#you have NO idea how happy this ask made me!!!

[apatheticsunday]

Manifest Destiny

AKA "Danny knows about Bruce Wayne's little adoption habit, so he actively fights back by making digs at the older man's age. He doesn't realize he essentially adopted himself by calling Bruce 'grandpa'!" prompt idea!!

Okay, so 19-year-old Jazz moves to Gotham because Arkham has an psychiatrist internship that guarantees a job after graduation from Gotham-U. She takes a 12-13 year old Danny with because the "ghost attacks" (i.e., her parents are getting very obsessed with dissecting Phantom and it's genuinely worrying) are getting worse. Now Danny's in Gotham Prep... along with Damian Wayne.

They do not get along.

Damian stabs Danny with a pencil, Danny bites Damian so hard that he needs stitches, and the detentions only increase their bloodthirst because, "He started it!!" It comes to a head when Damian shoves Danny down the stairs (he wasn't really meaning to, he just pushed too hard), and Danny goes down hard. As in not-getting-back-up kind of hard. And Damian realizes he just killed a civilian. He's running through contingency plans, trying to figure out whether he can hide the body or if he should confess to Father, when the Fenton boy's broken neck... becomes un-broken?? And he sits up??

So, 13-year-old Damian makes a logical decision. Daniel Fenton is clearly his Arch Nemesis. He's undeniably a meta (perhaps with super-healing abilities?) so he can withstand Damian's too-enthusiastic violence. And Danny's like, this fucker just killed me. I'm going to beat his ass. Except Damian has a really high pain tolerance and is literally the heir to the League of Assassins. Long story short, Damian and Danny have "play dates" where they spend the entire time trying to kill/beat each other up. Jazz is just happy that Danny seems to have made a friend.

Bruce, on the other hand, takes one look at a scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed kid who clearly has some childhood trauma, and mentally becomes Bat Dad. He tried to approach the subject once. Bruce carefully, tentatively asked, "Do you have a place to stay, son? We have plenty of rooms." To which Danny replied, "I'm not your son, I have a dad!! Why don't you go sit down before you break a hip, grandpa!!" (Tim choked on his tea, Damian nearly climbed across the table to strangle Danny, and Dick - who doesn't even live at the manor, he was just dropping off a case from Bludhaven PD - laughed so hard he cried.)

Except... Danny keeps coming over to the Wayne Manor (since Damian refuses to 'spar' at Jazz's one bedroom apartment, as it lacks a personal gymnasium). And Bruce is still kind, no matter how many times Danny makes fun of him for wearing bifocals or turtlenecks, or when he just straight up calls Bruce an old man. Plus, Damian's kind of mellowed out, too. He's teaching Danny actual sparring techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and explains different types of weapons/how to use them. Alfred brings the boys snacks. Occasionally Dick and Jason will visit for dinner, ruffling the boy's hair and joking about something or another. He's even introduced to Steph, Cass, and Barbara.

It dawns on Danny one evening, when Alfred is readying the car to take him back to his and Jazz's apartment. Bruce is scraping leftovers into a plastic container for Jazz to re-heat when he gets home and Danny's debating quietly with Damian about whether octopi are smarter than Superman. (Damian says yes, octopi are definitely smarter; he's seen Superman mutter to himself "lefty loosey, righty tighty" when trying to unscrew a water bottle cap.)

Then Bruce is handing Danny the leftovers, and Danny distractedly gives Bruce a side-hug, saying, "Thanks, grandpa."

Totally unironically. Danny's internal monologue is just what the fuck did I just say as Bruce slips him a $20 ("For a treat on the way home.") and escorts him to the front door. He thinks about it as Alfred drives him home. Thinks about it when he and Jazz curl up to watch a movie that night. Danny belatedly realizes that he's been unintentionally thinking of Bruce "Serial Adopter" Wayne as his grandfather??? For months now?? How could this happen??

Back at the Wayne Manor, Bruce is still in the kitchen, listening to Damian continue to debate Superman's intelligence while Tim scrolls on his work tablet. He'll probably take the kids, including the newest edition to the family, to the zoo this weekend.

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

How the LADS men react to their gf showing physical affection, who is a bit scared to show affection

A/N: a post with all the lads boys this time...hopefully I did them justice

Tags/warnings: she/her pronouns used (should i try using gender neutral terms?), s/o has a little fear of vulnerability (can you see a pattern haha), s/o in raf's may be a bit too specific (she is described to have a passion for music), fluff <3

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Rafayel 

Music softly filled the living room of the artist's house. A classic played, one of Beethoven's symphonies. Rafayel always experimented painting with different music playing, seeing what emotions it could evoke. His girlfriend loved that about him, as she had a passion for music. She smiled softly as she stood in the hallway. Rafayel sat on a stool, his back to her, an easel and canvas in front of him, a brush slowly moving across it. Y/n didn't want to interrupt, really. But a recent breakdown has caused the couple to have a conversation and she promised she would try to be more vulnerable with him. Even though it scared her. She wanted to start small. Right now she really really wanted a hug from her boyfriend. That shouldn't be too much to ask. 

