#while staring at my computer and not working yesterday

[archie-sunshine]

Captain's Blog (July 3rd 2025)

So!! It's beennnn like a month and a half/ two months?? since I was frequently posting? and it seems like despite my constant updates, some people may be in the dark about whats going on. So heres what's been going on.

I'm gonna put this under a read more because it's a big of a doozy.

So since one very *ahem* active night in december, my back and left leg have been really giving me trouble. It wasn't so bad at first, but around march, it really began to bug me. It was this strange kind of shooting pain down my leg, something i'd never experienced before.

in april, i decided it was annoying enough to check in at a walk in clinic about it. Due to my rocky relationship with my gp, i thought it'd be best if I went there, where they told me it was likely just a muscle strain and sent me away with some extra strength naproxen.

A few weeks passed and it showed no improvement so cree and I went to the ER, where they told me it was probably just a really bad muscle strain and gave me Tylenol 3s.

And the next day, I felt just as terrible if not worse, so I went into the ER again, where they told me it was probably a pinched nerve! and they gave me some more extra strength naproxen and a pain shot.

and then I woke up in the middle of the night unable to move without excruciating pain. so! they loaded me up into an ambulance, took me to the ER, and left me writhing in agony for 6 hours before getting a doctor in to see me and tell me within a minute that i had a herniated disc in my lower back. They gave me a morphine shot, a pain shot, and an oxycodone prescription.

Luckily, the drugs they gave me helped enough to help me walk again, if only briefly. They told me that i had to lay flat on my back as much as possible, and not get up unless strictly necessary.

the soonest they could get me in to get an MRI at the hospital to confirm their suspicions was in august.

So we thought, oh! we can look for a different place to get an MRI done! We just need a requisition from my GP!

AND THEN MY WORTHLESS FUCKING GP REFUSED TO GIVE US AN MRI REQUISITION.

So I got a new GP!! Yay!! She was MUCH more helpful, prescribed me medication that worked, and got me my MRI requisition! My therapist also directed me to a personal friend of hers who worked at an MRI centre, who got us in right after we got our requisition which was super lucky!

It was confirmed to be a herniated disc, recommended to be operated on, and my doctor immediately sent off a requisition for a surgeon!! annnnd-!

then. I. waited.

It's hard to express how difficult it is to just be. stuck. in bed. just stare into my phone some more. watch something on my computer. keep your mind off how stuff is hurting, keep your mind off how long this is taking.

It took 3 weeks for them to get back to me, only to find out that the clinic my doctor had sent it to had no interest in treating me.

so, wait another week, and see if someone else can get the surgery done.

All the while, things are getting a tiny bit better, but im still depending on these meds to keep me from being in terrible pain. I'm out of bed more, but end up exhausted by the time im back in bed from how much im aching.

My saving grace at this point, and through all of this, was cree. He was there for me every step of the way, helping keep my spirits up, keeping me from being exhausted and depressed as much as he could. I can't express enough how much help he's been.

And then, just yesterday, I finally got in to see a surgeon! and.. well.

That! was crushing to hear! And those are real quotes by the way, minus the LOL of course. Because I was able to walk with a cane while medicated, I wasn't eligible for surgery. they insisted upon it, told me there was nothing I could do but wait for the pain to go away. He said 'come back in six weeks and if it's worse I can see if maybe I can treat you but youd still have to wait months to see me for surgery anyways.'

two months of agony and waiting for news for this to be the result.

but, I called my doctor, relayed the news, and she's not willing to give up on me. She's looking for alternate pain relief methods to help keep me from needing to be on the drugs im on indefinitely while I recover, specifically an epidural injection to stop my nerve from sending pain signals to my brain until my disc heals on it's own.

I'm lucky for the support I have from my friends and family, and I know in time I'll feel much better, but for now, my work is going to be slow, now that I'm back at my desk i have to be careful not to sit up straight too long. I may not work as fast or as constantly as I used to for a while, but I'm not going to let this injury keep me from doing the things I love.

Thank you all again for your patience and support. I hope to be better again soon. :]

[heyclickadee]

Okay, here’s the slightly evil, kind of sad, but mostly happy in a somewhat melancholy way (basically just a lot of feelings here) thought I had about Tech and Phee having kids, if that should ever happen:

So, operating under the assumption that Tech comes back, let’s say he and Phee do get together. And let’s say they stay together, and end up more or less space married. Let’s say they both want kids, and, after a lot of discussion about the war going on in the background and how they’re going to raise them and keep them safe, they end up going ahead with it. They don’t really settle down in any one place, but they’ve got their own ship with plenty of room, Pabu (maybe) is a good, stable home base to go back to when needed, and they’ve got a huge family for support. Those kids, if they have more than one, are loved. They have tons of uncles, somebody is always around, maybe some of the other batchers have partners (or not) and also have kids or adopt kids (heck, let’s throw Riyo in there, too, since she and Echo are a popular ship—they end up together but they don’t want kids, but they do a lot of work helping younger clones when they’re not fighting the Empire, Hunter took in several of the clone cadets they rescued from Tantiss, Wrecker is the favorite uncle but Crosshair is the favorite babysitter, they all manage to visit Cut and Suu once in a while, and and both Omega and Lyana are delighted to have little cousins running around (I kind of headcanon that Shep and Lyana kind of adopted Phee into their family after she found Pabu, so even if we’re going with a version of Phee that was formerly a Jedi and and doesn’t really know who her birth parents were, her kids are going to have family on both sides).

And this all exists just as a headcanon for something that could maybe happen after season three, depending on how season three goes, buuuut I like it. It’s just this nice little thought of this big, chaotic family, way bigger than just our six batchers, that’s structured a little weirdly, because clones, and everyone has their problems. but they’re all doing their best for each other and there’s a lot of love in it. And then I started thinking about clone aging.

And we all know clone aging sucks, but: let’s say clones really do age at twice the normal rate once they reach maturity, and let’s say Tech is chronologically, like, twelve but physically in his late twenties. A hard late twenties where he could pass for anything between thirty and fifty, but late twenties all the same. Suppose he gets the best case scenario and manages to live till he’s physically 90. Chronologically, he’ll be around forty-five. So, close to best case scenario, barring dying violently or getting sick, he’s got maybe another thirty-three years in him. That might seem like a lot (and it probably is to a clone), but to put that in perspective, I���m thirty-five. If I die in thirty-three years, I’ll only be sixty-eight—I’ll have died pretty young. And I’ve already been alive almost three times as long as many of the clones have. The clones do not get that much time.

There’s a lot to be explored with that in regards to Phee; I’ll be honest, the potential, “This is going to be over faster than either of us are going to be ready for,” “It is—let’s do it anyway,” is part of why at draws me to the ship, because there’s something a little defiant about two people going into a relationship knowing one of them was built to die faster, and choosing to live their lives how they want despite that. But there’s also a lot to be explored in how Phee and Tech would handle that with their kids. Because—they’d tell them. They’d have to sit down and tell them once they got to a certain age. Tech is going to be lucky to see them hit their twenties. It’s not like they wouldn’t notice their dad and their clone uncles getting old so much faster than their mom, Omega, or their uncle Shep, or anyone else they know. They’d ask questions, and it’s not like Tech wouldn’t be up-front. But I don’t think it’d be an easy conversation for any of them to have.

[demonic0angel]

Dead Silent. One of the batfam ask Danny why he’s more clingy than his siblings and Danny just goes “huh??” Cuz he’s probably the LEAST clingy. Dan is Yandere Levels of clingy, Jazz is Ride or Die clingy, Dani is probably Stalker clingy, and don’t even get him started on their parents.

Danny, by comparison, is the normal one and I feel like that should be appreciated so much more.

(This is SO freaking funny and you're so right omg. It got long bc I got excited again lmaooo)

"You... you think I'm... clingy?!" Danny cried in shock, looking around for a camera. Were they serious? Was this actually real?

Duke said with a shrug, "Well... I mean, I always see you around Cass. We're just asking."

"I am literally the least clingy and the most normal out of my siblings."

Jason snorted from where he stood behind Tim's chair. Everyone was listening in but only Damian and Duke had the graciousness to not pretend that they weren't. Even Cass was staring, blinking as she was held in Danny's arms for a cuddle after the patrol.

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

Danny glared at him and pointed to his shadow, which stretched out beneath him from the Batcave's lights.

"One, the only reason she doesn't follow you around everywhere is because Jazz literally has Shadow following you whenever you go out." As he said this, two eyes blinked from within Jason's shadow and then disappeared just as quickly. "Two, she had all of your medical information on a file in her phone! And just information on you, period! Three, just yesterday, she blew up two ships and took down a trafficking ring by herself because she got reports that they put a hit on you! And don't even talk about how normal she is compared to me, because she definitely isn't! You just think she's a normal amount of clingy because the both of you have your brains rotted from romance novels!"

Jason made a face. It was one of great affront, grudging acceptance, and a wistful adoration. Danny couldn't even feel smug for proving him right because the look on his face was just disgusting.

Cass giggled from within his arms.

Dick opened his mouth and Danny pointed at him aggressively, clutching at Cass as he said, "You can't speak either! Dan is literally the most clingy out of all of us! You know what Jazz said?! He literally has abandonment issues and codependency!! Y'know what his name was before we came here?! It's "World Destroyer"! The only reason he hasn't done anything is because he really likes you and wants to spend most of his time watching you and keeping you safe instead of going around and causing destruction!"

Dick blinked. "But he also—"

"Wrong! He uses clones to do stuff while he keeps watch over you, and you're the only reason he has a moral code at all."

Dick made a considering face and then he smiled. "Aww, that's kinda cute. I didn't know he was so clingy."

Danny muttered to Cass, "Are you seeing this bullshit?"

She giggled again and patted at his arms that were wrapped around her neck.

Duke nodded, amusement on his face. "I see your point. But what about Dani? You're definitely clingier than her."

Danny made an error noise. "Nope! The entire Young Justice is codependent and clingy, so it just looks normal. And Dani just follows around Kon and Tim in intervals so you can't see either of them." He also grimaced at Tim, who was still working at the computer. "And Tim is already watching them, aren't you? You three are a bunch of freaks."

Tim looked up with a small smirk, much to Damian's audible disgust. "You got me there. I keep trackers and cameras on all of them. And Dani's usually just invisible."

Danny smiled triumphantly. "Hah! See? I'm the least clingy!"

There were murmurs of agreement and then Duke said, "I don't know, I think all four of you are clingy and weird."

Danny sulked. "No I'm not."

Duke gestured to all of him. "You're literally climbing Cass like a koala."

Okay, so his legs were wrapped around her waist and he was hanging onto her like a sticker, but so what? She didn't mind!

Cass snickered and said, "It's okay. He's light."

"Yeah, I'm light," grumbled Danny as he squeezed her.

Duke and Damian shared a look, as Duke said, "We should get out of here. Thank god these freaks are taken."

"Agreed. Thank goodness we are the most normal."

Now there were cries of outrage throughout the entire cave all over again.

[hederasgarden]

Preview: On the Horizon

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.

Paring: Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader)

Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, smut, flirting and asshole!Scott A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary. Hoping to have this fic out next weekend!

You brush the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you long for the cool labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology wasn't even your field; you were here for your engineering expertise to handle the specialized equipment the team needed to gather their data.

From your vantage point on the tailgate of the truck, you observe the other storm chasers gather around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual from the brief interactions you've observed.

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again Tyler's gaze falls on you. He grins and winks, pulling down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he'd been quick to dash those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team.

Clearing your throat, his eyes briefly land on you before returning to the screen in front of him. "What?" he demands.

"Oh. I was going to get something to eat. Do you want something?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station.

The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air.

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused. 

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies. 

"Oh, he's um... he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he questions, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to respond to his comment or the flirty tone. Before today you’d hardly spoken, he mostly interacted with Javi or Scott.  You’re saved from answering when the bell on the door jingles and someone calls your name. 

It’s Scott. 

"Owens," he bites out, surprising you when he rests a hand on your shoulder and stands close enough that you feel his shirt brush your arm. Your lips part and your lashes flutter in response. 

Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile.  "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

"What did he want?" Scott demands, move to stand in front of you after Tyler’s gone.

"Oh, nothing. Just... saying hi."

Scott's jaw tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his dark brown eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. When you turn back around your suspicions are confirmed. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

Part 1 is now out!

[godoreo22]

Saja boys x Manager reader: Part 2

Fake it till you make it

(Name) is ushered into the apartment by the group of guys.

"Whoa." (Name) gapes as they take in the lavish home. Flat screen TV mounted on the walk plush couches in the living room, white marble counter in the kitchen and a fountain in the middle of the foyer because why not?

"I'd have to sell every organ in my body to even afford one of those couches." (Name) sits on one and melts into the soft material as if they were sitting on a cloud.

"Well we're glad you like it." The sweet husky voice of who (Name) assumed was the leader coaxed her out of her relaxation. (Name) straightens and stands up. "RIGHT yes this is still a job interview technically."

"Hello my name is (Name), i am here the the manager position, but you all already knew that." (Name) stammers a bit with a deep bow.

All five of the beautiful men smirk.

"Oh they're adorable" said the one with with long pink hair causing the rest of them to chuckle and murmur in agreement

"You've already got the job baby" The one with their eyes covered says while holding their chin. (Name) can practically feel their brain buffering. They take and a big step back and takes a deep breath to calm they haywire nerves and burning face.

"That's amazing but we need to keep a professional relationship... mainly for my sanity." (Name) mumbles the last bit but plasters a large smile.

All the boys look at each other a little surprised at the swift shut down but each of them have a challenging look on their faces.

"Alright Boss, no more funny business." Said the one with long pink hair says with a flirtatious smile.

"Right... So this manager job, i assume you're all a boyband?" (Name) inquires.

"You assume right, I'm Jinu" Said the one with dark hair and deep eyes. "This is Romance." He gestures to the one with long pink haired boy who blows them a kiss at that forms a heart that actually flies.

"Interesting..." (Name) notes watching it before focusing back on the others introductions.

"That's Abby." The boy with a chiseled jaw line flexes causing his shirt to stretch and his abs to become exposed. (Name) pupils dilate as they stare at his magnificent physique, imagining how it feels to lick them like a glazed doughnut. They take a deep breath and pinch their side hard to steel themselves.

"Mhm" Abby chuckles a their reaction and relaxes.

"Mystery." (Name) looks at the boy with long silver hair who gives them a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement which (Name) returns

"And finally, baby." (Name) looks at the last boy with an adorable face and a cute smile "What's up girl?" Only for his deep voice to completely catch her off guard.

"Hmm well you're all... unique individuals. Definitely boyband esque." (Name) nod in thought. "So i assume you all your roles."

"Yup, I'm lead singer, Abby is on choreo, Baby is the wrapper, Mystery is the lyricist, and Romance is the vocalist." Jinu says which makes (Name) sigh in relief. Less work.

"Ok great well first your gonna need a debut, put your name out there." (Name) starts pacing with a purpose.

"We gotta deal with booking a venue, Instruments, choreography." (Name) starts the drone now feeling like they've trained their whole life for this.

'Cute.' All the boys think in unison.

"Whoa whoa Boss calm down, let us get to know know you first." Romance wraps their arm around (Name)'s shoulder.

"I don't know, I'm sure there is so much we have to get to for the debut." (Name) squeaks out as they feel heat rise in them. "Come on, we're gonna be spending a lot of time together, might as well."Baby adds getting closer to them.

"Whoa you just kinda popped up outta no where." (Name) chuckles nervously before gasping loudly.

"I have the perfect idea for your debut."

UGH i wanted to get this out like yesterday but i fractured my knee on top of getting braces again because i have some rare teeth condition. I'm just out of it kinda but i have my computer so i will continue to type.

Taglist: @imaginarydreams @sparky2020sworld @strayharmony943 @lysira340 @crescent-z

[evie-sturns]

ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: matts been so busy with his filming schedule, that when he comes home you're basically begging for his touch for almost an hour, he finally gives in.

contains: smut, fingering, needy reader, softdom!Matt, swearing, small argument, crying.

--------------------└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘----------———

matt and I have been dating for almost a year, and in the past few months, he's been so busy to the point where I've just been hanging out at his house during the day, today is one of those days. I've been touch-deprived bed rotting in Matt's room.

the front door unlocks with a bang from downstairs, i sit up in matts bed, the blankets slowly falling off my chest. "matt!?" i call out, rubbing my face.

"hey baby", matt says while walking into the room, his voice is low and croaky. he doesnt even look my way as he slumps down on his desk chair.

he throws on his headphones, instantly starting to edit the Wednesday video.

"for fucks sake." i groan quietly, throwing my head back down into the pillows.

"matt." i whine, he looks over his shoulder at me "mm?" he says, his long fingers resting on the keyboard.

"i need you.." i say, maintaining eye contact with him.

he nods, turning back around to his computer, starting to edit again.

its not even been 10 minutes before my mouth is opening again.

"matthew."

"sweetheart what is it."he says, pulling his headphones off and spinning his chair back around to face the bed.

i pout my lips, "please come here, you can edit tommorow."

"i told you it'll be a while, i know your upset but this is very important." he says in a tone that reminds me of my childhood, hes acting like my dad.

"so more important than me then hm?" i roll my eyes.

"don't be silly." he replies.

-

45 minutes later

11:29pm

i've been laying in matts sheet for almost an hour while hes been editing, hes stopped replying to me everytime i say his name now.

i let out a dramatic sigh, which of course matt pays no attention to.

"for fucks sake matt!" i raise my voice, sitting up in bed.

"what. literally what." he says, slamming his headphones down into the desk.

"look, should i even be here? should i even be with you? you've quite literally payed no attention to me for like 3 months?! am i just a fuck toy now or what."

his eyes widen "oh please." he scoffs in disbelief, he head shaking in shock.

i stay silent, i need to have a proper conversation with him for once.

he powers off his computer before standing up abrubtly. he almost stomps over to the bed before laying down next to me. "happy?" he asks, his voice monotone.

"no, im fucking not matt." i say, my voice breaking followed by a sob.

i see matts head snap round to look at me, his eyes squinting.

"are you crying- shit.. wait."

i hide my face in my hands while matt sits up, he lets out a shaky breath.

"oh fuck no please don't cry" he says, placing a hand on the side of my face. "look at me, look at me y/n." matt says sternly.

i slowly peel my hands away from my face, tears now streaming down my cheeks. matts face is painted with guilt and concern.

"sit up." he says, which i do.

he grabs both sides of my face

"i love you so fucking much, you know that." matt says softly, staring into my eyes.

i shake my head "i'm not sure i know that anymore." i sniff.

matts jaw drops slightly, a silence filling the room.

"no, no nope. please don't ever say that." he starts.

"i am insanely grateful for you, work has been piling up like crazy and i know, i know i haven't had time for other people but once i get my yesterday's problem launched everything will be calm."

i hear the front door open from downstairs, chris and nicks chatter getting louder as they walk upstairs, but matt doesn't even bat an eye as he keeps rambling on.

