the people. I keep them faceless and nameless so as not to offend them, but the reality is that it is the people who populate this exchange. It is the people that make it exciting and tense and different. Sometimes I feel the urge to write about my friend with the flared jeans and studded backpack; my friend who wears paisley print pants and believes that everything and everyone she meets is “just lovely”; my red-faced professor who swore that anyone who turned in their project 10 seconds late will receive a fail grade, no exceptions; my friend who shares the same deadpan sense of humour I do, and always makes me grin without fail.

Every time I meet someone amazing (as so many of them are) I experience a small heartbreak, like small cuts on your hands that you don’t realize are there until you run them under hot water. Because I know that for every good person there will eventually be a goodbye, because I am not from here, and when I leave, I may not be back for a while.

The Rental

My first ever rental car is a white Toyota Yaris. It took much time and effort to get my hands on.

After having been turned away from nearly every rental agency at the Marseille airport, my friends and I write a list of all the requirements we have been presented in order to find the one company that will rent to us. The list is something like: do we need an international drivers’ license, is there a young driver fee, do you need my passport, do you need my credit card, will you rent to me if I am only 20, how many years do you need to have on your license, do you have five-seaters, do we need to fill up the gas before coming back, how much is that total?

We reserve a car and I realize, at the last possible minute, that Europeans tend to drive standard. I can only drive automatic. It is too late to get refunded and I have already paid 44 euros (around 60 CDN) for a car I cannot drive.

My friends and I are determined. We go to the agency and very nicely ask them for a refund, which we actually manage to get. Then we go next door to Europcar, who has automatics and will rent to 20-year-olds.

The car is an electric and makes no sound when you turn it on. Once behind the wheel, I panic, and wonder if I will remember how to drive, but of course everything is fine. The roads are narrower than I am used to and I drive well below the speed limit, but when I hit the minimum speed, 110, 130—I feel like I am hurtling down the road at the speed of light.

I tell myself to calm down and keep driving. To slow my heartrate, I try to think of how proud my father would be that I am doing this, that I am driving somewhere I am not familiar with. My younger sister is one of the most intuitive drivers I know, so I pretend she is next to me, telling me, “It’s alright, Mar.” I pretend she is standing outside the when I park, easing me into the spot with clear gestures.

I remind myself how similar the roads are to those in Toronto, (aside from their narrowness and hairpin turns, of course.) This is not so different, I tell myself.

At the Beach

When we finally get to Port Miou at the Calanques, I stumble out of the car in relief.

We wade into water that is blue and clear—and freezing cold. “I’m from the Caribbean,” I point out to my friends, grinning. “You call this a beach?” I ease myself into water anyway. The saltwater taste on my lips makes me feel like I am home.

It is only later, when we are sitting on a wall high above the sea that we realize the trip was worth it; the views are stunning. We toss pebbles down the cliffside so that they can reach where we cannot. We watch men fish at the base of the hill and wonder how they got down there. I know, then, that when we drive back I will be more comfortable and that things will be better, and they are.

We wave at unknown sailors on a ship turning into the quay. They wave back.

“I love people,” my friend points out, vaguely. “Two sets of strangers, waving at one another.”

Far below, the water collides with the cliffs, creating white foam. This extreme display of force holds my gaze. I look out at where the ocean blurs into the horizon, feeling like we are on the edge of the world, straddling the fine line between order and chaos.

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