Nervously, she made her way into the room and approached Rafayel. She hesitated for a moment, but continued. “Cutie?” Rafayel questioned, hearing footsteps, but not turning to look or stop his painting. Y/n said nothing and waited for his brush to finish the stroke before nervously wrapping her arms around him, placing her head onto his back. She felt extremely embarrassed. There was no reason to. This was Rafayel. Her Rafayel. Her boyfriend. The man let out a soft gasp in surprise and tensed up. “Wha- you-” he spluttered. 

“Wan’ a hug,” she mumbled into his back. It took Rafayel a moment to process, not used to the sudden display of affection from his lover. When his brain began to work again, his heart soared. He placed his pallet and brush down before turning around and wrapping his arms around her, squeezing her almost too much with a happy giggle. “Mmm. What should I do? This painting has to be done by tomorrow, but my baby needs my cuddles,” he sighed. Y/n tried to back away, not wanting to harm his work. Her ears still burned with embarrassment and she was sure her face matched. Maybe this was all a bad idea. Rafayel wouldn't let her break away, pulling her closer. 

“Sorry, I'll-” she began, but was interrupted by Rafayel quickly dropping his arms to hold her thighs and lift her into his arms. 

“Ah well, what can you do,” he sang. Y/n glanced up at him to see a huge, dorky smile on his face. “Feels even better when you initiate a hug then me hugging you,” he admitted. The girl felt her face flush again and she hid her face in his neck. “Cute,” he pressed a kiss to her hair. “But seriously, I know that was hard for you. I admire your vulnerability. And of course I will happily cuddle you for the rest of the night! Should we head to bed early or watch that movie you wanted?” The girl was speechless and just shrugged, making him laugh. “Aww is my cutie still embarrassed? There's nothing to be embarrassed about.” She whined in response. She felt her weight shift as Rafayel sat down on his couch. Rafayel hummed. “Can I make you be a bit more vulnerable and give me a kiss?” He asked. Y/n sighed and took a brief moment to breathe before lifting her face to look at him. She quickly kissed his lips before returning to her hiding spot. Rafayel couldn't hold back his laugh, holding her tightly as he shook with laughter. 

Minutes later, she heard the TV turn on, the pre-movie credits playing. Rafayel moved his girlfriend somewhat begrudgingly, so that she was now sitting next to him, her legs across his lap. She looked at him confused. He nodded towards the TV. “Kind of hard for you to watch if you're just pressed against my chest, no?” He asked, moving his arm to wrap around her back, the other reaching for her hand and placing a kiss on it. “And don't worry, I'll definitely be getting my real kiss later. As many as I want,” he winked at her. Safe to say he did not complete his painting that night, which wasn't abnormal for the artist. He had more important things to do. 

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Sylus 

The Onychinus base was dark. A few lights leading y/n to the boss. Sylus was in his study, working on something. She wasn't sure what, but she didn't intend to stay long. It weighed heavily on her mind that she never initiated any physical contact with Sylus, her boyfriend. He hadn't said anything, but she had been in her head about it. If she were dating someone and they never initiated anything, she'd think they didn't really like her. She didn't want Sylus to think that. The problem was she's not good at initiating contact. It terrifies her. So even when she wanted to, she held back. But after thinking, she decided she would initiate physical contact, no matter how scary. Starting small of course. Today's plan of action? A hug before she went off to bed. It wasn't unusual for her to say goodnight to the man, but he was always the one to wave her over to hug or kiss her. Tonight she wasn't going to let him. 

The girl softly knocked on the door, opening it slowly and peeking in. Sylus’s brow raised, pleased by the sudden interruption. He looked down at his watch, unaware of his girlfriend swiftly making her way across the room. He opened his mouth to speak, but was shocked by how close she now was. Wordlessly, she climbed into his chair with him, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around him. “Just wanted to say goodnight,” she whispered. Y/n wanted to sound confident, but her voice betrayed her, shaking slightly. Sylus smiled, his large hands resting on her back. “This is quite the surprise,” Sylus began, not wanting to push her too far. Of course he had noticed his girlfriend's behavior. He could tell when she wanted a hug or kiss, but then did nothing about it. He didn't say anything, not wanting to push her and trusting she would when she was ready. It didn't bother him that she never kissed him. It bothered him that she wanted to kiss him, but didn't. Sylus was determined to do everything in his power to let you be comfortable to take what you wanted from him. “I always come say goodnight,” y/n tried to play off the action. He chuckled. 

“Yes, and I love that. But,” he hesitated, unsure how to put his feelings into words that wouldn't hurt her unintentionally. “You never do this. Not that I mind. I'm happy you're finally taking what you want from me.” 