"you're my favorite person ever, and i know i've been a proper dick these past weeks, but tommorow i have a day off, and if you would want we could go out, or-.. just lay here the whole day i really dont mind."

i wipe my eyes, leaning foward and grabbing matts jaw, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

we both pull away to catch our breath "can i do anything for you right now? to make you feel better.." matt says gentley, playing with my hair.

i nod, "just one thing.."

he nods, "yeah?" he smiles sweetly at me.

"i don't wanna say itt.." i say, my cheeks turning red

he lets out a small laugh, “it can’t be that bad"

i grab his hand, rings decorating his pinky finger, his pointer and his thumb.

i push down all of his fingers execpt for two, the ring finger and middle finger.

matt nods understandingly “yeah?”

“yeah..” i say back.

“you’ve got to tell me with your words gorgeous.”

“i need your fingers.” i reply

“where do you need them?” he teases back.

“in.. me?”

“there you go.” matt says, a smile spread across his face.

i lay back down in the sheets, peeling my shirt off my body. matt lays down too, “can you lay on your side for me?” he says, which i do.

he turns onto his side aswell, grabbing my waist and pulling me towards his body, my bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt covering his torso.

he spoons me as his hand, which is decorated in rings, snakes round to the waist band of my pyjama shorts.

i feel his chest rise and fall against my back as his hand slowly pulls down the shorts to my knees.

matt traces random shapes up the inside of my thigh, slowly getting towards where i need him most.

a pathetic moan escapes my mouth as the cold metal of his ring grazes past my hole.

i haven’t been touched in so long that the smallest touch is embarrassingly driving me crazy.

“please.” i groan out, earning a small chuckle from matt into the back of my hair.

i look down at matts hand, which is resting on my pelvic bone.

"matt please-" i start but he cuts me off "i know, can you be nice and quiet for me? chris and nick are across the hall."

i nod "yes- yeah" i instantly reply.

his two fingers dip down to my clit, he rubs it slowly, barely applying pressure.

his elbow rests on my hip as his fingers pick up the pace, i feel matts breaths from behind me as i reverse back into him more, my back and ass fully pressed against matts chest and crotch.

i feel one of his fingers push against my entrance before he presses fully inside of me, his long finger filling me up. "fuck.." i say softly.

the feeling from matt ive been craving all day is turning me into a moaning mess.

he quickly adds his second finger, curling both of them inside of me. i grip the bedsheets in front of me as he repeatedly hits my g-spot.

i slam a hand over my mouth as i feel the knot in my stomach build up.

the fact i have to be quiet is making this 10 times hotter due to the fact matt usually lets me be as loud as i need to be, which is always loud.

"god 'feel so good around my fingers." matt says, his voice hoarse from behind me.

that'll do it

the knot in my stomach snaps, my hand thats on my mouth falls down into the mattress, gripping the sheets, "fuck matt oh my god!" i scream out, clenching around his fingers.

i feel matts breaths hitch against my back, he instantly pulls his fingers out of me and covers my mouth. "shh, shush" he laughs slightly.

i catch my breath slowly as matts hands keep on my mouth.

i roll over onto my back, matts still laying on his side.

"gross" i smile, "oh shit- yeah." matt says, taking the hand which was just inside me off my mouth.

i cuddle up next to him "thank you" i whisper as i pull up the blankets.

"no- no thank you for forgiving me" he says, rubbing my arms softly.

my eyelids feel heavy, somehow tired after doing nothing all day. matts tense underneath me, i assume hes just mad at himself about earlier but then the realization hits me that hes just fingered me for a few minutes without getting anything back.

"matt" i say, sitting up and pulling the blankets down. "what?" matt says, running a hand through his hair.

i point to his sweatpants, that have a very obvious tent.

"you're hard! why didn't you tell me i could've helped?" i say, reaching for his waistband.

matt grabs my wrist, stopping me "no- no its okay, i don't want you to have to do anything for me after i've been shitty to you."

"thats gotta hurt matt cmon, its okay." i laugh slightly, resisting matts grip on my wrist.

"no, no go to sleep sweetheart it'll go away in like 5 minutes." he says with a smile, pulling the blanket back up over us and playing with my hair.

i sigh "are you sure, i dont mind helping-" he cuts me off "im sure, get some rest."

-

10 minutes later.

i sit up in bed after hearing the bathroom door slam shut. matts no longer next to me.

my eyebrows scrunch as i stand up out of bed, stumbling over to the bedroom door and opening it.

i walk down the corrider to nicks room, i open it to find him fast asleep with chris on their beanbag.

i shut their door, walking over to the bathroom door.

i slowly push it open to find matt standing over the toilet, his eyes shut and head thrown back as he repetedy runs his ringed hand up and down his length quickly.

"oh-"

matts eyes open and his head swings round to look at me "what are you doing!" he says, frantically pulling up his sweatpants.

"im sorry im sorry!" i say, slamming the bathroom door shut.

i hear the water run before matt walks out of the bathroom only a few seconds later, his cheeks are a deep red and he has small droplets of sweat on his forehead.

he smiles at me awkwardly but i instantly grab his shoulders and spin him round.

"matthew go finish up in there, you've been hard for almost half an hour."

"o-okay yep thank you." he replies instantly, speed-walking back into the bathroom eagerly, slamming the door shut behind him.

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

[lupusaur]

mutt!bob x purebreed!reader (fem reader)

i wanted to write a follow-up to this bc i like writing reader not liking Bob even tho i would fold immediately

Bob isn't that stupid.

He knows you're mad at him for marking you as his, and if he didn't know before, the educational video titled “Mating Bonds and How They Affect Omegas” you made him watch was enough for anyone to understand.

Mainly because you sat with him, staring to make sure he was focused and not zoning out. Then you made him write a letter of reflection on why he was sorry and what he learned.

“Bob….”

Now he had you exactly where he wanted you. On his lap with his face pressed against the now-healed mark. Bob was already licking at the glands to get at your scent. Right now you were looking over the paper while typing something on the computer “hacking stuff for the team” but he noticed your attention was on his letter more. It made him feel fuzzy knowing that he was more important than work. Of course he was, the video mentioned something about how mates couldn't live without each other. There were even times when one of the pairs would get sick if apart for too long. He'll make sure you'll never feel his absence. If Bob had his way, he'd be nestled inside of your warm heat 24/7, keeping you nice and full with his seed–

“I will make it up to you by keeping you satisfied and full. If it can't be my cock, it'll be my fingers. My love for you can only be contained inside of you.”

You wanted to gag at how cheesy and immature it sounded. What was he? A highschool fuckboy? One would think he would take the situation a bit seriously or even pretend to. It was almost funny how honest he was to the point it extended onto paper. Was this something all Alphas thought about? No, Bucky seemed too tired to even remember what he had for lunch yesterday. So all Alphas except Bucky. It didn't help that he was actively grinding and drooling on you now. Did he deliberately write that to hear you say it? This little mutt thinks he's smarter than you. Laughable. You'll make him write two pages next time.

Bob was too busy enjoying himself to think of how his actions had consequences. You really read that part out loud! You actually said those words he had written in a daze when he had thought of bending you over and fucking you silly! As much as you try to hide it, you look annoyed and irritated after most interactions and missions. What better way to feel better by not thinking at all? Having him be in you and pour his love and keep it inside is the best way to make all your worries go away.

“Ah–! Yes! I'll keep you full, I'll give you my knot! Please! Pleasepleaseplease take my knot, it'll fit so well, you need it! You'll die without it! Said so in the video!” Bob was whimpering now, hugging you close and rubbing his cock frantically between your legs and adjusting you to feel your warmth directly press against it. You whined at the feeling of him licking the fur on your ear before sinking his teeth into it. “Not…now! I'm working!”

“You can work later pleasepleaseplease..! You'll die…!”

This dirty slobbering mutt is crazy. Is he really about to cry over not being able to fuck you? Don't people usually get a date first? The Sentry Serum had to have changed Bob from a rabbit to a dog. That, or he was a rabbit in his past life. Was he pretending to be dumb or was he taking things to the extreme? You won't die if you don't get a knot. Well, when your cycle comes and you're delirious from your heat it'll feel like it, but you won't actually die. He has to be stupid. A stupid mutt with a humping problem who happens to have a cock that's bigger than his brain.

The proximity is getting to you but this assignment has to be finished by tonight. Bob can wait. You both can.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Implied/Eventual), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Fake Dating

Word Count: 7.4 K (OOPS)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+/Mature because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, violence. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I know, I should be working on "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," but this idea was swirling around in my head and I had to write it.

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

"Alright Butcher, I'm done." You sigh closing the file in front of you and standing from the worn wooden table covered in empty Chinese food containers and stacks of papers almost as tall as you. "If I read another word about trying to stop an electrical current, I'm going to commit toaster bath and I'm taking you with me."

It was late, past two in the morning, but Butcher had a lead on a B-list supe that had been using his electrical powers to steal cars and run a chop shop business downtown. You had been close to catching him yesterday, so close in fact that your eyebrows were still a little crispy from when he shot a bolt of lightning at your face that you only dodged in the nick of time when Soldier Boy grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you out of the way. Unfortunately, your shirt hadn't survived, it had ripped and you spent the rest of the day wearing one of Butcher's oversize Hawaiian shirts all the while Soldier Boy told you that it was a waste to keep a pretty little figure like yours covered up.

I hate him so much.

When Butcher had initially asked you to join his team a month ago you were excited, but then you found out that you were going to be stuck with Soldier Boy. The supe, that despite Annie's arguments should be given back to the government and put on ice, was allowed to join Butcher's team after he took down Homelander. Who was currently frozen on ice, somewhere. As long as Homelander was far from you, you didn't care. The guy gave you the creeps.

But the team still couldn't figure out where the electricity manipulating supe was hiding or where he was dropping the cars, which meant you had spent the past twelve hours staring at files and a computer screen so hard that you felt like your brain going to melt out of your ears.

"Do whatever ya want kid. I'm not ya damn babysitter." Butcher grunts, his face hidden behind his own file. His boots were on the table and he was leaning back in his chair so far that you were tempted to tip him over, all it would take was a good solid kick.

You smile at him. Butcher was adept at pretending that he didn't want you around, of course you knew how antsy he got when you weren't there to offer your opinion. You figured that he just liked pushing people away and given his history you understood that.

Annie sits up from where she and Hughie are cuddling on the couch. "Why don't you stay?" Her brow furrows with worry. Annie was big on the whole, "women not walking at home alone at night thing," which normally you didn't, but you figured that whatever was waiting outside the apartment was probably less intimidating than Homelander. And you could handle it.

"Because I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight and not that godforsaken rickety cot in the corner that Frenchie got. Can't stand that one spring that always seems so happy to see me." You pull your leather jacket off of the back of the chair and whirl it around your shoulders, before bringing your hair out from under the collar.

Hughie snorts.

"Hey, that cot is an antique!" Frenchie crows from his highbacked chair spewing a mouthful of smoke into the air. Kimiko was sitting at the coffee table in front of him working on her writing, a thick black marker clutched in her hand. MM was taking the night off, but you thought he was probably trying to avoid Soldier Boy.

"Yeah well, that cot is about as old as grandpa over there." You gesture to where Soldier Boy is sitting in another one of the armchairs in the corner watching you while puffing on a joint.

He was always watching you and due to your inability to read his mind it made it difficult for you to gauge what he was thinking, but you assumed that it was the usual macho crap he spouted 100% of the time. But he wasn't checking you out, well this time he wasn't. You had caught him staring at your butt more than once, and he'd made several comments about exactly what he'd like to do to you, but right now an emotion glimmered behind his eyes that you couldn't place.

Soldier Boy stands from the chair. He was wearing a dark t-shirt that stretched over his chest and a pair of blue jeans that fit him just right, well, if you were looking at that. You were, but it was easier to pretend that you weren't. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

Damn it, why does someone so attractive have to be such a dick?

 "A lady like you shouldn't be walking home alone this late." He frowns at you.

"Like me?" You arch an eyebrow.

"Good thing she ain't a lady." Butcher chuckles at his joke

You punch him hard on the arm, not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt.

“Bloody hell woman.” Butcher rubs his sore bicep shooting you an angry look.

Not many people could look intimidating while wearing a Hawaiian shirt, but Butcher pulled it off. Not many people looked good in a Hawaiian shirt either, but Butcher pulled that off too.

"I'm serious." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow.

"Oh now you're so chivalrous?" You cock your hip to the side, planting your hands on your hips. "Didn't you try to kill me last month?"

"To be fair, you were trying to kill me-"

"Because you were trying to kill Annie. Where was the chivalry when you tried to tear me apart with your bare hands?"

"There are plenty of other things I'd like to do to you with my bare hands sweetheart." His grin turns wolfish. "I'd be happy to show you sometime, perhaps you'd like some company?"

"I'd rather spend an hour with that ancient spring than roll around with you." You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Then again I’m sure that cot is the same age as you and it can at least get it up.”

Annie muffles a snort behind her hand.

“Last time I checked everything was working, perhaps you’d like to see for yourself?” Soldier Boy smirks.

 "Can't you keep in your pants for once?" Butcher sighs, tilting the file downward to glare at Soldier Boy.

You can't help but smile at Butcher's response. Butcher might have tried to push you away, but even you could see his protective instincts. That became wildly apparent whenever you went out on a mission alone and although you would think that it was annoying for someone to think they needed to protect you, in Butcher's case you made an exception.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes. "She shouldn't walk home alone."

You wave your hand over the wilting fern on the kitchen counter, eyes shifting to green for a moment as it perks up. It was the only plant in the house and although six people lived in this apartment, not one ever remembered to water it. "And you shouldn't butt into my business."

Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Annie interrupts his train of thought.

"Wait y/n. Coffee tomorrow?" Annie asks ignoring them. She's sitting up from the couch, her body turned towards you with both of her hands on the back cushions. 

She was one of your best friends, well, really one of your only friends. You'd grown up together and when Annie moved to New York you had decided to move and take some college classes in the city while you worked at a small garden shop after class part time.

The owner still couldn't figure out why nothing you cared for seemed to die.

You usually kept your status as a supe on the down low, and only used your powers when you really had to, which wasn't often before you joined Butcher's team. You'd only lasted two semesters before Annie came to ask you for help finding Soldier Boy and after that, Butcher asked you to join his team for shit pay. You accepted but you still worked at the garden shop part-time, also for terrible pay, but you loved it there.

Your powers made it easy to make sure nothing died and sometimes it felt like home being surrounded by plants. Caring for them was the one thing you seemed to be good at, and sometimes they felt like family.

You didn't have much family left, beside your grandmother and your older brother who still lived back in Des Moines, and sometimes it was lonely in the city. Annie was the only person who you'd been able to connect with since you moved, and now that you weren't going to classes the friends you made in college didn't really understand what you were doing with your life.

And telling them "oh I hunt down supes for a living and sometimes kill them" didn't really sound like something you could say in passing. It also did wonders for your dating life… NOT.

"Sorry babe, I'm at the shop tomorrow. But I'm off at 3 if you want to get coffee after?" You hold open the front door of the apartment, looking back at her expectantly.

You hated blowing Annie off, especially since the two of you hadn't been able to hang out outside of missions mostly because she was spending all her time with Hughie.

"Sounds great!" She beams.

And with that you disappear out down the hallway and into the night.

It's raining as you walk down the desolate streets. Cars splash water over the gum covered sidewalks that soaks through your tennis shoes and makes every step against the ground squish. But you ignore it.

You usually loved when it rained, loved to feel the cooling water pool against your skin, loved to hear the soft patter of it against the windows of your apartment, loved the earthy smell that came with the drops, but not tonight. You were still thinking about Soldier Boy.

You don't know why you let him get under your skin so much. You'd met men like him in the past and it was usually easy for you to brush them off, but not him.

I mean yes he is gorgeous, and maybe kind of charming when he's not trying to get into my pants, but I don't want just a one night fling. I want what Annie and Hughie have.

You think about your best friend and her loving boyfriend. You tried not to be jealous, but it was hard when the last time you had a lasting relationship was your first boyfriend back in high school who, when he found out you were a supe, was only interested if you had the power to shape shift into someone 'a little more busty.' The relationship ended with you locking him in a tree and the fire department having to come cut him out. He was fine, maybe a little more green than a normal person, but...

You'd heard that he got a job from the Green Giant Vegetable Company doing cameos as the Jolly Green Giant. So if anything, you helped him have a career?

Annie and Hughie were both head over heels in love with each other, knew everything about each other, didn't have any secrets, and it wasn't just sex, it was a close relationship with someone else who understood every part of you. You wanted that; and as much as you had avoided relationships in the past due to your supe status, you still hoped to find a supe that was kind and didn't think that they were a god for what they could do.

Why do so many have a god complex?

You think again about Soldier Boy. That wasn't the first time he had tried to coax you into bed and it wouldn't be the last, that was for sure. At first you had hoped that he would give up, it had been a month since you'd met, but he was still going strong, despite having a different woman in that apartment almost every night.

Maybe he's just really horny after being trapped in a lab all these years. Then again- You remember all the articles you read about him from the 80s, the ones that recorded his numerous escapades and think about his founding of Herogasm.

Maybe he's always like that, but he never comes on to Annie or Kimiko, only me. And I've threatened castration multiple times. You'd think he would care more about that than anything else.

You consider with a frown, clutching your jacket tighter around you. Rain trickled down from your hair and under the collar of your jacket to soak into your t-shirt. Your once light blue jeans were soaked to a dark navy with the amount of water that splashed up from the road and dripped down your back. For the first time in forever, you wished that it wasn't raining.

Probably should have just gotten a cab, but it's so expensive and-

"Hey baby." Someone calls from behind you.

Can't I just walk home without being hit on? One time?

"Not interested." You shout back, continuing to squish down the cracked sidewalks.

Three shadows peel off the wall of shops to your left blocking your path forward. Each is wearing a dark colored hoodie hiding their faces from view.

Is my luck really this bad? I never hear about Annie getting mugged or Hughie. And Hughie definitely looks wimpier than me.

"Don't be like that baby." The man behind you says.

You half turn your body so you can see all your supposed attackers at once. There are actually two men behind you, both wearing similar hoodies to the three now standing on your right.

Oh look they color coordinated their outfits… cute.

The man opens his mouth again.

"I'm gonna stop you right there." You hold up a finger. "I've been dealing with a horny 104 year old  geriatric man all day long. Please don't push me right now." It was an attempt to warn them, but you knew they probably wouldn’t listen to you.

No one ever does.

"Sounds like you need someone to relax with." The man smirks steeping forward to grab your arm. "I'd be happy to ease some of that tension baby."

"Look. I'm going to give you a chance to walk away. To avoid making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Because honestly you all have the worst luck in the world." You jerk your arm away from him.

"I like em feisty.” He purrs stepping forward again while the others laugh. “Come on baby-“

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You grab him around the throat, lifting him in the air like he weighs nothing, your eyes beginning to glow a brilliant green.

“I did try to warn you.”

"She's a supe!" He shouts struggling against your grip.

You throw him backwards into the other man standing to your right before facing the men on your left. Each one has pulled out a knife preparing to rush towards you.

"I get it. Y’all are out late, you bought matching outfits, but do we really have to-“

The first one rushes you, waving his knife through the air in a frantic dance. He doesn't get the chance to make contact with your arm. Vines erupt out of the pavement, breaking through the cracks in the concrete, binding themselves around the man who lets out a savage cry, quickly silenced while the vines continue to wrap around his body until there's nothing left but a mass of struggling green foliage on the pavement and some muffled screams.

He's lucky, could have had him dragged back under ground.

His friends stand there for a moment, eyeing one another as if they're not sure what just happened. You can practically see them trying to decide if you're still worth the trouble.

“Anyone else?”

The battle that follows is swift, the sound of cracking bones and the soft thud of punches landing echo over the soft patter of rain in the night as you dodge their blows and land your own against them. The vines continue to spread outward snatching up the men who fall to the ground in front of you, dragging each one up the street light above that sends yellowed light over the desolate streets. By now each bound body hangs from above like a sack of meat in a meat cooler, moving with the struggling men inside while the muffled cries shatter the still silence of the night.

Sometimes it's really too easy.

And as you begin to turn back someone grabs you by the hair, yanking you into their sweaty embrace. The leader's hot breath sticks to your cheeks, the cool metal of his switchblade pressing down so hard on your throat that you feel the pinprick of blood begin to form under the tip.

“What are you gonna do now bitch?” He snarls in your ear.

"Give you one more chance to surrender." You spit.

Like I'm going to give him the satisfaction of me begging for my life.

"I'm gonna enjoy this-" The man begins to say, pressing the knife deeper into your throat, but the rest of his sentence is cut off with a strangled cry as he's pulled away from you.

 What the hell just-

You turn around, freezing in shock.

Soldier Boy is crouching there in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans over the man who just had a knife to your throat. His fist rising and falling as he punches the man in the face.

"Don’t you ever touch her." Soldier Boy snarls. His fist is already covered in blood, the man’s face a mass of bloodied tissue and bone.

"Stop you're going to kill him-" You run forward to stop Soldier Boy, but he doesn't stop even when you try to grab on to his hand.

"I said STOP." You shout louder, this time manipulating a vine to wrap around Soldier Boy's arm and restrain it.

Fuck he might already be dead.

"Let me go." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow. The usual green was replaced by a darkened pit with his rage. You'd only ever seen him this mad a handful of times, one of which was when the supe tried to zap you like a fly in one of those insect traps two days ago.

Why is he angry?

"I'm not going to let you go, until you promise not to kill him."

"I should." He snarls back at you.

"What are you talking about?"

He stands from the body, eyeing the last attacker who runs full speed down the sidewalk and vanishes into the darkness.   "I should kill him for trying to hurt you." Soldier Boy says simply.

You wave your hand allowing the vine to let go of his arm. "Where do you come off so high and mighty? You literally tried to kill me last month."

"That was before I-" He shakes his head angrily, eyes still blazing.

"Look I don't need you to protect me. Given what I've had to deal with all day I was looking forward to kicking some ass."

"You did." He smirks nodding his head in the direction of the men hanging from the streetlamp above you. “I just thought that you were outnumbered.”

"Why are you here?" You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I wanted to go for a stroll." Soldier Boy shrugs. He flexes his hand, before wiping the blood on the front of the sweatshirt of the man on the ground.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't need you to protect me." You say again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I had this handled."

"You sure doll?"

"Look I get it- you think that you're some knight in shining armor because you have this macho complex. But I'm fine on my own." You begin to step around the bodies of the men on the ground moving in the direction of your apartment, but Soldier Boy follows you.

"Where do you think you're going?" You turn to look at where he falls into step beside you.

"You shouldn't be walking home alone."

"Well you're sure as hell not going home with me."

His lip turns up in a smirk, towering over you. Soldier Boy is easily a foot taller than you, so broad that it's impossible to look past his imposing figure. It would be attractive if he wasn't so damn annoying. "Come on sweetheart, I know you want me to go home with you." He purrs with a smile. "I think you'd really enjoy it if I did. And I'll even let you tie me up with those pretty vines of yours." Ben leans in towards your face and you take a step back.

"Hard pass. So what? Is this your big move? Acting all chivalrous just to get a woman into bed with you?"

"That depends, is it working?"

"No. Now go back to the apartment, before I send you there in pieces." You turn back to squish down the sidewalk at a faster pace, hoping he will get a hint and leave you alone. But you knew he wouldn’t stop. He practically thrived on teasing you, had been the bane of your existence since you met him. And nothing seemed to dissuade him.

"What is your problem with me?" He jogs to catch up. "And don't say that it's because I tried to kill you, that was last month-"

"I think that's applicable to this week and the week after that and the week after that." You count out with every finger to further emphasize your point, but you know that Soldier Boy won't give up that easy.

"Are you always this fucking angry?" He almost laughs.

"I don’t know. Are you always this fucking annoying?" You turn to face him narrowing your eyes.

Soldier Boy chuckles at your look, running a hand through his hair that has darkened in the spray of water, his green eyes watching you curiously. They were shinning now, not the blacked pits of hate they were when he was beating the guy two minutes ago. For a second, just for a second, you see how handsome he is all over again.

"Come on, give me a real answer and I'll leave you alone." He's smiling at you now, giving you one of those boyish grins that, if it were anyone else, would make your heart stop.

He just wants sex. He doesn't care about you. He won't ever care about you. Breathe.

"Fine." You sigh. "You might say you're a supe, but you're not a hero. People like you and Homelander, you don't care about anyone but yourself. You use your powers for you and on your own terms. You were going to kill that guy-" You gesture back towards where the body is still on the ground, the man's heart beat is dangerously low.

"He was threatening you. A thank you might be nice." Soldier Boy's cheeks flush as he glares down at you with darkened eyes, his anger surging back in his chest.

"Yes he was threatening me, but I'm okay and you could have just taken him to jail. You didn't have to beat his face in."

"So you're saying if he had been attacking someone else you wouldn't have done the same?"

"I would have subdued him and then waited for the police to get there. The men hanging from the streetlight aren't dead. We aren't the law-"

"Right so those guys can get off with a warning and then go on and do the same thing over and over again." He scoffs rolling his eyes at you.

"It doesn't give you the right to kill them."

"I suppose you don't believe in the death penalty either."

"I believe in the death penalty Gramps. I just don't believe it is our job to carry it out." Your temper was flaring against your skin distracting you from the chill of the rain as it soaked into your clothes.

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be saved by me?" Soldier Boy asks. He shakes his head as if he can't understand you.

You didn't blame him, most people didn't, that was why you spent most of your time alone.

"I'm not one of them. So leave me alone." You turn to go.

Honestly, why is this the kind of guy I attract? You roll your eyes to yourself. Oh you mean, tall, dark, handsome, gorgeous- The other little voice in your head whispers in your ear. NO. You tell yourself. Please I just want one guy who's not a total dick. Why is that so hard?

"I still don't think it's a good answer." He huffs.

"Of course you don't." You roll your eyes and begin to walk again. The streetlamps above send an eerie yellow glow over the parked cars along the road and over the crackled pavement. If Soldier Boy wasn't here bothering you, you might have stopped to admire the water as it splashed underneath the suspension bridge beyond the crowded buildings, but you wanted to get home. Without him if possible.

You glance over at Soldier Boy again. He looks normal right now, always does when he's not wearing his suit. And when he shut up you could see why people were so in love with him. It was when he opened his mouth that it reminded you exactly why you didn't like him.

You stop in front of your apartment building and force yourself to smile. "Thank you for walking me home." You say through tight lips, hoping that the false sincerity will make him leave.

He gazes up at your building with a frown. "This is a pretty shitty apartment building."

"Thank you. Not all of us inherited millions of dollars from our parents."

He pauses for a moment continuing to look up at the building, before he sighs loudly. "Look, I-." He sighs again. "I can't take listening to Annie and Hughie fucking. They go at it every night and she always makes the power go off."

You knew that already. It was another reason why you didn't like staying at the apartment, because listening to your best friend get railed by her boyfriend was not your idea of a good time.

You look up at Ben, and for a second you see a glimmer of the truth, just a flash of something that wasn't like the misogynistic attitude he usually had and it made you pause. He almost looked, sad and it made you feel bad for him. Of course you felt bad for him before, when you found out his entire team just gave him away to be experimented on and when probably the woman that he'd come the closest to loving really didn't care about him at all.

It must be incredibly lonely to come back to a world where almost everyone you know is dead. Guilt builds in your chest at the thought. I had lost my fair share of people, but not everyone in my life and I certainly didn’t learn about it on the same day.

"You know I think that's the first honest thing you've ever said to me." You say quietly shifting from foot to foot.

He half-smiles. "Maybe."

You chew on the inside of your cheek considering. You weren't afraid of him. You knew that with your powers you could take him. You were stronger than most and harder to kill. And despite the bad things you thought about him and knew about him, you kinda thought he was relatively harmless, well, you didn't think he was a rapist.

"Fine. But you're staying on the couch. And if I wake up and you're anywhere near my bedroom, I'll castrate you." You warn as walk up to the front doors and type in the code to unlock them, with Soldier Boy following behind you.

When you make it to the third floor, you raise one hand to stop him from going any further. It falls against his muscular chest and you fail trying not to admire how it feels beneath your hand.

Why am I so thirsty?

"If you wanted to grab my chest doll, all you had to do was ask-" Soldier Boy begins to say, but you raise the hand to cover his mouth.

"Shh." You hiss. "We have to be quiet or Mike will come out-"

"Who?" He asks, muffled against your hand.

You hear a door down the hallway creak open, spilling yellowed light onto the dark blue carpet of the hallway. "Shit. Too late."

Mike steps out of his apartment with a wide smile as soon as he sees you. "HEY y/n!" He crows, waving his free hand enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were getting in so late, but I wanted to give you this." Mike holds out a giant casserole dish filled with something that you can't identify. It's multi colored with multiple layers, one of which looks suspiciously like rice and the next layer looks like cake.

There's no way I'm eating that. Maybe if I force feed it to Soldier Boy he'll leave me alone.

Mike was your neighbor, your neighbor who had lived next door to you for the past 2 years and was shamelessly in love with you. And as sweet as he was, there were a few things that you couldn't get past, most namely that he lived with his mother and that he had a mullet.

One time you'd had a nightmare about it ripping itself from his head, breaking in to your apartment, and smothering you in your sleep.

Not fun.

"Hey Mike." You smile tightly at him, dropping your hand from Soldier Boy's mouth. "Yeah I'm sorry I was out with some friends."

"You should have asked me to come! I love your friends." Mike smiles so wide you're afraid that it's going to break his face. “Especially Butcher. He’s so funny. Always joking-"

Poor Mike.

Every time that Butcher had come over to talk shop, he would mock Mike endlessly. And Mike was just too sweet to realize it. Hughie was the only one who actively tried to be nice to Mike, but even he found it difficult. Annie was the worst though, she'd tease you constantly about what your children would look like and had taken to photoshopping mullets onto pictures of babies and sending them to you at inopportune times.

"Maybe next time." You cough out an awkward laugh while Soldier Boy snorts behind you.

You continue down the hallway towards your apartment, the door next to his, and hope that he'll go back into his home, but no such luck.

“My mom made this for you!” He holds the dish out towards you.

“Oh um that’s so nice of her. But I can’t except that-“

Mike's mother comes to stand in the doorway of their shared apartment. She was wearing a bright purple Mumu, her makeup caked thickly on her face and her eyes accentuated with bright blue eye shadow. “Sure you can sweetie. You’re Mike’s special friend.” She winks before trailing her eyes up and down your body. “And you’ve got such a cute little figure.” His mother does a little shimmy as if trying to get you to do the same.

Kill me now.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Soldier Boy purrs behind you.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You mutter back, knowing full well he can hear you with his super-hearing.

Oddly enough Mike does look suspiciously like his mother, they are both the same height, exactly three inches under you, and have the same mullet, but hers is a shocking blue-gray and his is jet black.

He blushes at her words. “Aww mom.”

Soldier Boy muffles a laugh before disguising it into a cough. You elbow him hard in the stomach.

“Well thank you.” You take the casserole dish with one hand, hoping that you can open the door and usher Soldier Boy in before he makes a comment. "I've had a long day and it's really late-"

“I helped her make this one.” Mike interrupts scooting closer to you, so close that you get a lungful of his terrible cologne, the one that the super sells for four dollars and smells like baby powder and Cheez-its.

“A man who can do it all.” Soldier Boy whispers to you.

Mike looks above your head as if noticing Soldier Boy for the first time. “Who’s that? I thought I knew all your friends.”

“He’s certainly very handsome-“ Mike's mother blushes from the doorway.

“Your brother?” Mike offers.

You can see his expression turn hopeful.

Probably thinking about how he can become friends with "said brother" and that will escalate our "relationship." 

“I’m Ben.” Soldier Boy says, stepping around you to shake Mike’s hand. “I’m y/n's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks bloom a bright pink, unable to respond to the ridiculous statement that he just made.

Murder. That's what sounds good right now.

“Oh.” Mike’s face falls. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” His eyes flick back to you, disappointment swimming in the irises.

You watch Mike’s hope begin to circle the drain.

“Well actually-“ You begin, but Soldier Boy interrupts you.

“Sorry I’ve been out of town for a while. We've been trying to do this long distance thing- you know how it is, late night phone calls-“ Ben trails off with a wolfish grin before dropping an arm around your shoulders. “But I just couldn’t take the long distance. Missed her too much. Phone call isn’t the same as sleeping in the same bed. Definitely not as satisfying. Not to mention there’s only so much my hand can do.”

Your cheeks bloom an even brighter red at his insinuation.  That’s when Soldier Boy does something even more unforgivable, he pulls you tighter against him and kisses you right there in front of Mike and his mother. The kiss is searing, making everything in your mind go blissfully blank. It had been so long since someone kissed you, since someone had held you this close to them without trying to kill you. His tongue teases your bottom lip and before you can stop yourself you open your mouth wider to let him in sighing softly against his lips, while you grip the front of his jacket.

For a moment you can’t remember why you didn’t want him to kiss you, why you denied yourself of this for so long. And then Soldier Boy's hand slides from your back to grab a handful of your ass.

Right.

You slap him so hard across the face that you're sure it would have broken the cheekbone of anyone who wasn’t a supe.

But Soldier Boy only grins wider, squeezing your butt again. “She knows that I like it a little rough.” He turns his lazy gaze back to Mike.

You open your mouth to cuss him out.

“Well we should probably get going.” Soldier Boy breezes. “Probably going to be a long night. If you know what I mean. But we’ll try to keep it down. Then again my girl's a little loud.” He winks at your poor neighbor who looks like he might cry, while his mother stands behind him fanning herself like Soldier Boy is everything she wants in a man.

He's ten for ten with the older ladies I'll say that.

“Oh right. Well I guess I’ll see you around y/n.” Mike turns to go.

“Mike wait-“ You try to say but he’s already vanishing through the door.

“Nice to meet you Mark.” Soldier Boy calls at his retreating figure, getting his name wrong on purpose.

You don’t even use your key to open the door you're so mad, the plants inside let you in. As soon as it opens, you haul Soldier Boy by the front of his jacket through the doorway and pin him to the wall just inside.

The casserole dish lands on your counter and by some miracle doesn’t break.

“What the hell is your problem?” Your hand is fisted in the front of his shirt, eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment.

He only grins. “You didn’t want me to play along? Sounded like that guy had been trying to get into your pants for a while. Unless he already has been or you want him to?"

You flush a deeper shade of crimson. "That is absolutely none of your business!"

“Well if we’re going to be living together doll, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“WE AREN'T LIVING TOGETHER I'M JUST LETTING YOU CRASH ON THE COUCH TONIGHT AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.” You shout.

“I think you’re gonna get pretty attached to me sleeping here. Maybe even  you let me sleep in your bed and even fu-“

You knock him back against the wall again. “If you finish that sentence I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“If you keep knocking me around, Mike's going to think you’re into some pretty kinky stuff.” Soldier Boy smirks down at you. “It’s actually turning me on a bit. Is it turning you on?”

“I don’t have to let you stay here.” You growl, releasing him.

“I think it’s because you like me.” He teases.

“I don’t.” You frown grows. “Okay couch is there goodnight.”

You point in the direction of the worn leather couch. You'd hauled it up three flights of stairs with Annie when you first moved in after you found a guy online selling it for nothing. And when you showed up to get it, he presumed to say it would be free if you let him take a picture of your feet. And after, when he had a black eye and a fun story to tell his wife, he gave you the couch for nothing as promised.

“No kiss goodnight?” Soldier Boy pouts his lips innocently.

“You already had one of those.” You snap thinking about slapping him again and trying hard not to think about how much you wanted to kiss him again.

Get a grip.

“Right. You liked it.”

“No I didn’t. And the next time you shove your tongue into my mouth I’ll bite it off.”

“You’re really violent for such a little thing.” Soldier Boy eyes you up and down as if sizing you up.

“And you’re really dick-like for someone who’s supposed to have the wisdom of the ages.” You turn towards the hallway intent on going to bed to avoid any more conversation with him.

"Whoa." You hear Soldier Boy say as he looks into your living room.

It was the reaction that everyone had when they entered your apartment. You had a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that you believed might be older than Soldier Boy. The kitchen and living room was mostly one room, the kitchen to the left with outdated appliances and a small circular wooden table with three chairs that served as your kitchen table and desk, and was separated by the large leather aforementioned couch that faced the wall that held two large windows. Beyond the front door was a small hallway that held the only bathroom in the apartment and your bedroom.

But that's not what was surprising.

Every open space in your apartment was covered in plants. There wasn't a single piece of unused space in your apartment. There were large standing monstera and fiddle leaf figs shoved into every corner and pots of dark green pothos bolted into the walls trailing vines to the ground so that every wall looked alive. Jasmine crept along the wall behind the tv that sat on an antique credenza between the two windows, sending the bright scent into the living room.

There was a large rectangular box bolted in the space above your sink where herbs and tomatoes hung down, probably a fire hazard, but you didn't care. The vibrant smell of mint, the spicy smell of rosemary, and soft tones of oregano and basil fused the air in your apartment with a life force that was impossible to ignore.

A large apple tree grew in a pot as big around as you next to the couch, with brilliant red apples hanging from it's branches, while a lemon tree and a tangerine tree intertwined their branches just behind the kitchen table.  The refrigerator, once white, was covered in the tangled vines of blackberry and raspberry, hanging with full fruit, while a potted strawberry plant sits prettily on top of the kitchen table, the bright red fruit enticing.

It was a lot. You knew it was a lot, but helping plants grow was the only thing you were good at, the only thing that felt right. One day you hoped that you could move somewhere and open a farmers market, but today you were stuck here, with Soldier Boy, who probably thought that you were crazy.

"I mean. I knew you had plant powers but this is-" He begins to say.

"A lot. I know." You roll your eyes. "The bathroom is down the hall." You gesture with your free hand towards the darkened hallway. "I guess I'll get you a pillow."

Ben is still looking around the room dumbfounded, as if he's never seen anything like this in his life, and he probably hasn't.

He's been in a Russian Lab for the past forty years, I mean he's probably not used to seeing anything this green.

You find the extra pillow in the linen closet along with one of the crocheted granny square blankets you made last year when Annie and you had a Jaws movie marathon, and a towel, before you move back into the living room.

Ben is still standing awkwardly by the couch as if he's not sure what to do, and it's the first time you've seen him look lost.

"Here." You throw him the pillow and the towel before you drape the blanket over the back of the couch. "One night."

"Why are you working for Butcher?"

"What?" The question catches you off guard. You were expecting him to make another pass at you, maybe check you out again. He was looking at you, but it was different, his gaze was softer, curious.

"You don't seem like you-" He gestures around the room. "Like you fit."

You blink for a second. "Um."

"I mean Annie used to be one of the Seven, Hughie does whatever the fuck Butcher tells him, but you you're different." His brow furrows together as if he can't figure you out.

"I really don't want to do this with you."

"This?" He looks confused again.

"Opening up with one another. You're here for one night. That's it." You force yourself to say, but the reality was you were still surprised, surprised that he actually seemed to care.

Stop. He's changing tactics because nothing else worked. He's pretending to care about you because he still wants to sleep with you.

"Please."

You can't answer for a second. It was the first time that he'd said that word in front of you before, or acted this way. It was also the first time that it had just been the two of you, before Butcher had been there or Frenchie or Annie and Hughie, but this was the first time that the two of you had been left alone.

Maybe that's why?

You hesitate before you answer, he was the last person you really wanted to open up to.

"I don't know, it's not all that bad." You shrug. "Before I didn't really use my powers all that much except like this." You gesture around the room for emphasis. "And when I went to college everyone was so serious about their futures and I didn't really like any of the classes. The only thing I enjoyed was using my powers at Please Don’t Die, the plant store I work at. And then Annie asked me to come help her out-" You bite your cheek. "She's my best friend and maybe I wanted to spend more time with her."

"But is it what you really want?" He cocks his head to the side, holding the pillow in one hand and the towel in the other.

You'd never seen him look so calm before, relaxed, like being here with you was washing away any anger or frustration he still had about the past. It was confusing, and at the same time you could feel your heart beginning to betray you. It was hard not to fall for him when he looked so good, eyes soft, dark hair falling into his eyes, clothes still dripping rain on your hardwood floors.

No. I will not fall in love with him, I will not fall in love with-

"Goodnight Soldier Boy. I'll see you in the morning." You turn to go, ignoring his final question.

"You can call me Ben." He almost whispers it, the sound of his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

"What?" You look back at him.

"You never call me Ben. But you can, if you want." He shrugs his shoulders, before he shakes his head as if he's annoyed with himself for suggesting it. "Never mind, just fucking forget about it-"

"Goodnight Ben." You feel the end of your mouth twitch up into a smile and with that you disappear into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

And deep down you know that it's not to keep him out, but to keep you in.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

If you liked this story be sure to read my follow up fic that takes place in the future:

Open Mic Night!

Or if you'd like to read another series please try:

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

If The Stars Wish It So

A/N: I know it's crazy to start another series right now, but I'm kinda feeling this reader and Ben together? What do y'all think about it?

A/N: Update I've made a huge mistake and started another series.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

(Photos for series picture from Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[fandom-lover2]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Miko has a bad day, and Optimus learns what body language is.

Word Count - 3040

-image not mine-

Today was… normal.

As normal as one could get when their guardian is a 20 foot tall metal warrior from another planet, but today hadn’t been any different than the others.

Woke up, got ready for Saturday (Ratchet’s favourite day because we were at the base all day) and hitched a ride with Bee and Raf to base.

We were the first humans here. Ratchet and Optimus were already hard at work at the monitors, scanning for energon and logging reports and doing whatever it was that they continuously did at those computers.

After exchanging greetings and brief conversation, Raf and I settled down while Bee waited for Bulk so patrol routes could be run.

It didn’t take long for the roar of a motorbike’s engine to fill the tunnel and Jack was rolling in on Arcee, Miko and Bulk close behind.

“Thought you had work today?” I called down to Jack, not moving from my spot at the desk with the human monitors where I was preparing to start my history essay on the similarities between Ancient Greek mythology and Shakespear (don’t judge, I find it interesting).

“Schedules got moved around. Apparently I’m ‘Working too much’ and they don’t want to pay me.” Jack replied, beginning up the stairs.

What followed was the sound of two Autobots transforming, and then silence.

I glanced over my shoulder, making sure Bulkhead had actually brought Miko. There she was, walking up the stairs behind Jack. I frowned, but turned back to my papers.

“Where to today, boss?” Bulkhead questioned.

“Once you have restocked your energon, we are going to northern Alaska. Our scanners have sensed an energon signal.”

“If it’s black, fight back.  If it’s brown, lie down. If it’s white, goodnight.” I warned jokingly to Jack and Miko, not looking up from my textbook.

For mid-April, Alaska would be warm enough now that they could go along and maybe not freeze. That also meant the bears would be out and about.

Me personally, as much as I wanted to tag along, this essay would take a while and with spring break around the corner, I didn’t have time to go off on excursions.

That’s why I came here to work on it, Ratchet would keep me from getting too distracted. I’d texted last night asking as much.

“Eh, I have some homework to catch up on.” Jack answered, and I heard him pull out the chair at the desk near the couch and get settled. Beside me, Raf was already lost to the world of coding and typing away on his laptop with ferocity.

I waited for three breaths, and then frowned when there wasn’t a reply. I spun in my wheelie chair, and watched as Miko sat down on the couch.

Ok, what was up?

Firstly, she didn’t sit anywhere, she flopped. And secondly, she never took up only one end of the couch. Usually, she dramatically lounged across it while whining that it was taking forever for Bulkhead to get ready so they could head out. And also, what was with the silence. Not even a sarcastic greeting to Ratchet.

Something was up with her. It wasn’t her birthday, wasn’t a Japanese traditional holiday she was missing, wasn’t school related cause yesterday she had a good day.

I glanced over at Jack and he was turned in his seat too, looking just as confused.

He caught my gaze and gave the ‘you see it too?’ look.

‘Yeah. What’s up with her?’ I shrugged subtly.

Jack raised his brows slightly, ‘I don’t know. She didn’t say anything to me.’

 I rubbed my lips together, my go to for thinking.

‘You should talk to her.’ Jack prompted, jerking his chin just a bit.

‘Me? Why me?’ I frowned.

‘Well I can’t. I’m a guy.’ Jack answered, looking down at his chest and then back up to me.

‘Fine.’ I agreed, rolling my eyes. Men are such weirdos.

With a sigh that didn’t need to be that dramatic, I got off my chair and made my way to Miko. On my journey, I happened to glance over and found Optimus watching me with an intense stare.

It was almost enough to make me stumble over my own feet.

I had long since given up trying to understand Optimus, mostly because there wasn’t much to understand. He was a simple guy, someone who carried a lot of weight on his shoulders and had only made it so far in life by concealing his emotions.

If he was pissed, you’d know it in the way he spoke. If he was at ease, he’d hang around a little longer in the common area before heading off to wherever it was he went. If he was stressed, he’d assign himself the longest patrol route so he’d have more time to get away. Easy as that.

This, open and intense studying, was a new one. A part of me wanted to ask, but I was on a mission already. Sky and ocean blue would have to wait.

As I got closer, it was obvious something was wrong. She sat hunched, eyes glued to the floor and hands folded in her lap. Her eyes were puffy and a little red, and she sniffed when I got close.

Crying, hunched over, hands in good posture… oh god. She was going back to Japan.

“Hey Meeks.” I greeted, sitting on the sofa beside her.

There was the long approach, of asking how she was, and then going through all the small talk. Or, I could ask it upfront and get this going. Knowing her, the only way to get it out was to hit her hard.

“What’s wrong?” She looked up at me, and as it always happens when someone asked ‘Are you ok?’ when you already aren’t, the water works started.

“They won’t let me dye my hair.”

Between the beginning to cry breaking her voice and the fact that she lunged at me, I only got some of the words before she was burying herself into my chest and sobbing. My arms wrapped around her, shuffling forward so I could pull her into my chest and cradle her closer.

“What?” I asked, needing to hear that again.

“My host parents.” I could faintly make out. “They won’t let me dye my hair.”

Her outburst had caused everyone to look at us, and Bulkhead was rushing over from the supply station, an adorably confused face that suited a toddler better than all 18 feet of him looking to me for the answers.

Either he didn’t know how to start this conversation, or he’d not seen something was wrong on the ride over. Either way, I was now being watched like the one with the answers.

Miko sobbed into my shirt again and I realized I was supposed to be doing something.

Ok, let’s back up to what she said. Her host parents wouldn’t let her dye her hair. Well, the pink was starting to wash out a little, leaving only the bleach behind. And, her hair had grown out a bit since our first meeting. And, based on what she’d told me about her host family, they did seem very ‘stick up the ass’ about this kinda thing.

Still, not letting her dye her hair. Come on, assholes. It’s part of who she was, her personality. It was just hair dye.

Miko sobbed again, and I continued to hold her close.

It was just hair dye, and yes it made her seem like a delinquent, but in the land of Freedom, let her live. No one was getting hurt.

“So fuck them.” I spoke, plain and simple.

“Y/n!” Jack chastised.

“What?” I demanded.

Miko had released me in her shock and was now sitting upright, wiping her tears.

I turned to Optimus. “Mind if I pull Bulk for a couple hours?”

He didn’t take long to consider it. “You may.”

I smiled back at him in thanks, standing and heading for my bag, which was left by my books. I paused just briefly, but then slammed my textbook closed and slung my bag onto my shoulder. I could do it later.

“Coming?” I asked Miko, making my way to the stairs and skipping down them.

“Where?” Miko asked, hesitant to follow.

“To buy hair dye.” I called over my shoulder.

I heard her gasp, then scramble to rush down behind me. Bulkhead transformed, opening his front doors for us.

Miko reached me as we got to the bottom of the stairs, slamming into me from behind and encasing me in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she repeated over and over.

“Yeah, yeah. Get in.” I redirected, shrugging her off.

“Bulk, play something awesome!” Miko instructed, rushing to get into his passenger seat. A moment later, something metal and ear assaulting blasted from his speakers.

I regretted this already.

---

I, thankfully, got to choose the music on the ride back, so Elle King announced our arrival back to the base.

Bulk pulled to a stop and we jumped out his cab, me pulling the two plastic bags with us.

Miko took off into the base, not a glance back as she shouted “Come on!”

I had one pit stop to make before we commandeered the bathrooms.

“Jack!” I called, jerking my head for him to meet me halfway as I started up the stairs.

He did, and I handed over the second bag.

“What’s this?” he asked, glancing inside to find soda, candy and some bags of chips.

“Do not disturb tax. We’re having a girl’s day.”

Spinning on my heels, I marched back down the stairs and made my way into the base.

---

I flopped onto the old chair with a groan, my back protesting. Three hours of standing was not easy.

But hey, Miko has bright pink ends and was currently kicking Raf’s ass at Mario Cart, so it was worth it. Kinda.

This shirt had been one of my favorites and now it was bleached to all hell.  And my ears were still ringing from the speaker we’d used.

But hey, karaoke was the bomb. Totally worth it.

I moved my hands to rest on my back, using them to lean backwards and stretch my spine.

Primus, what time was it anyway?

Jack had left a couple hours ago for his shift and said his mom had made us stuff for dinner that’d he bring back. Miko and Raf would be getting ready to head home soon.

Jack and I would probably spend the night. June had nightshift and my parents were out of town again so there wasn’t a reason for either of us to make the trip back.

Spinning the chair around, I opened my textbook again. Interlacing my fingers and giving them a crack, I started up my laptop and got busy.

At first I struggled to find a point to start on, but once finding a cool quote online, the words started flowing and flowing.

I apparently missed Raf and Miko’s goodbye and Jack’s arrival because the next thing I knew, Ratchet was using a digit to cover my screen.

“Oi!’ I turned to glare up at him.

“I understand all the well putting your health aside for a project, but you need food and sleep.”

I glanced down at my phone and tapped the screen, 11:34pm shining back at me.

Oh scrap, I had been here for almost 4 hours. How was that even possible?

I looked around the base. Optimus was watching with just as much concern as the medic, Jack asleep on the couch already. Well that explained why my eyes were burning and why my stomach ached so fiercely.

“Yeah, ok.” I conceded, rubbing my eyes. “Lemme just save this quick.”

Ratchet relented, moving his digit so I could quickly save the document before gently closing my laptop.

Standing, almost every bone and joint in my body cracked. Ratchet cringed, having verbally stated his hate when I did that many times before.

Barely having enough energy to shuffle, I made my way to where ‘dinner’ sat cold. Eh, lasagna was better cold anyway.

Grabbing a plastic fork, I ate straight from the glass dish, barely able to keep my eyes open. Ratchet wished me a goodnight and I returned the sentiment between yawns.

I had just finished all I was going to eat and was preparing to get settled on the smaller sofa when Optimus walked over and held out his servo for me. No need to tell me twice.

I climbed abord and let him carry me to his room. When we got there, he sat on his berth, and then swung his legs over and got settled on his back while I situated myself on his chestplates.

The pillow and blanket that were left in his room for occasions like this were brought up for me and I thanked him, curling in onto him.

Yeah, I slept on his chest when I slept over. And yes, it was extremely dangerous but he was yet to roll over in his sleep and kill me so we’d keep doing it.

“Y/n,” he started.

I hummed in the form of a reply for him to continue, fluffing my pillow.

“You planned to do your school work earlier, but then when Miko confessed her distress, you abandoned your work to help her. Why?”

What kinda question was that?

“She needed me.” I answered simply, shifting slightly so I could look him in the optics. “I could always do the work later. She needed me then.”

Optimus seemed to accept that answer. “How did you know she was in trouble?” I went to answer, but he continued. “And those actions you and Jack exchanged, almost as if you were having a conversation, but without words. How was that possible?”

I huffed a laugh, getting settled once again and closing my eyes. “Body language. We could read each other through our actions, and those translated into words. Same thing with how Miko was acting. She wasn’t talking, sitting by herself, hunched into herself. She was sad. Jack shrugged, meaning he didn’t know why.”

I paused, thinking of how I could possibly explain it any further and found there really wasn’t much more I could say. Body language just was.

Thinking back on it, the bots never really did speak through body language. All conversations were verbal, and I’d never seen them silently gesture to one another before.

There wasn’t really a way to explain it to someone. You could explain some of the actions, but it was so ingrained in human culture, it was never a need explain. It was the universal language, though now I guess it was only the human language.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” I said through a yawn, settling down further into his warm metal.

“Rest well, My Spark.” Optimus agreed, bringing up his servo to settle over me.

I drifted off to sleep moments later, the sound of his spark beating steadily in my ear.  

----

“You are… cold.” Optimus finally settled on his answer, which was so far from the correct answer Miko and Raf dissolved into giggles.

Jack looked wounded. “Am I that bad at acting?” he lamented, giving up and walking away.

The intended action was bored, or uninterested, but to the Cybertronian warrior, somehow sitting with a sigh and resting your head on your fist meant being cold.

These lessons were taking a lot longer than I thought they would, and apparently more coaching than I’d imagined.

Body language was seriously something none of the bots knew. In fact, Ratchet had laughed at the concept until I’d explained to him some of the common actions we did.

He then grumbled about how these pointers would have been helpful when dealing with Agent Fowler, like it was our fault no one debriefed him on human mannerisms.

“Bored. He was bored.” I answered, standing too. This was not going well.

“He is not the only one.” Arcee mumbled.

I turned to glare over at her. “No one asked you to join in.” I muttered even softer than her quip.

“You don’t like Arcee.” Optimus blurted out.

Jack barked out a laugh so hard he missed the chair he was aiming for and hit the floor. Miko and Raf dissolved into more giggles.

“Well that only took 6 months.” I sighed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea anymore.

The blue and pink stabby stabby femme turned to look at me, her optics narrowed. I looked away to avoid her gaze.

No doubt this would come back to bite me in the ass later on.

“You are embarrassed.” Optimus helpfully decided to test his knowledge.

He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t too embarrassed. I wasn’t trying to hide my dislike for her. But being called out in front of her by him was a little harsh.

“Good work, Optimus.” I rewarded his observation. The proud little smile he awarded himself was too adorable.

All jokes aside, we were making some progress. And once I’d see the bots use some of our gestures when they’d been sneaking up on ‘Cons and couldn’t talk.

In some ways, us humans were actually helping out there. And teaching these ancient bots something new.

And Optimus was like a little puppy, so excited to learn more and prove his skills, which were still in development but he was getting there.

We still had to work on his ability to read the room, and when to keep his observations to himself.

But we’d get there.

To save everyone from the embarrassment, the tones sounded for energon signals being picked up.

“Time to roll!” Miko cheered, like she going to go anywhere.

“Sit down.”

“You are authoritative.”

“Optimus, just go out… there, somewhere!” I snapped, gesturing to the opening portal.

This was seriously turning into something I regretted.

The Prime walked over to his screen, and made a plan with his team, and then just before slipping through the groundbridge, he turned to me and said, “You are annoyed.”

“Optimus!” I picked up an empty soda can and yeeted it towards him.

I seriously needed to rethink this decision.

[swappedandtrapped]

Swapping Research - Part 3

Read part 1 here Read part 2 here

"Fix this." Marcus's voice—Tyler's voice—cracked as he grabbed Alex's shoulders. "Whatever you did, undo it. Now."

Alex stepped back, her face tight with conflict. "It's not that simple. The quantum entanglement that facilitates the transfer has been modified. Tyler asked me to—"

"Show me!" Marcus pointed toward her computer. "Show me exactly what you changed. Now!"

"I can explain," Tyler said, the familiar features of Marcus's face contorted with unfamiliar desperation. "You still have a body, a life. I'm not taking everything."

"Not everything?" Marcus laughed bitterly. "Just my future. My medical school. My brain."

"My procedure wasn't designed for permanent transfer," Alex said quietly, pulling up complex neural mapping on her monitor. "But Tyler convinced me the research value was—"

"Research value?" Marcus stared at her. "You're using us as lab rats?"

Alex's shoulders slumped. "You don't understand. My brother Michael, after his car accident… He's trapped in a body that doesn't work while his mind is intact. This technology could help thousands like him."

"So you used us."

"I used the opportunity," she corrected. "And Tyler was—"

"Show me what you changed," Marcus demanded again.

Alex pulled up a complex neural diagram. "The initial transfer created quantum entanglement between your neural signatures. For temporary transfer, the entanglement naturally degrades. For extended transfer…" She pointed to a modified segment. "I stabilized the entanglement and introduced a selective degradation algorithm that reinforces Tyler's signature in your original brain."

"And destroyed the original components of the device," Tyler added quietly.

Both Alex and Marcus turned their heads to Tyler. Marcus felt the floor drop beneath him. "You what?"

Alex interjected. "This isn't what we talked about Tyler. What the hell?"

"I can't go back," Tyler said, voice breaking. "You don't know what it's like, Marcus. For the first time in my life, I can think without fighting my own brain. I read an entire textbook yesterday. Just sat and read it, front to back, and understood everything." His eyes, Marcus's eyes, gleamed with tears. "Do you know what that feels like? To be smart after a lifetime of drowning?"

"And I'm supposed to live in your body? With your basketball scholarship I can't maintain? With your father constantly on your back?" Marcus's hands shook with rage. "My medical school interview is Monday!"

"I'll nail it," Tyler said. "I've been studying your notes, practicing with your flash cards. This brain, your brain, it remembers everything. First try."

"It's my future!" Marcus grabbed a nearby monitor and hurled it against the wall. The unfamiliar strength of Tyler's arms sent it crashing with far more force than intended. "My life! My parents' sacrifices!"

Alex stepped back, eyes wide. "Marcus, please—"

"My parents immigrated with nothing. Worked double shifts for my education." The words came out in a roar, Tyler's voice filling the small lab. "And you're stealing everything they worked for!"

"You get to be athletic, popular," Tyler countered. "People respect you now. They listen when you talk."

"I don't want that! I want MY life!" Marcus swept his arm across a desk, sending equipment clattering. The physical release felt alarmingly good in Tyler's body, the raw strength an outlet for his despair.

"Marcus, stop!" Alex moved between him and the equipment. "Violence isn't going to solve this."

"What will, then? Tyler destroyed the components." The fight drained from him suddenly, replaced by hollow despair. "I'm trapped."

"Not trapped," Tyler said. "Just… different. I can help you navigate my life, the basketball—"

"Stop talking." Marcus sat heavily. "Monday is the Kellerman interview. The program that's accepted three students in five years. The entire reason I—" He stopped, overcome. "My parents are flying in to celebrate after. They think it's guaranteed."

Tyler's expression changed, a subtle shift in Marcus's features. For a moment, something like guilt crossed his face. He looked away. "I'm sorry, Marcus. I didn't have a choice."

"You had a choice," Marcus whispered. "You just made the selfish one."

---

One month later, Marcus sat on the bench during a crucial conference game, his knee wrapped tightly, watching his team lose without him. His Coach had benched him after weeks of declining performance.

"Reeves, what the hell happened to you?" Barrett had demanded after Marcus missed yet another defensive assignment. "It's like you forgot how to play over summer."

How could Marcus explain that muscle memory wasn't enough? That Tyler's instincts were fading while his own analytical approach couldn't compensate? That each day, his connection to his original life slipped further away?

His phone vibrated. Tyler, checking in with artificial cheer, maintaining the pretense that this was temporary, a research extension: Got the med school acceptance letter today. Your parents are ecstatic. Your mom cried.

Marcus pocketed the phone without responding. Tyler called less frequently now, their conversations strained. What was there to say? "Thanks for maintaining my GPA while I lose your scholarship"? "Enjoying my parents' pride while yours threatens to disown me"?

---

After the game, Marcus returned to Tyler's apartment—his apartment now—and stared at the anatomy textbook he'd been trying to study. The words blurred and swam, his new brain struggling with the complex terminology that once came naturally. Trapped in Tyler's dyslexic patterns, he couldn't retain the information that had once been effortless.

Worse than the academic loss was the sense of his own identity dissolving. He'd catch himself using more of Tyler's phrases, laughing at more jokes he wouldn't have understood before, responding to Tyler's name without hesitation. His memories of childhood felt increasingly distant, replaced by physical memories embedded in this body, how to execute a perfect jump shot, how to charm a date with a specific smile, how to deflect a father's cutting criticism.

He couldn't remember his mother's birthday last week. He'd forgotten the Mandarin phrases his grandmother had taught him.

Even in his dreams, he was Tyler now.

He tried reciting the bones of the hand, his old calming ritual. "Trapezoid, trapezium…" The third bone eluded him. Had it been lunate? Hamate? The anatomical terms that once ordered his anxious mind were slipping away.

His phone rang again. Tyler.

"Hey," Marcus answered, too exhausted for anger.

"Just checking in." Tyler's voice was careful, controlled. "Alex wants more data on our adaptation progress."

"Tell her my adaptation is going great," Marcus said bitterly. "I'm failing Kinesiology despite living in a athlete's body. Forgot my own mother's birthday. Can't read more than ten pages without the words scrambling."

Silence stretched between them.

"I never meant—" Tyler began.

"Yes, you did," Marcus cut him off. "You saw a chance and took it. I just never thought you'd sacrifice my future for yours."

"I was drowning," Tyler whispered. "Every day."

"And now I am." Marcus stared at the basketball on his living room floor. "Congratulations on med school. My parents must be thrilled."

"They are." The quiet pride in Tyler's voice, using Marcus's voice, was unbearable. "Your dad called me 'son' yesterday."

Something broke inside Marcus. "Don't call again," he said. "We're not researching anymore. We're not friends. You're living my life, and I'm disappearing into yours. Just… let me fade away in peace."

He ended the call and picked up the anatomy textbook again, staring at meaningless symbols on the page. He tried once more to remember the bones of the hand, a final desperate attempt to hold onto the person he had been.

But the stranger in his head had already taken up residence, and Marcus Chen was gradually becoming a memory that even he couldn't fully recall.

[ablobwhowrites]

Another y/n idea but I rewatched the Lego movie recently

MEGA YAP SESSION COMING UP

I love this Benny from the Lego movie dude. And was thinking of a y/n who is basically like Benny cause I think he's very neat and I don't know if I should make this y/n a superhero or just a weird little guy who has powers but just prefers to be in space sometimes.

This y/n can be used it other ideas for yandere stories but I'll keep this one open for any as one I thought of was cookie run, sonic?, digital circus, transformers?, and other stuff that I didn't put here but here's the first idea or concept of how this y/n kind is

Cause the first idea for this y/n who's like Benny the astronaut guy is for yandere cookie run stuff. Just him getting so excited about the cookies letting him build a spaceship or if anything space related that the cookies wanna know and y/n will yap about it and the cookies love all the cheerfulness y/n has and how like Benny in the Lego movie can just fly or float around but y/n keeps his space suit and no one knows why but leaves it cause y/n is happy (y/n probably has multiple of the same suit in his closet) so the tailor and fashion cookie give y/n clothes and stuff but he doesn't really wear it but does keep his space suit clean and once was caught in their pajamas while cleaning their space suit but the cookie never told a soul about it and the cookie was Caramel Choux Cookie who got worried when she saw upset y/n was about the big stain on his suit but got it properly washed because washing it the regular way wasn't getting the stain out.

Y/n is trying to repair his space ship as his friends the other astronaut are in space waiting for him to come back but oddly the supplies he got is always disappearing and the metal for his ship which frustrates y/n a lot and to bad their comlinks to the others doesn't work mysteriously as it was working yesterday and oddly something looks like it chewed the wires. Y/n gets so excited about gifts as all of them are space themed and it reminds him of home with his other friends as he feel some what homesick as he misses being at the base with his friends, going to collect rock samples to study, be in the cafeteria just to chat and hangout then being able to stare out the big windows to the stars and so much more but he tries to keep a good attitude about it as he will fix the ship and go back home! Eventually as there's much to do on earthbread than he thought and what the cookies say as well.

Y/n sometimes just spaces out and it worries some cookies who didn't know y/n did that but the others are fine with it as y/n just snaps out of it quickly after a few minutes or if his name is called. Y/n doesn't gets frustrated just like Benny does in the movie with the computer not listening. Y/n pulls the same expression when he gets frustrated with something not working the way it's supposed to or if he is just and the cookies find it adorable how y/n looks when frustrated but then help anyways they can if y/n let's them. Y/n floats around a lot sometimes and cookies who can fly just make sure y/n doesn't float to far away because that once happened before and was found on top of the cookie kingdoms rooftop at the tallest point and needed help down.

(That's it for my little yap session for today. If you guys like it and want more please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's you want! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

sending him a naughty pic

(cw: age gap 25/41, naughty pics, sexting, masturbating in a bathroom, mdni)

part before: listening to music in his car

In the morning, when I wake up, the first thing I do is send König a message. And a naughty one at that. I lift my phone over my body and my shirt over my boobs, trying to get a good shot. After a few clicks of my camera, I choose one of the pictures, tits on full display, a slight smile on my face, and send it to him with the caption “early morning thinking about you”.

Then I get up and get myself ready to go to work. While I drink my coffee, my phone dings. Twice in quick succession.

👑 thinking about you as well

And a picture of his morning wood poking out of his black boxers which has me on the floor.

God damn it, this man is going to be the end of me.

I hop into the car and shoot him a message before I drive to work.

me: you not gonna do anything about that?

The little ding of my phone while I’m still driving sends a shiver of excitement. I pull myself together and wait to look at the message when I pull into a parking space at work.

👑 about what?

Oh, he’s acting coy now. A stupid little smile forms on my lips as I make my way to my desk. Wrecking my brain what to say next.

me: well, you’re clearly happy to see me… if i was there i’d already have my hand wrapped around you

I press send, feeling very cheeky right now, but I try to shake the blush from my face. I check my emails, answering the most pressing ones, waiting impatiently for his answer. Ding. Ding.

👑 you mean like that?

His boxers are pulled down now, his hand wrapped around his girth. My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes fixed on the picture, taking in every little detail. The black sheets underneath him, the happy trail on his lower stomach, the little vein popping out. The piercing on his tip that has me wondering how it would feel to lick over it.

me: yes just like that although… i couldn’t resist running my tongue all over it taking you in my mouth

Oh fuck, I’m fully sexting at work right now.

👑 yeah? you sure it would even fit? texting with one hand is hard

The last message makes me chuckle.

me: we won’t know until i try… or maybe my hands will need to do all the work while i lick just the tip

I’m feeling hot all over while I send the message, putting the device away like it’s burning me and trying to calm down while I stare at computer screen in front of me.

Just one Ding. I look at my phone and it’s a fucking video. I groan inwardly, looking around. There’s almost nobody here, but I can’t risk being seen watching this on my phone. I quickly grab my headphones and head to the toilet for some more privacy, locking myself in one of the stalls, lowering the lid, using it as a seat.

He sent another message in the meantime.

👑 i can’t stop thinking about yesterday

Yesterday when we fucked in the back of his car. Needy and quick, almost fully clothed. So hard, the whole car was shaking.

His words make me tingle all over, while I hurriedly put my earbuds in, intently staring at the screen as I press play, anticipation halting my breath.

The black boxershorts are gone now, but I can’t help notice them lying beside him on the also black sheets, before my attention gets pulled in by the - uhm - matter at hand.

His strong big hand is moving up and down his length, softer than I would have imagined. Pulling back his foreskin, lazily pumping up his dick. His thumb grazes over the exposed tip, playing with his piercing for a little bit. I want to do that as well, is the thought that floods my mind. Preferably with my tongue. A little bead of precum forms at the top, running down his length, before his fingers stroke over it.

He pulls his hand away for a moment, and I can hear him spit. I groan. Fuck. His fingers grip his cock again, coating it in his own saliva, jerking himself faster now. The grunts and heavy breaths… he isn’t holding back at all. “Fuck.”, he sighs, and hearing him, so close, makes all of this even hotter.

And it feels dirty, but I can’t help it, my hand wanders down to my pants, hastily opening the button, lowering my zipper, my fingers disappearing into my panties, until they find my pussy. Fuck, I’m so wet, holy hell. I bite my lip to stifle any moans as I push into myself, the memories of him doing that heightening the sensations… while I wish it was him again, touching me like this.

Knowing that he is touching himself thinking about me, thinking about what we did yesterday… is turning me on. His little video, with the soft moans and the grunts, isn’t helping either. I press play again, his sounds right in my ear are spurring me on, my fingers frantically strumming over my clit now.

The visuals of him fucking his fist, the memories of him fucking me from the back, his hands digging into my hips, the slaps of skin against skin, our panting breaths...

And when I hear the little “Fuck” again, his voice deep and husky, I cum, pressing my lips together not to make a noise, while my fingertips still stroke over my wet folds. When it subsides, I finally dare to breathe again. This… was definitely something I didn’t anticipate when I came to work today, but I can’t keep the little dirty smile from my lips.

I snap a picture, with my fingers still buried deep inside me, so he knows I touched myself as well. Then I type out the message that has been circling my mind those last few minutes.

me: wish those were your fingers inside me instead

His answer comes quickly.

👑 fucking perfect

A slight smile on my face and a little tingle down my spine I’m still sitting on the put-down toilet lid, feeling the cold tiles against my shoulderblades. I just try to breathe calmly and get rid of the blush that’s surely staining my cheeks, so I can go back to work.

Ding. Ding. I straighten back up in an instant, unlocking my phone, looking at the chat.

👑 you made a total mess of me

A photo attached of his hand and dick, sticky with his cum, little pools of the white liquid on his abs and tummy.

me: and i would clean it all up 👅 👑 you’re killing me me: the french don’t call it la petite mort for nothing 👑 don’t bring the french into this

I have to cover my mouth to not fully burst out into laughter, but our little back and forth pulls me from the naughty little situation and I get out of the stall. I make my way back to my desk, my ears still burning, my cheeks bright red, and sit down on my chair, because those emails won’t answer themselves. I send him another picture of me in this state, obvious that I’m at work and still very flustered.

me: you got me like this at work so don’t ever doubt my interest in you again, big guy

👑 i’m not doubting anything anymore, promise

And he has the nerve to also send me a picture of him, lying there in his bed, against his cushions. One arm holding up the phone, the other one tangled in his hair, deliciously showing off his tattooed biceps. His strong pecs peppered with dark hair. His lips are curled into a satisfied smirk and there is just the lightest blush on his cheeks, that I’ve been noticing on him after he’s just cum. And the lids are hooded a bit, his bedroom eyes gazing into the camera, the familiar mischievous spark in them. Fuck, can he stop being this dreamy?

👑 so, speaking about my fingers inside you… can i kidnap you to my humble abode this evening?

I chuckle a little, but the message only intensifies the blush on my face, while it simultaneously makes me also type faster.

me: yes pls, i would very much like that

next part or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

thanks to @notknickers who i told about my ideas for this little chapter and they gave me even more ideas <3 to our blorbos!

[twoidiotwriters1]

Spider-Man says what? –(Peter Parker xReader)

Summary: At first I was "Guys, I think Parker is Spider-man" as a joke... but I don't think it's a joke anymore. Words: 2,354 A/N: Read this as an early 2000's romcom because that's the universe I chose for it -Danny

"All I'm saying is, I've never seen Peter Parker and Spider-man in the same room," you say, grinning stupidly as you do anything but work.

Betty looks up at you from her computer screen with a dead stare. "Why are you so obsessed with Parker?"

You sputter, blushing against your will. "I—What? I'm not obsessed!" You scoff. "You brought him up!"

"No, I said, 'I need the stupid pictures of yesterday's manifestation outside the MET and all JJ cares about is getting one of Spider-man flashing his butt.' I never said his name, you were the one who started to ramble about how Peter hasn't been here in a week despite how active Spider-man's been around the city."

"Whatever," you pout, stepping away from her cubicle grumpily. "Here I am trying to make your work day bearable and this is how you thank me."

"Y/N, I'm honestly tired of hearing you ramble about this guy, if you like him just tell him, you're a grown adult."

"I do not have a crush on—Parker!" Your voice falters and turns squeaky as you turn to your seat and see the young photographer walking past your cubicle.

He stops and smiles, noticing you only after you squeal his last name. "Hi, Y/N, how's it going? Hey, Betty, what's new?"

"Not much," she says, already going back to editing her column, "Y/N thinks you're Spider-man."

It's Peter's turn to let out a loud, nervous laugh. "What? That's crazy—Y/N, don't be crazy, I can't be Spider-man, I wear glasses."

You stare at him. "Contact lenses exist, Parker."

He giggles. "Contact lenses, you're so funny—anyway, is Jameson available?"

"You got Spidey-pics?"

"A few."

"Then he will be," You step forward, holding onto any excuse to avoid working. "I'll take you, I kind of need a bit of JJ's screaming to feel alive, currently."

"Thanks," Peter waves at your friend. "See you later, Betty." She waves briefly without looking up from the screen.

"Don't mind her," you brush her off, "she's pressed because an intern was supposed to take pictures of yesterday's protest and bring them here but it's been radio-silent."

Peter frowns with concern. "The one outside the MET?" You nod. "I think your photographer is in the hospital with a broken leg, Y/N."

"WHAT?" You halt right outside of JJ's office as he says that.

"Yeah, some guys showed up and tried to steal stuff while the protesters were outside, it got a bit out of control and took the photographer as a hostage—tossed him from a moving car while trying to escape and... well, Spider-man wasn't fast enough."

He looks sincerely sorry for the situation. That's one of the things you like best about Peter, he always seems to care deeply about everything, even when he's got nothing to do with it. That's not an easy way to be while living in New York.

"You two parrots better come in or get the hell away from my office, you're too loud!" JJ's scream brings you to the present. 

"I better go tell Betty we got a hospital visit to make—good luck with Jameson," you smile briefly before going away.

"Yeah, thanks," Peter says, his concerned gaze lingering on you as he wonders what could you possibly know about Spider-man.

When your boss said you were all invited to the charity event, you were picturing a sort of fancy dress, handsome men, elegant food type of situation. Not that you'd been hired to cover the event, and so it's comfortable clothing, a bossy hostess telling you not to get too close to the guests' tables, and whatever you can buy with ten dollars from the convenience store down the street.

It's even worse when the villain-of-the-week shows up and tries to steal whatever amount this rich crowd is giving away to charity, and as usual, the loaded crowd is the one that gets evacuated first. Spider-man shows up, and if that wasn't nerve-wracking enough, turns out you are the hostage of the week!

It's all a blur, honestly, you get tossed around, get lots of scratches—don't even count the bruises—and oh, your phone got smashed to bits! But of course, friendly neighbourhood spidey makes sure you survive the ordeal, so a win it's a win.

He carefully leaves you right outside the venue, you're unable to see any kind of facial gesture thanks to his mask, but the way his head tilts and he shifts his weight from one foot to another tells you he's checking if you're not dying.

"I'm alright," you say casually, "might quit my job after this, though."

The hero looks up at you and pauses. "That bad, eh?"

His voice rings a bell, but then again you're probably concussed, so you don't dwell on it. "You good, spidey?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm good, I'm good." The guy stumbles over his words as if he's not used to people asking that.

You hum. "Cool. Well, I better go to the ambulance to get my ribs checked—Oh, and Parker!" You say suddenly.

"Excuse me?" He chokes out.

"My friend, Peter Parker," you clarify, not thinking much of his reaction. Again, your head got hit many times tonight. "About this wee tall, brown eyes—hot in a dorky way? If you see him tonight tell him he deserves better than Jameson's piss-poor commissions. I'm sure the Times would give anything to have a close shot of your butt."

Spider-man stands very still before you. "Okay."

"Bye," you say, having a bit of trouble walking straight before reaching the ambulance.

Peter shows up at the office the very next day, holding a small bag of paper in his hands.

"Parker!" Betty greets him, in a better mood than she was weeks ago. "Got all the best angles of last night's disaster?"

"No, actually, but I heard you took a beating, Y/N," he hands you the paper bag. "Came to see how you were."

You blush, taking the bag bashfully. "Thanks. I'm fine, really, nothing too bad, at least I'm not dead." 

"God, don't even joke about that," he says gravelly. 

"Sorry, sorry. I'm alright, thank you for checking on me," you soften at his reply, then peek inside the bag to see a tasty-looking pastry. "Oh my god, I love you," you blurt out, pulling out the sweet and taking a big bite from it.

Betty notices the way Peter's cheeks redden slightly and grins knowingly, deciding to help out. "Weren't you just heading to your break, Y/N?"

"Hm?" You look up chewing. 

"Take Parker with you, if JJ sees him here empty-handed he'll throw a fit."

You and Peter lock eyes, unsure of what to say now that Betty has placed the offer.

"If you want—"

"I don't want to intrude—"

“—I'm cool with it—"

"—only if you're sure—"

"Okay." You both say at the same time.

You exit the building together, catching up like you haven't been able to in a long time. He tells you about his aunt, and you listen intently, laughing as he tells you about the new boyfriend she's got and how awkward it's getting now that he can no longer show up unannounced at his aunt's home unless he wants to risk catching them in the middle of a heated moment.

You share more about yourself as well, and as you wait in line at the coffee shop, you tell him about your long-term projects and how annoying your roommate is sometimes. Once you're both holding a coffee and seated at one of the tables outside, he gets a little bolder.

"I have a confession to make," he says carefully.

"Hm?" You take a sip of your coffee.

"I did manage to snap a few shots of last night's incident—but I'm not sure I want to sell them."

You frown. "Why not? Jameson pays you more for the pictures in action than he does of random pics of him around the city."

"Yeah, but you're in them," he shrugs, making a face, "I don't sell the pictures with civilians in them, feels wrong—it's a scary thing, to be in the middle of all that, I don't like taking advantage of people's suffering."

You look at him with adoration. "God, Peter, we're not worthy of you."

"Don't tease me," he blushes and shakes his head, laughing briefly. 

"I'm not," you continue with a soft smile. "I really admire you. I just... it's so weird, to meet a person that's so genuinely... kind."

He locks eyes with you, and on a whim, he leans forward on his chair and asks in a soft, tentative voice. "Would you go out with me?"

It's been two steady months of dating the one and only Peter Parker, and you think it's about time you take a risk—or give him a nice surprise, at least. And what's better surprise than an impromptu dinner at his apartment?

You use the spare key he gave you not so long ago and get in quietly even though you know he's not home, at this hour he's usually out, trying to get Spider-man candids for Jameson. You work diligently, using his tiny kitchen to the best of its capacity and coming out with a rather decent dish.

You're just finishing setting up the table when you hear a noise in the bathroom that makes you pause. Listening closely, you stay still while someone moves behind the door and curses under their breath, then tug the door open and walk out taking off... my god, taking off a Spider-man mask.

You stare wide-eyed as Peter distractedly pulls the fabric off his head and then holds it between his teeth while he takes off the gloves, he's only taken one off when he freezes too, and slowly, raises his gaze to where you're standing. You stay put, both of you caught off guard, with the same dumbfounded expression. The mask falls from his mouth onto the floor with a light thud.  

"Oh my god," you say at last, mouth slack and eyes unblinking. 

"Y/N," he starts as if talking to a cornered animal, raising his hands in a soothing gesture. "I can explain."

"I'm sure you can," you reply, remembering to breathe, "I just don't think I'm going to hear anything that comes out of your mouth while you're wearing that."

He glances down at his suit and then back up at you. "Because I look too good in it?" He hopefully asks.

"Because you're fucking Spider-man, Peter," you reply plainly. "Scratch that, I'm fucking Spider-man!"

He hushes you frantically, closing the distance between you by jumping over the couch in such a dextrous manner that it startles you. "Don't go around screaming that!"

"Oh my god, have you always been able to do that?" You ask in disbelief. "I saw you trip over the bed the other night!"

He brushes it aside with annoyance. "It's a whole thing, really, my senses are selective—I can explain!"

You steeple your fingers in front of your mouth. "My boyfriend is Spider-man..."

"You are in shock, and that's super valid," he continues, stepping closer while still holding an arm in front of him as if fearing you'll throw something at him. "Please don't be mad at me."

"You broke our photographer's leg!"

He frowns and drops his hand. "Hey, those guys dropped him from a moving car, that wasn't on me!"

"You owe me a new phone!" You continue.

He remembers the night at the charity event, where he did in fact accidentally drop a table on your phone. "Okay, yeah, that's on me."

The rest dawns on you all at once and you sit shakily. "Peter, you almost died last week..."

He winces, taking off his other glove and tossing it away where the mask fell. "I'm fine."

"Spider-man..." You press your hands against your cheeks in horror.

Peter circles the table and crouches next to your chair, placing a gentle hand on your knee. "Y/N, hey, look at me, I'm okay!"

You finally acknowledge him, looking at him. He's not wearing his glasses, you doubt he even truly needs them, but other than that, he's still Peter, your boyfriend. He flashes you a tentative smile, tight-lipped and nervous. You reach for him and press his head against your chest, your fingers tangling in his brown locks. 

"I don't know if I'm angry," you say at last, "I shouldn't be, you've been this for longer than we've known each other... but I'm not happy either, I mean... shit, you're always in danger!"

He wraps his arms around your middle and speaks against your shirt. "It's not that bad," he says, "sometimes I get free churros."

You snort. "That's so not comparable to the risks you're taking."

"You clearly haven't tasted those churros," he jokes.

You laugh and Peter looks up, his expression lighting up and relaxing, glad that you're not screaming at him or running out. He pulls the chair behind him to sit and takes your hands in his, looking into your eyes. 

"It's not easy," he admits in a serious tone, "but I have to do it, because not many people have the abilities I've got, and I've got the chance to make a difference, to do good... and I think the risks are worth it—especially when I'm able to save lives."

You squeeze his hands, sighing and looking down. "I can't pretend I like it... but I can learn to live with it—other people do, right? Pig's wives—"

"They're called cops, Y/N."

"Whatever," you brush off, fully intending to make him laugh, which he does. You continue with a gentle smile. "In any case... I'll have to respect it, won't I? Because you're Spider-man, and that's a big deal, you can't just turn your back on it."

He stares at you with the softest eyes you've ever seen. "I love you."

You blush, pulling his hands closer, making his entire body lean forward, and planting your lips on his, giving him a firm, confident kiss. "Love you too."

You lean your forehead on his, then a slow, shit-eating grin forms on his face. "So you think I'm hot, uh?"

"I think you're a dork," you say, remembering the way you'd described him to Spider-Man without knowing it was him. "And the fact that you wear spandex to fight bad guys carries my point home."

He smirks, nuzzling your face. "You think I'm hot in spandex, so who's the real weirdo?"

"I never said that."

"You don't have to," he mumbles, leaning in for another kiss and talking against your mouth. "I can tell."

As you planned, that night definitely ended up being full of surprises. 

And kissing.

Taglist.

@babypink224221 @syxtiramishuui @skittles-skittles @sarahskywalker-amidala @poetryislife0715 @heavenlymistake @number0hero @aconfusedslytherin @talksoprettyjjx @jesuswasnotawhiteman @23victoria @moonhoonie @raajali @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch @tagakalat @tokkishouse @slytherinnqueen @kai-wifey @djsporks @stargirl-mayaa @justanotherkpopfanlol @whatasadlittlelife @silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody @omgsuperstarg @tyb1 @hufflepuffzutara @lauramacch @thelastpyle @marii-ren @tomshollandz @scarlet-marie @letsfly-andbe-free @meetmyblondemuffins @avengersz-biotch @leyannrae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @peter-holland106 @mayoforthewin @mikaelsonwhxrebae @slytherinambitious @na1ven3vy @amaberry20 @writingmia @Ight-roastcoffee @alloof @marvelouslyme96 @bands-tv-movies-is-me @ivanttier

[hederasgarden]

On the Horizon (1/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.  Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

It’s sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isn’t even your specialty; you’re here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.

Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know he’s more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.

Clearing your throat, Scott’s eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen. 

"What?" he demands.

"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. 

When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air. 

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused. 

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies. 

"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, you’d barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, you’re spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.

It’s Scott. 

"Owens," he bites out. 

Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile. 

 "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

Once he’s gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.

"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."

Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tyler’s red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.

You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. They’re sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like they’re securing something to the side of his truck.

Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, you’re not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time. 

You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, “Hey city girl, you want a beer?”

You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize there’s no turning back now. You’ve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.

“Come on, we don’t bite,” he encourages. 

“Not unless you ask us to,” Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.

Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. It’s icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. You’ve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him. 

“Hey…you’re an engineer right?” Lily calls out. “You wanna take a look at the wing here? She’s giving me some trouble.”

You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but he’s still inside. 

“Tin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,” Tyler observes. “I think you’re safe to join us, Dorothy.”

You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. “Uh, yeah, I can take a look,” you tell Lily.

She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything she’s already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix. 

Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. “You know, if things don’t pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.

“I’m a much nicer boss than Scout,” he promises.

“He’s not my boss,” you remind Tyler. “And his name is Scott.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he’s looking at you.

You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadn’t actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tyler’s attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.

You offer him a quick, “thanks,” and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.

“Not a beer girl?” Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. “No, you strike me as a rosé-all-day type.”

“Actually, I’m a whisky girl,” you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.

“I must be losing my touch,” he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorant—something sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. “Unless, of course, you’re just messing with me,” he continues. “But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you, city girl?”

The way he stares at you suggests that he’s not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesn’t turn to see what has your attention. He doesn’t need to, you realize.

“A lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.” His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. “Lucky for you, darlin’, I’m a big boy.”

A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.

“I’m not…I didn’t,” you stumble over your words as Tyler’s smile grows.

“The decent thing to do is ask,” he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scott’s finally noticed the two of you together. “Better make it quick, he’s on his way over here now.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he replies, tapping your nose.

Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scott’s attention. “Okay, okay, fine,” you relent. “I’m trying to make Scott jealous.”

You can see Scott over Tyler’s shoulder now, his expression dark. He’s second away from being in hearing range. “Tyler. Please.”

“Well since you said the magic word.” 

He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tyler’s body pressed firmly against your side.

“Hey, Scooter,” Tyler greets. “Want a beer?”

Scott’s cheek ripples in annoyance. “No,” he says curtly. 

“Suit yourself.” Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. “Nothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.”

Scott’s nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone. 

“Uh, I better go,” you tell Tyler. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Well, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink. 

The second you’re within reach, Scott’s hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tyler’s crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you can’t quite decipher.

“I thought you were headed to bed early,” Scott accuses as soon as you’re out of earshot of the crew. He’s tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin. 

“I was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.” He doesn’t need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan. 

Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time with those hillbillies.” 

“They aren’t so bad,” you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words don’t sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.

“Storm Par can’t be seen spending time with those amateurs. It’s bad for business. You should know better.”

You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not jealous — he’s just angry. He’d probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again? 

“Come on,” Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room. 

At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.

His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you don’t resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then he’s on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest. 

“Wait, Scott,” you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together. 

He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. “It's been a long day,” he says, “and we both know you want this.”

You do want him, more than anything, but there’s something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours. 

The bed creaks as he shifts back. “I can just go,” he offers.

“No, please don’t.” The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scott’s the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent – one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college. 

“Good answer,” he says with a smile.

You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

 Aren’t you?

Part 2

♡

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[sunflowersbones]

High Fidelity

Warnings: This fic will contain DUB-CON/NON-CON, Manipulative behavior, Spanking, Somnophilia. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

[STEVE ROGERS x reader]

Summary: The captain has unwritten rules laid out, ones you blindly follow. No questions asked, only orders followed. You’re like a loyal dog at his feet, ready to obey his every whim and command; only that you don’t realize how close your collar is to strangulation, and you're terrified that you won’t learn your lesson even when it snaps your neck.

NOTE: I suppose this could be my kinktober fic! Happy Autumn. Reblogs and comments are really appreciated, this is tumblr after all. I hope you enjoy!.

DIVIDERS: @writeyourmindaway l BANNERS: @vase-of-lilies

*

You look out of the window as the sun shines through, lightening up the break room. The slight bitterness of the last remains of your coffee mellow on your tongue as you start preparing it for the others. You make his at the end to ensure that it remains warm until he drinks it. An Americano, with three cubes of sugar. Just the way he likes it; you can only hope that he’s appeased by your attempts, even if it’s not much.

You walk back to the conference room, one hand balancing the coffee and the other carrying a few files Pepper needs. Your life as Pepper’s assistant involves having to clean up everything for her as well as for Tony. Well, more for Tony than Pepper.

As you walk through the corridor, you hear the regular good morning charades. You smile and nod too tired to say anything as your eyes beg you to get some sleep. Tony’s plethora of mishaps as of recently has only increased your work load. This boy leaves around more paperwork than Pepper can handle.

While work can be strenuous at times, you’re extremely grateful for what you have. Who wouldn’t want to work for Stark Internationals and… you got to meet him, talk to him, get to know him, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“Ahh, there she is; we were wondering where our coffee monkey is.” You hear Tony chime.

“What he means is, good morning, Y/N.” Pepper snorts.

“Morning Pepper, Tony, everybody. Pepper, the files you needed.”

“Oh, thank you!.”

Most of them flock around you to get their hands on the coffee, but Sam and Tony beat them to it, like indecent children. The only ones with a little decency are Pepper, Nat, Bucky, and, of course, Steve.

You walk over to Nat and Bucky after you give Pepper hers. Both utter a small thank you as you give them theirs. You slowly turn around and place Steve’s cup near him on the table. He barely acknowledges you, his eyes concentrated on the file in his hand. You’ve always admired that; his ability to never get distracted from what he deems important—you could only wish to have such discipline.

You bask in his scent for a few seconds and immediately leave. You hope nobody caught you staring; you tend to do that a lot. If they knew, they’d make fun of you for being such a love-sick fool.

You finish entering all of last week's finances when you see him approach you. You avert your eyes immediately; to avoid too much eye contact is something he insists upon. You stare at your computer as you type in a few more numbers.

He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, a file in his hand.

“Hello captain.”

“Pepper wanted to return this to you.” He says as he extends the file to you.

“Oh yes, I’ll need this for...,” you stop as you realise he’s barely listening. You see him look around to make sure no one is nearby as he turns to you.

“You didn’t stop by yesterday.” His tone was laced with disappointment.

“I… I didn’t leave office until late, and I had to come back early; there was a lot of work left.” You wait for him to say something but soon realise he’s not going to. His face is as clam as ever, yet his eyes seem to be throwing a reproachful look at you.

“You’d just arrived from a mission too; I assumed you might be tired.”

"Yeah, I was; don’t you think that’s when I need you the most?” He whispers.

“I’m sorry, you never said anything, and I—

“Do I have to? After all this time.” You feel your heart clench at his accusation.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel yourself shrink at his presence.

“I should leave; you’re not the only one with work here.” Before you could say anything, he’s gone, only the echo of his footsteps left behind.

The whole day passes by uneventfully, and Steve’s words stung. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but your mind seemed inclined to relive your conversation from the morning. You really hadn’t meant to upset him.

At about nine, you receive a text from Steve.

“Stop by tonight.”

Simple and direct your conversations never went past that. You still have some more work left, but you don’t want to upset him any further, so you pack your stuff and decide to head to his room.

You wish that Steve would come over to your place instead; having to sneak around like this can be really difficult at times. If it were your place, there’s nothing to worry about—nobody to catch you. But now... does he not think of these things?, you wonder.

You’re not particularly afraid of the others finding out, considering Pepper and Tony have themselves breached the professionalism code of conduct. Nat and Bruce are on their way to; there’s nothing new about finding love at the workplace, right?

You’re more worried about how he’s going to react when people find out; you really didn’t want to deal with the burn of something you could have avoided.

As you turn around the right corner, your heart jumps out of your body as your eyes meet a pair of questioning blue ones.

“Why haven’t you left yet; isn’t it late?” Bucky enquires; he seems to have changed into his workout attire, his hands warped in bandages. Who works out at this hour? You ponder. He seems to have read your mind through your face as he answers, saving you the trouble.

“Couldn’t sleep; thought I’d punch some of the energy out.”

“So, why are you still here?”

“Uhh work, there were a lot of emails and I lost track of time.” He gives you an understanding nod. His mouth slightly parts to say something but then thinks better of it. You move around to pass through, when he suddenly says, “I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, it’s ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin your workout.”

“You won’t. I’ll walk you to your car and then head to the gym.”

“Really I — But, before you can finish, he turns back towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors swing open, and he steps inside, leaving you no choice but to follow.

Bucky leans onto the side, pressing himself to the cool glass walls as you stand rigid on the opposite side. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with him before or this close to him. Now that you notice it, he’s built quite a lot like Steve, although Steve might be a tad bit taller or it could just be the hair.

You quickly avert your eyes as he catches you staring at him. He clears his throat as he says, “You really shouldn’t be working so late, Y/N; it’s not healthy, you know.”

“Overworking will only make things more difficult in the future; Pepper wouldn’t want that for her favourite employee.”

You chuckle at that, “I’m not Pepper's favourite employee.”

“Of course you are; she couldn’t manage a day without you. She’s always praising you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, plus we like having our morning coffee, and you’re the only one who’s kind enough to get it for us.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” You smile back.

“Still, thank you. We really appreciate it.” He says, a slight smile warming up his face.

The lift arrives at the parking lot, and you get out of it into the well-lit space. The cluster of cars overwhelming you as you look around in search of yours, lost in the myriad of similar-looking vehicles.

“Well… Thank you for acknowledging it, Mr. Barn—

“Bucky.” He cuts you to it, his voice carrying a timber of shyness.

“Bucky.” Your whisper back, happy at the aspect of knowing that after all, maybe the supersoldier doesn’t despise you. You don’t know why you ever worried about that; your communication with each other might have been limited, but he was never anything but kind and respectful.

You say your final good-byes and walk towards your vehicle. You open it and get inside, fumbling with your key, hoping that he would leave soon. You did not want to actually leave the building for the pretence of it.

You turn your key around, the car engine roaring at you. You look over ahead to see Bucky turning around to ride up the elevator again. You decide to stay put for some more time. You don’t want to ride the elevator just yet. What if he hasn’t left?

If you get caught again, you have no excuses left. So you stay put for a good 40 minutes before you make your way up. Bucky’s bound to be in the gym by now.

You slowly sneak towards his room, heels in your hand, to avoid the loud tenor of its click-clacking. You arrive at his front door and repeat the pattern twice. A knock-pause, followed by two rapid knocks. You’re received by silence, and you grow a little uneasy. What if someone shows up? What will you say? Was he really that mad?

You repeat the knock again and pause for a few seconds. The door swings open, and your breath hitch’s at the sight in front of you. He has a towel wrapped around his hip, his hair wet as the droplets still cling on to him. His face and body; glistening. There’s a frown etched between his eyebrows as he stares at you.

“You’re late.”

“I was—before you can finish, his hand extends to latch on to your belt as he pulls you in. He shuts the door close as he presses you against it; you feel your entire face heat up. You’ve seen him naked so many times, yet you can’t help but ogle at him and admire him every time you see him.

Every time he needs you, there’s a bloom in your heart that radiates through your whole body. One that just wants him near you, on you, inside you. And you just want to be there for him whenever, wherever, however he wants you to be.

He gives you a questioning gaze as you mumble. “Bucky kinda noticed that I hadn’t left yet, so I had to play around a little.” His frown still remains as you let out a “Sorry.” His hand moves around you to lock the door, the sound of it synchronising with a beat of your heart. His hand moves to rest on your lower back; it curves around you and pushes you towards him. Your breasts press tightly against his chest as he traps you between him and the door. He presses his mouth on to yours as he kisses you; it's messy, all teeth and tongue. His desperation seeps through you as you feel yourself get wet.

You feel his hard length against your core as he presses his hip to yours. You let out a loud moan, your head leans back onto the door as you attempt to take in shallow breaths. He moves his face ever so slightly to look at you as he moves his hips back and thrusts into you with a force that knocks the wind out of you. You gasp at that as he adorns a devious smirk.

His hand travels down your thigh, he lifts it up and hooks it around his hip, spreading you apart as he nestles in between you.

“Been thinking about this pretty cunt, the whole time I was away.” He whispers into your mouth. One of his hands travels under you skirt as he cups your core, his fingers maneuver around your underwear as he plays around with you.

“Well somebody’s excited.” He sighs out, hot breath fanning your face.

“On the bed, ass up, right now.” He sternly recites. Your body immediately moves on its own, pealing your clothes off of yourself. Anticipation overwhelming you as you lay down, just like he told you to. You can hear him pumping himself with the hand that was covered in your slick just a moment ago.

He climbs onto the bed behind you as his hands move to grope your ass. With a smooth clean thrust he slides himself inside you. He lets out a moan as you feel yourself clench around him. His right hand rear back and as he smacks you, you feel the sting pass through your entire body.

You bite your lips and start counting; you haven’t forgotten, the last time he made sure you won’t. “…3,4,5,6,” you feel hot tears well up you eyes, “…8,9.” His left arm gropes your titts and moves forward to your neck, he squeezes it as he yanks you back.

Your back collides with his chest and he increases his pace, thrusting into you. Your knees are falling apart and the only thing that makes sure you stay upright are his hands. Your own hand maneuvers back to play with his hair, you ruffle your fingers through the short strands and slowly scratch his head. His eyes shut close as his breath falters and his thrusts start to get sloppier. You press yourself even closer to him as you tilt your head sideways. You lean forward and place a light peck on his lips. He opens his eyes as his grip on you tightens at that, you’re sure that it’ll bruise by tomorrow morning.

He moves your upper body around uncomfortably so as his lips find yours. He growls into the kiss as he twists your body, you’re almost afraid that you’ll snap like a twig, but you felt reassurance course through you when you realize its him. You wouldn’t mind if it’s him but you also know that nothing would happen because it’s him; he would never hurt you, he would never hurt anybody. He is Captain America after all.

You feel yourself close and you cling on to him desperately. “Sir… sir, I’m clo—

“Hush, hush let go… just let go, I’ve got you.” You come apart around him as you clench him tighter and he closely follows you.

You fall on to the bed as exhaustion overcomes you. You can hear his soft, shallow breaths behind you as you close your eyes and focus on it. You feel him shift as he gets out of bed and leaves the room; he comes back a minute later carrying a bottle with him. His eyes are on you as you turn around to sit upright.

“Water?” he asks, his hand extended, his gaze never leaving you.

“Yes, please!” You timidly reply, your eyes finding the ground. You greedily drink up; you’d been parched, and you hadn’t even realised it.

He moves around to his bedside table and fiddles with the clock. With your thirst now quenched, you feel the soreness ripple through your body. You’re ready to drop right now; you don’t even want to think about the pile of work you’ll have to deal with in the morning. Some sleep would do you good, yet you know you’re not going to get any, simply by the way he stares at you. He’s waiting to rip that bottle out of your hands.

The minute you give him the bottle back, he’s on you. His entire weight pressed onto your aching body, his thrusts sending you to oblivion as he takes you over and over throughout the night.

You jump up as the alarm rings through your brain, the blaring noise annoying your ear just as its bright red numbers annoy your eyes. You absentmindedly notice that it's 4:00 am. You don’t have to turn around to know that he’s gone; the lack of warmth already suggests that. Not that you ever got a semblance of the next morning; you’re never privy to seeing his beautiful sleep-ridden form in the morning.

He’s always been punctual about his morning runs; they weren’t going to change for your sake. You pick up your clothes—the ones you’d scattered around, the ones he’s picked up and placed on his chair—and get dressed as you brace yourself for the day to come. At least he’s not far away on a mission; at least you don’t have to worry about how he’s doing, where he’s gone, or when he’ll come back, and you most definitely don’t have to worry about Tony’s inquisitive gazes as to why his assistant’s secretary would care about Steve Rogers.

The last time you chalked it up as concern for the team and worry about the authenticity of the Intel, but you won’t get such chances anymore, so you learn to apply patience into your daily regime. At least now you can take comfort in small glances and the echo of his voice; it fills your heart with a kind of warmth that you don’t think you can explain. Yet you know it; you recognise it. It blooms within you every time you see those baby blues.

Tony’s meetings have always brought a frown upon Steve’s brows; that wouldn’t surprise you, however the way he gazes at you does. It never lingers for more than a second, but now... you feel his gaze burn through you. You focus your attention on the second pair of eyes that have been longing for it as you hand over the cup of espresso to him.

“Thanks doll.” Bucky whispers back a nonchalant remark.

Steve’s eyes flick on to Bucky and then back to you. For a split second, his face hardens, but it immediately reverts back. His attention now back on the monitor in front of him.

“Hey, Steve, this is important, you know? It would be great if you were paying attention to what I’m saying instead of laser-eyeing my coffee monkey.” Tony quips.

All eyes are now on you, yet his remains stoned towards Tony. He gives him an unimpressed shrug, “You do have my attention, Tony.”

“Wait a sec, she gets everyone coffee, so why is she your coffee monkey?” Natasha asks, an eyebrow raised in your direction, “Shouldn’t she be our coffee monkey?” she smirks.

“Well, Nat,” Tony replies, “it’s my coffee, and she works for me, so...”

“First and foremost, she’s my assistant; second of all, she’s doing you guys a favor. She doesn’t have to do this. Now please stop hogging her and let her work.” Pepper tones suggest humour and a slight disappointed nod at Tony.

“Yeah, well, you work for me, Pepp, so technically everything’s mine.”

Tony squeaks out as the room breaks into smiles and low hollers. The attention is back on Tony now; you use this opportunity to escape. As you leave, you turn back slightly to look at Steve. Only to be met with his back towards you.

Once again, you leave work late. The workload these past few days has made taking care of yourself impossible. As you walk towards home, you mentally plan on what you should do to relax. Tomorrow is a Sunday, and you really want to spend some time for yourself. You turn around as you head in the direction of your apartment building and are momentarily surprised to find Steve perched up on his motorcycle.

He looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. Even a simple gaze from him brings a shiver down your spine. He walks into the building, and you quietly follow behind him. A part of you feels guilty for not lending him a key, but he never asked, and you didn’t want to seem overbearing. He moves towards the corner of the lift as you enter right behind him.

Even though it is quite late into the night, the overflow of people moving about was no less. You move over to the right to create space for the incoming group of people. An unbothered shove from the person in front of you pushes you back. Your body slightly leans towards him, his chest pressed to your back as his hands land on your hip, pulling you closer. You feel him hard against your ass, and you heave a shuttered breath.

While Steve has always been handsy, he never acted out in public. Although no one here recognised him, nor were there any cameras in the lift—unlike the all-seeing eyes of the stark tower—it still doesn’t help calm your nerves.

Your floor arrives shortly, and you weed your way out; however, you don’t see him behind you. You presume he’ll get out on another floor and descend the stairs. You slowly walk towards your apartment and unlock the door. You enter and switch on the lampshade in the hall, the low yellow colour dancing through the entire room.

You hear his heavy footsteps as you place your bag on the table. He enters and closes the door; his figure leans on to it as he lingers there for a few seconds, gazing at you.

Before you know it he moves forward in lightening speed. His hands find your body as he lifts you off of the ground. You wrap your legs around his hips as he hungrily kisses you. His right hand lands on your ass and he gropes a handful as his other hand squeezes the nape of your neck. You revel in the pleasure and slight pain he provides and you lightly bite his lips.

He places your body atop the table as he moves to nip at your neck. His hand rides up your thigh as he slowly drags your panties down. You hike your skirt up in an attempt to help him as your lips desperately try to latch itself on to his again.

He kisses you a few more times in an attempt to placate you before his arm pushes your upper body onto the table. He slightly bends his knees and leans over to lower his head in between your thighs.

His heated breath dances against your slick core, as he swipes his tongue over your folds. He laps from you hungrily as his hands tighten on your thigh; adjusting them.

“Please Steve.” You receive a slight bite on the inside of your thigh at that; a reminder.

“Captain. Sir, Please.” You moan a whimper out.

“Use your words sweetheart, what do you want?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to make me feel good.”

“Atta girl.” He whispers.

His tongue slightly licks your clit before sucking on it. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as you move your hands over to run through his short Blond strands, you slowly massage his head and he pushes his face further into you.

You can barely handle it anymore as you let yourself go with a muffled scream and you nearly see stars around you. He moves his hand to the back of your hip as he stands straight and you know you’re not done for the day.

It’s been nearly three weeks, and he hasn’t said a word to you. Your lack of communication wasn’t anything new. But he hasn’t  come to you even once, and you know he’s here and not away on a mission; you’d seen him at the tower chatting away with almost anybody but you.

Sometimes you’d encounter the supersoldier pair in passing, Bucky was the only one who would stop by to greet you; your Blond-haired nightly companion would simply walk past you. You’re unsure if it’s his usual impassiveness or if you did something wrong again.

It could be really difficult when it came to Steve; he had high expectations but was never precise about what he wanted. A part of you loved it when you could figure it out on your own without him having to spell it out for you. But sometimes you couldn’t understand what it is that he wants. It angers and terrifies you; that’s when the dread settles in. You don’t want to admit it or acknowledge it even,though a small part of you is terrified of being discarded away.

By the fourth week, you finally found the courage to talk to him, only to find out that he’s been gone for about three days now. A part of you felt guilty that you hadn’t talked to him earlier, but another part of you knows that it was the better decision to make.

The days flit through in a gloom as you realise how disheartening expectation can be. The only positive side to your loneliness and boredom was the better sleep schedule you managed to incorporate into your routine. The depths of sleep now welcome you without much hesitation. 

You don’t really perceive the feeling of your bed dipping at the weight of another. Not even the feather-like touch of fingers skimming over your body. Sleep lulls you into a pleasant dreamscape; not even at the slight intrusion that your body felt could your mind understand anything.

It wasn’t until you felt his cock plunged into you that you truly registered what was happening. Your mind had just been in the cradle of sleep, and it felt like you had been snatched out of it. Your body felt trapped between the bed and the weight of the body pressed on top of you. The weight of it was the only thing you could focus on until the sting of him stretching you out coursed through your body.

You could hardly breathe; fear surges through you as your heartbeat increases. Your brain felt like it was on fire due to the sudden change your body felt.

The room was veiled in darkness except for the small shine of moonlight. Your eyes hadn’t been able to register to it in the beginning, but now they had become accustomed to it. You couldn’t decide if the sight in front of you put you at ease or if it alarmed you further.

It was the same blue eyes that you’d always longed to gaze at, the same glittery Blond hair that you long to touch, the same sharp nose, and the same clenched jaw. Except there was something in his eyes that terrified you, along with the dirt and blood that covered his face; his lip nearly torn apart. It almost felt like it wasn’t him, and your heart both feared and ached for him.

With a little more clarity now you notice the brushing of the sharp clothes against yours. He was still wearing his stealth suit; this— a first. Now that you think of it, you don’t ever remember him coming to you while wearing it; he’d never been desperate enough. You were a part of his leisure, not a need. Your hand moves to feel the shape and pattern with a sense of wonder.

He leans down to kiss you, the copper taste of his blood stinging your tongue. He bites on to your lip making you yelp; sure that now you’ve started to bleed too.

“Ahh ste— Steve, slow— slow down please.” You beg.

His hand moves to wrap itself around your throat as he slightly tightens his fingers around it. His pace not differing at the slightest. In fact, you're sure he’s slightly increased his pace.

“Talk to me... what���s wrong?” Your right arm moves up to hold his face as your thumb gets imprinted with his sweat and blood.

His gaze that had been on your lips this entire time, now flickers to your eyes as his pace slows a tiny bit.

“Just go to sleep.” The gravel of his voice a slight whisper.

You’re exhausted by him, and his voice lulls you even more; you feel the ceiling slowly blur. Your body moving along with the rhythm of the bed as you slowly fall asleep again.

A surprise party for Pepper's birthday would involve the utmost amount of planning done solely by you and the credit taken away by Tony. But the warm smile lingering on the strawberry Blond's face makes it all worth it.

The humdrum within the Stark tower makes you gleam inwardly; the initial stress and discomfort from the morning washed away. In fact, you had completely forgotten about him. The excitement of the party overtaking you—it felt so nice to see everybody like this. At ease in their own skin, today they were no different from any other office member celebrating a colleague's birthday, albeit a slight difference in luxury.

The long-haired brunet walks over to the quieter side of the party where you reside. You notice him walking over and slice a piece of the cake and extend it to him.

“It’s a real nice party you pulled off in such little time, Y/N.”

“Whatever do you mean?, this is all Tony." You say, a light gist in your voice.

“Oh please, everyone knows this is your work; pretty sure Pepper does too.”

“Tony was away with us on the mission; he wouldn’t be able to pull this off.”

“Well, I think you underestimate him, Bucky.”

“No, they underestimate you,” he sighs, anticipation brewing within. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous.

“Do you like the cake? It’s got a complicated name, but I’m pretty sure it's got plum in it; I know you like it.”

His eyes light up just a tad bit as the corners of his mouth slightly turn up.

He chuckles again, “You’re supposed to get Pepper a cake of her choice, not what I like.”

“Everyone likes plum!. Anyway, I had to buy multiple cakes; sneaking this in was easy.”

“Thank you. It’s really goo— a thud on his back nearly chokes him as Sam comes up from behind, eager to receive his share of the sugary dessert. As you cut the slice for him, their regular jab of bickering continues. Sam says something in an almost teasing tone as Bucky tries to strangle him with his eyes. You like this version of them much more.

You slightly tap your feet as you gaze at the room you’re most familiar with. He hadn’t spoken to you the whole day, but his piercing gaze could not be shaken off of you. You recall the previous night's events; you’re unsure what to make of it. You simply couldn’t leave, at least not without hearing his voice.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I- wanted to talk to you… about last ni—

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?”

“You seemed content with the company of others the whole day.” The harshness of his tone surprises you.

“What, Steve, what are you-?

“I believe it’s cap for you. Since when did you two get this close?” he says a finger pointed towards you.

“who?”

“Don’t act like a fool, Y/N; I see the way you look at him; act around him.”

“Who!?”

“Bucky.” He barks back.

“Are you trying to fuck him? Bored of me? Is that what this is about?”

The crassness of his words shocked you. You feel a lump form in your throat as your eyes sting.

“No, no...” you can barely form any words as tears start brimming up, your palms brush against your eyes harshly as to try to stop the free fall.

He sighs at that, his voice now a whisper, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not. I’m— sorry…” you coarsely whisper.

He sighs again and moves over to sit on the bed, a hand extending to latch on to your dress. He pulls you with it, your slight resistance casually ignored. His grip becomes stronger as he pulls you onto his lap, his hand tight around your waist.

He simply gazes at you, and you start crying all over again, “I don’t know—I just don’t know what I did to make you feel that way. I never—you sob words stuck in your throat.

He tilts up your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at him. He leans forward to kiss you. The hand around your waist forcing you to straddle him as the other latches on to your hair. You try to stop, to get a word out but he uses this opportunity to shove his tongue in. The force of him making you relent.

“Steve, I—

The sudden swing of the door startles you just as your presence startles your visitor. He averts his eyes in shock, but his eyes move back to look at you, an ache painted upon them as he looks at your dishevelled hair and messy form.

“Hey, Buck. Need something?” Steve asks, his face slightly turned backwards.

Bucky’s eyes finally reside on the other man in the room, snapping him out of his trance.

“Uh… yeah. no- No, it’s ok.” He rambles as he moves back and closes the door.

You feel a sudden sense of shame course through you, and you move to get off of him. Only to have him shift you as he pins you under him.

“Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone. It’ll be fine.” He says in between kisses. His hand toying with your dress.

Of course; you’re still his secret, one that he’s unwilling to share. But it’s ok. For him, you’ll do just about anything, as he would for you.

His insatiability and your incredulity, twisting around and consuming you into a single burning fire.

*

[boy-comics]

Hi! I wanted to know if I could request a writing with Jooyeon x reader where Jooyeon is a nonidol and a p.e. teacher, while the reader is also a teacher at the same school. Maybe like an art teacher or normal homeroom teacher for the reader? Or whatever you think is best and will make sense. I know it will be amazing since I have loved all of your writings they are so so good! :D I hope this makes sense since it is my first time requesting something.

A FOR EFFORT?

── .✦ pairing; teacher!jooyeon x teacher!gn!reader

── .✦ summary; five times jooyeon is in the running for the position of your work spouse, and one time you run for the position of his.

── .✦ word count; ~4.1k

── .✦ tags; swearing, slightly suggestive near the end, teacher au, fluff, humor, (inaccurate depiction of teaching in korea/teaching in general), (i apologize to those who read this and actually teach tysm for your hard work)

── .✦ a/n; thank you for the request anon!!! i'm sorry for the delay </3 for plot purposes reader is an art teacher hehe

prelude;

Two weeks after Lee Jooyeon comes onboard at your elementary school as the new physical education teacher, he approaches you in the teacher's room and asks, a grave look on his face, if you have a work spouse already.

"Work spouse?" you repeat, perplexed. "Why do you ask?"

"Hyeongjun said that your work spouse is probably Seungmin. Is he?"

"Well, I guess it would make sense since we both started working here at the same time. But no." The sigh of relief that escapes him makes you crack a smile. "Do you have a work spouse, Seonsaengnim?"

At that, Jooyeon throws you a crooked grin. His boyish reply sends a rush of blood to your cheeks.

"No, not yet." You nod in acknowledgment, looking down with the excuse of organizing your papers. You think that is the end of the conversation until he continues: "How can I get one?"

"Huh?"

"How can I get a work spouse?"

You shrug, laughing a bit at the absurdity of the question, even as a younger part of you flirts with hope. "I don't know," you reply. Jooyeon just stares at you expectantly, and your chuckle turns awkward. "Help them prep materials for their class? Listen to them complain about overbearing parents?"

"Those things would work?"

"I mean, they're nice things to do. Anybody would appreciate it."

"You'd appreciate it," Jooyeon says. "For example."

"Yes, 'cause I'm lazy and love complaining." You push your sleeves back up and return your attention to your computer screen, scooting into your desk. "Anything else I can help you with before we get back to work, Seonsaengnim?"

A thoughtful hum leaves his throat, low and sonorous. "No, that's it," he eventually replies. "Thank you."

"Of course," you say as he excuses himself, and as he shuffles off to wherever he had come from, your head turns on its own volition to watch him leave.

Work spouse. How cute. You're curious to see what he does with your advice, if only to see if he really means to use it on you.

—

one;

"Good morning, Seonsaengnim!"

Hurried steps soon follow, and you turn, astonished.

"Am I dreaming?" you say by way of greeting, not believing your eyes or ears as Jooyeon skids to a stop. You glance down at the two cups in his possession. "You're thirty minutes early?"

"Yep," Jooyeon says proudly. His expression is bright, though his somewhat rumpled appearance tells you the cost of rolling out of bed earlier than usual. "I wanted to make sure you had time to drink this."

He offers one of the cups to you. You take it gratefully and read the sleeve, your eyebrows shooting up as you recognize the name of your favorite coffee shop. You think you've only mentioned it once to him in passing.

"How do you know how I take my coffee?"

"I asked Jiseokie."

Ah, so that's why he had asked everyone yesterday.

Delaying opening the door to blow into the cup and take a sip, you make a pleased sound as the blend hits your tongue. It isn't your exact order, but it's pretty damn close, and it's good. And it isn't too hot.

"Good?" Jooyeon ventures expectantly.

"Good," you confirm, smiling and turning to open the door. "Thank you, Seonsaengnim."

He follows you into the school and drinks from his own cup of coffee.

"What did you get?" you ask.

He sounds almost proud when he replies. "Iced Americano."

"Is that your usual?"

He takes another swig. You get your answer when you glance to the side and catch the grimace on his face. "… No, I like frappés better …"

You snort, elbowing him gently. "Then why did you get that?"

"The caffeine," he answers. "I wanted to be more awake when I told you good morning."

Oh.

"… Oh," you say, touched. "Well, you've made my morning for sure."

Jooyeon grins. If he had a tail, you think it would be wagging right now.

—

two;

The feeling of Jooyeon hovering over your shoulder is nothing particularly new, but it still makes you nervous and giddy at the same time.

"Yes, Seonsaengnim?"

"Nothing, just watching," he replies, then inevitably follows up with, "what kind of art is this?"

You continue squeezing glue onto the piece of fabric pressed out on the counter, trying to keep the lines from being too gloopy. "I'm doing a few lessons on textiles, and we're going to do batik two days from now. It's a Javanese dyeing technique that creates patterns using hot wax," you explain. "I'll have the kids use glue instead of wax, though."

"Oh, I think I remember doing that in school! Can I try?"

"Sure." You pause to gesture to the nearby stack of fabric squares. "You can draw out your own design on the fabric or trace from the design I printed out."

"I'll make my own design."

For the next five minutes, Jooyeon takes a pencil in hand and becomes deceptively quiet. You sense him glance over at you several times, but you keep your eyes on the standard design you'll be showing as an example, working on the petal edges and filling in the centers. When he mutters about glue, you direct him towards the supply cabinet without so much as sneaking a peek at his progress. You're not sure why. Maybe you just want the reveal to be all at once.

Around the time that you finish your own design, Jooyeon grunts happily. "Done," he announces, very student-like.

"That was pretty quick," you say, finally looking over and immediately stopping short. "Oh, that's … oh … wow."

Jooyeon had drawn a portrait. Of someone? You're actually not sure it's a person.

"It's you," he says, and you struggle not to choke. The corners of his eyes crinkle at the ungodly sound, but your embarrassment quickly fades as he starts cackling. "Abstractly, maybe. What, you don't like it? I worked so hard!"

"No, it's great," you wheeze. "Looks just like me. Can I show it as an example to the students?"

"Well, yeah. Wait, let me sign it." Tongue sticking out slightly, Jooyeon glues his name into the corner with a flourish. "Is that good?"

"Perfect." You mean it genuinely and he beams. "We can paint them tomorrow, if you have time."

"I'll make time, Seonsaengnim."

He helps you put the supplies away and store your pieces somewhere where they won't get bothered. Only then does he sheepishly mutter something about working on his own lesson plan for tomorrow, leading to you quickly ushering him out of the art room.

Once he is gone, you return to the portrait he had made and giggle until you have to sit down. You're flattered—really.

—

three;

"Those girls over at the far end of the swings," Seungmin brings your attention to a trio of students during recess. "They're up to something."

"Looks like they're picking flowers." You watch the three students from the Camellia class as they shuffle through the grass to pick dandelions. The yellow flowers are starting to crop up all over the schoolyard, much to the vice principal's chagrin. "Jiwoo's been making dandelion chains for the past week."

"No ..." Seungmin scratches his neck. "They've been looking over here for the past five minutes and giggling."

You snort. "Maybe they want to give their handsome moral education teacher flowers."

Dismissive of Seungmin's observation, you turn your attention to the more rambunctious group of students playing soccer. One of them attempts a giant swing of a kick only to miss and fall backwards in the process, but she gets back up in no time to run after everyone else.

Eventually, you hear someone calling for a teacher.

"Seonsaengnim!"

You smile as the three girls from earlier run towards you and Seungmin. All three have a chain of dandelions around their necks, and the ringleader, Jiwoo, has a small bundle of long-stemmed dandelions and smaller white flowers tied together with a piece of grass.

"What is it, girls?" you ask. "You all look so nice with your necklaces."

"Thank you," Jiwoo says modestly. The other two glance at each other and giggle but say nothing. "We have something for you."

To your slight but pleasant surprise, she presents the bouquet to you.

"Wow!" says Seungmin next to you. "We have such thoughtful students, Seonsaengnim."

"We do," you say proudly, taking the bouquet. "Thank you, girls."

They look at you and giggle to each other again. You start to get a little perplexed when they linger, until—

"They're from Coach!" Chaeyoung blurts, then gasps and covers her mouth.

You blink. "... Coach?" Jiwoo glares at her friend, and all three girls blush guiltily. You bend down a bit and smile at them to hide your sudden concern. "Did he tell you to do this?"

It takes a moment of silent debating amongst the group, but finally, Jiyoo speaks up, her voice tiny and nervous. "No. But we heard Seonsaengnim tell Coach about liking the dandelions yesterday, and Coach said he wished he was on recess duty today to get you some, a-and ... we wanted to do something nice for Seonsaengnim and Coach."

Your tongue nearly ties itself up into a knot. Shit. You thought it had just been the two of you in the hallway yesterday, away from the kids, but you should've known by now that even the walls have ears. At least you know that Jooyeon has the sense not to purposely involve the kids with this. You avoid meeting Seungmin's eyes for fear that he might say something stupid in front of your students.

While you gather your thoughts, Jiyoo begins to sniff. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping, Seonsaengnim!" she exclaims. "I know you said we're not supposed to!"

Jiwoo and Chaeyoung shift anxiously, eyes downcast. You quickly kneel to soothe Jiyoo and reassure the other two. "Hey, hey," you say softly. "You're not in trouble. I know you three meant to do something nice, and it was very nice to pick me all these beautiful flowers. But Jiyoo-ya is right that we shouldn't eavesdrop. Coach and I were having a private conversation. And whatever is in a private conversation should stay between those two people unless someone is getting hurt, right?"

"Yes ..."

You pat Jiyoo's shoulders and smile at Jiwoo and Chaeyoung.

Jiwoo opens her mouth, then closes it, bringing her friends closer before addressing you. "Seonsaengnim ... can the flowers be from us instead, then?"

Ah, your heart melts a bit. You nod and stroke the bouquet, pressing the flowers to your nose and taking a big whiff. "Of course. I'll put them in a nice cup of water so they can stay on my desk. Thank you."

With all the bad feelings assuaged and a lesson learned, the girls are satisfied and return to playing, and you stand back up, sighing in relief.

"Wow." Seungmin plays with the lanyard hanging from his neck, and you cast him a withering glance as he raises an eyebrow at you. "So even the kids know."

"Seonsaengnim, we're on duty."

He shrugs, taking in a deep breath of sun-filled air. You look back out at your students running and laughing across the schoolyard before he speaks again.

"It's so simple for them. If you like someone, you don't have to worry about their five-year plan or family or Internet history or whatever. You just like them and give them flowers."

"Yeah." You hold your bouquet to your chest, wondering what Jooyeon will say when you tell him that your precious students have beaten him to it. "Kids are lucky."

—

four;

"You know, Seonsaengnim," Jiseok, the science teacher, tells you while you're photocopying extra portrait examples for tomorrow's class, "one might classify you as a homewrecker."

You sputter. "As a—sorry?"

"A homewrecker."

The printer continues to churn out Joseon-period court officials. You glance down at the faces, then at Jiseok, who leans against the overworked machine and returns your questioning gaze with a solemn one.

"Can you ... elaborate on that?" you plead.

"Of course. I'm referring to how my work bestie, Lee Jooyeon, is leaving me for the art teacher." Jiseok shakes his head. "Do you know how hard I've vouched for bridging the gap between the arts and sciences? I've coordinated lessons with you. Both of you have betrayed me!"

A snort leaves your nose. "Oh. You worried me for a second."

"You should be, Seonsaengnim. Even though Jooyeon is single and very available in terms of his personal life, the professional relationship between Jooyeon and me is essential for this school's ecosystem. If it is altered in any way, the effect would be disastrous."

"I don't see how your guys' relationship can get any more disastrous."

Before Jiseok can give a verbal reply, the door opens. Both of you look over, wide-eyed, at the sudden appearance of—well, Jooyeon.

"Hi," he says. "What are you guys doing?"

"Photocopying things in the photocopying room," you say as Jiseok wanders over to the neighboring photocopier to gather his own papers. "What are you doing?"

"Yeah," Jiseok drawls, a shit-eating grin on his face. "What are you doing, Jooyeon-ah?"

"The light was on, so I wanted to turn it off if nobody was in here," Jooyeon says, even though the door has a window. He turns to you. "I can carry your papers for you, Seonsaengnim."

You wave your hands. "You don't have to. I can do it."

"I want to do it."

"It makes me feel a little guilty, though."

With raised eyebrows, Jiseok slips past the two of you, throwing you two exaggerated thumbs ups behind Jooyeon's back before the latter turns to see what's going on. They pause for a moment, and you start to become a bit suspicious before Jiseok heads out and Jooyeon turns back to you.

"Don't feel guilty. You help me all the time, even when it's annoying."

His earnestness softens you yet again. You sigh with a smile, handing the warm stack of papers to him. "All right, then, here. As long as you tell Jiseok that I'm not leading you on."

At that, Jooyeon laughs, holding your papers against his chest and opening the door to let both of you out.

"What's wrong with being led sometimes?"

—

five;

You want to go home. You want to go home and take a shower and change into soft clothes and cry yourself to sleep in your bed.

Your breaths escape you in soft hisses between your hands. Your hands, damp despite having wiped the sweat from them a minute or two ago, press hard into your face. The fan on your desk whirs gently.

"Seonsaengnim?"

Shit.

Inhaling, you tear your hands from your face and reach for your water bottle, leaning back and taking a long sip of water to excuse your late reply. "Yes?"

"It's Jooyeon." You know. There's a lengthy pause behind the door before he continues, uncharacteristically tentative, "Can I come in?"

You probably look like a wreck. "Sure."

The door opens. You fiddle with the cap of your water bottle, not meeting Jooyeon's eyes as he steps in and carefully closes the door behind him.

Clearing your throat, you say wryly, "Sorry, no art lesson today."

"I know. I just heard about what happened." He looks down at you, brow furrowed. "Really, it's messed up."

"I just ... can't, sometimes." The frustration suddenly escapes you in a burst. You feel hot. "The parents want me to teach their kid. I can't teach them because they're busy bullying other students. I can't discipline them because I'm not their parent. I scold them for scratching another kid and the parents threaten to report me and tell me I should be fired. What am I supposed to do?"

Jooyeon bites the inside of his cheek. "... I don't know," he mutters. "At least you know you're not going to be fired."

You laugh, bitter. "Yeah. This time."

Resting your elbows on the desk again, you rub your temples, willing the sting behind your eyes to go away.

Movement from Jooyeon's position catches your attention. Your chair swivels and then he's close, almost too close, hands gripping the arm rests tightly as he says your title with conviction.

"You worked fucking hard for that title. If the school ever decides to throw you away because of shitty parents, then it's a shitty school and the rest of us should quit."

Your bottom lip trembles almost imperceptibly. "That's not fair to the kids."

"We'll open a new school for them."

"Their parents will still be shitty."

"I—come on!" Jooyeon whines as you chuckle wetly, shaking your chair with a pout. "I'm trying my best to comfort you here."

"I know," you say, wiping half a tear from your eye before grinning up at him. His expression lightens, and he lets go of your chair, only to continue hovering close. "Thank you."

He smiles back.

—

+ one;

"Seonsaengnim!" The sudden boom after hours of silence causes you to jump about ten feet in the air. You snap your head towards the door to see Jooyeon, who grins and waves at you. "Hi."

"Jooyeon-ssaem, you scared the crap out of me," you scold. The man's grin only broadens, and you shake your head, leaving the craft table to walk over to him. "What are you doing here? It's the weekend."

Jooyeon scratches the back of his head. "Ah … I forgot to finish some paperwork," he admits. "So I figured I should do it now before I forget again and get in trouble."

You raise your eyebrows. "Thinking ahead? That's new."

His eyelids crinkle at the corners as he laughs. That's Jooyeon for you—always taking your teases in stride. "You're so mean," he exclaims. "I was gonna say that I also came in because you said you were gonna be here today, but maybe you don't deserve my help."

"No, no, no, wait," you say quickly. Maybe a little too quickly, judging by the way his eyes glint. "I meant to say that you're proactive and hardworking and really helpful. Like, you always ask if I need help when you have time, because you're that nice."

He waves you off, feigning modesty. "Ah, please, I'm just doing my part. Anyway, do you need any help?"

"I thought you had paperwork?"

"It can wait for a little bit," he says dismissively. He leans to peek around you, then trots over to the craft table. "This is what you're working on?" He picks at one of the many small, triangular flags strewn over your table.

"Yep. The kids designed their own flag, and I'm putting them together to hang around the classroom. Oh!" You pick up one of the younger students' flags, showing Jooyeon a doodle of two stick figures. "Guess whose this is?"

Jooyeon squints at it for a few moments. Then he breaks into a smile and snickers, holding the other side of the flag in such a way that his fingertips meet yours underneath the paper.

"Shit, that's me! This's gotta be Hongseok's flag." He points at the taller stick figure, squiggled ponytail and all, running after the shorter stick figure. "This isn't true, by the way. He's never actually beaten me in a race yet."

"Really?" A proud nod. "Congrats on winning against a nine-year-old."

"He's the fastest kid in his class!"

You snort, letting go of the flag to cross your arms. "Y'know, most adults would let him win at least once. To encourage him?"

At that, Jooyeon shakes his head. "Nine-year-olds are smart enough to catch onto stuff like that. I'm teaching him persistence," he says. "Plus, I told him if he ever beat me, he wouldn't have to do P.E. for the rest of the year. I don't think the principal would like that."

"Ah, geez."

He sets the flag down with care, placing it where it had been before you'd picked it up. His eyes meet yours before he leans in conspiratorially. Your skin prickles in delight, even more so when his voice dips the slightest bit lower to accommodate the close proximity.

"I was the Hongseok in my class. It's bad to have favorites, but you won't tell on me, right?"

You swallow. "How can I, when you're my favorite teacher?"

"Aw, I am?"

"Don't look so smug. You already know that."

"I do?"

He seems to lean closer. The sunlight streaming through the window hits his skin and turns his eyes amber.

You have the sense to pull away and fuss with your flag project, adjusting the spacing for no particular reason. Dammit. You wish you had the guts to say something.

Jooyeon sticks by you nonetheless, still chipper.

"Since I'm your favorite teacher," he says, "do you want to take a lap around the track?"

You blink at him. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, of course."

"I'm working."

"And how much have you gotten done since you started talking to me?" You open your mouth to protest, but he powers forward. "Just one lap. Exercise is important. Come on," he urges, shaking your shoulder. "It'll just be you and me. Don't you want to try to beat me in a race?"

You narrow your eyes. "'Try'?"

"Well, you said it yourself that you're slow."

And that's how you end up outside, tightening the knots of your shoelaces as Jooyeon hops up and down next to you on the school's running track.

"Ready yet?"

"Yep." You stand up and stretch your arms half-heartedly, wondering how liking your coworker this much has led to this situation.

"Okay," he chirps, leaning forward into position. You copy him. "One lap. Three, two, one, go!"

With that, Lee Jooyeon leaves you in the dust, practically halfway around the track by the time you register what had happened.

Gritting your teeth, you chase after him, pumping your arms in an attempt to catch up. He looks back more than once to see how far you are behind him, and you make a face at him whenever he does so. The promise of only one lap disappears from the back of your mind as you continue running after him after he's crossed the starting line.

"What! I won already!" he yells over his shoulder, fleeing to the grassy area inside the track.

"Yeah, so let me give you your prize!"

"No way!"

Still, he eventually stops short, whether out of belated pity or fatigue, and you barrel into him with reckless abandon.

The grass is slightly damp. Jooyeon topples over, bringing you along with him, and the two of you land with a groan.

"Ow, shit."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay."

With him on his back and you on your stomach, one of your arms splayed across his chest, you start to remove yourself from him to push yourself up. A hand closes around your wrist before you can fully do so.

"Wait," Jooyeon says quickly, breathless. You lock eyes with him; his face is flushed and his gaze is wide. "What's my prize?"

You struggle to catch your breath. It seems much harder to do now. "I thought you didn't want it."

"I changed my mind."

"Hm." The sound that leaves your throat is rough. How can it not be, when Lee Jooyeon is staring up at you like that? You wet your lips and he seems to lock onto the movement. There are a million ways to answer him, but your mind is fuzzy from adrenaline and the lack of distance, and the only thing you can come up with is, "What if you don't like it?"

"I'll like it." There's not a shred of doubt in his tone, but it's raspy. "Pretty sure you'll like it too."

It's all the encouragement you need.

His other hand moves to the back of your head as you lean down and press your lips to his.

It's a short one. The groan Jooyeon lets out is enough to make you dizzy and his mouth is so soft you want to melt into it, but your stupid lungs still feel like they're going to collapse and you pull away to save them. Blood pounds in your ears, your chest heaving against his, and you almost don't know where your breaths stop and his begin.

Finally, you break the silence. "Does this mean we're work spouses now?"

Jooyeon stares at you, flabbergasted. "We better be more than that," he retorts, "'cause I'm gonna want you on top of me every single day."

You tap his chest, shushing him, and he laughs, pulling you in to peck your lips once more. And it's just as good as the first time.