“Can I take more?” She quietly asked. 

“You can take anything and everything from me,” he replied. 

“Come to bed? At least for a little bit. I know you have work to do, but-” she was cut off by Sylus standing, carrying her to his bedroom. He placed her down gently, tucking her into bed before getting in next to her and wrapping his arms around her again, her head tucked into his neck. He lifted her head and pressed a slow kiss to her lips, appreciating her actions. “Take whatever you want. Goodnight, love.” 

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Xavier 

Y/n paced back and forth in her apartment. She had woken up in the middle of the night, a nightmare interrupting her sleep. What had caused her to pace however, was a decision she had to make. Her dreams had been plagued with memories of what happened to her grandmother, her death anniversary coming up. When she woke up, she felt horribly lonely and the thought of her boyfriend a few apartments down almost made it worse. She was an adult, she could handle a little nightmare and just go back to bed. Or she could get in the elevator and go see Xavier. He wouldn't mind, right? But her boyfriend loved his sleep. Like a lot. She didn't want to interrupt that. Plus he had just gotten back from a mission, only texting to let her know he got back safe and was headed to bed. She decided she could be stealthy enough, putting on some slippers and heading out the door. 

The building was quiet, which made sense because it was the middle of the night. But it was cold and y/n regretted not grabbing a coat, only in her pj's. The elevator seemed to move slower and she wondered if she should just turn around and deal with this alone as she always had. But the last time she had a nightmare, Xavier happened to be over and she told him she would come to him if it happened again. She technically already broke that promise, having a similar dream soon after but dealing with it alone. This one however, felt more intense. She would not be getting any sleep after it. The bell dinged and she excited the elevator, walking over to his apartment. 

She didn't bother knocking, just using the spare key he gave her and opening the door suddenly. She was a bit surprised to see her boyfriend asleep on the couch- his arm draping off the side. This presented a new problem. He was clearly so tired after the mission, he passed out on the couch, still wearing his uniform. Y/n bit her lip in thought. Her original plan was to just get into bed next to him and sleep, but that wasn't possible with him on the couch. She'd have to wake him up. She'd have to tell him about her nightmare and that she wanted to stay with him. It was too much. As she turned to leave, she was stopped. “Is that you y/n?” Xavier had spoken through a yawn. “Are you okay?” Her hand froze on the doorknob of his door, not knowing if she should book it or not. But she wanted to get some rest. She wanted her boyfriend's comfort. 

“I had another nightmare,” y/n finally said, turning around to see her boyfriend now sitting up on the couch. He smiled sleepily at her. “Mm come to bed with me. Too cold to sleep alone anyway,” he stood, stretching. She nodded and walked over to him, unable to hold back and hugging him. He held her back, saying nothing even when he felt a few hot tears fall on his shoulder. “You're okay now. Thank you for coming to me,” he whispered to her. She nodded and backed away. Xavier gently wiped her face with his fingers. “Let me change and I'll meet you in bed?” She nodded and they headed to his room. 

Once in something more comfortable, Xavier got into his bed, spooning his girlfriend. He sighed happily, nuzzling into her neck. Y/n felt better. Warm. Being held by the one she loved most, she was able to find rest that night. 

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Zayne 

When the door to his apartment opened, Zayne was greeted by his girlfriend wrapping her arms around him. He was a bit surprised, not expecting her to be there. He hugged her back, not letting go. He always made sure to not let go first, knowing his girlfriend. She struggled to show her affection, so when she did he made sure to not break away early, soaking up all the affection he could from her. Usually, her hugs were brief, but today's wasn't. She held onto him, breathing in his scent. Zayne hesitated for a moment on whether to let go. But decided against it, thinking there must be a reason. “You smell good,” y/n murmured. 

“Is that so? I just got out of a five hour surgery,” he questioned. Maybe she believed she needed a reason to hug him longer than normal because he surely didn't smell good. 

“Oh,” she hesitated, her excuse nullified. 

“Is everything okay?” Zayne softly asked. 

“Yeah, I just,” she hesitated again. “Wanna hold you. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” he smiled. “Not that I want to let you go, but what is that smell?” 

“Oh, I cooked you some dinner. I figured you'd be hungry.” 

“You didn't have to do that.” 

“I know,” she replied, breaking away from the hug to look at him and smile. “I just wanted to. I figured we could eat and then watch a movie tonight?” 

“Sounds lovely. Let me go wash up,” he smiled at her before disappearing into his room. Y/n moved to his kitchen, playing the food she had prepared for them. Nothing fancy, but tasty nonetheless. Zayne had returned unnoticed, only making himself known when he wrapped his arms around her, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek. The two said nothing, only swaying in the kitchen to unheard music. “The foods gonna get cold,” y/n warned. Zayne sighed, but agreed, releasing her to sit down and eat. 

Zayne has refused to let y/n do the dishes after they had finished. Arguing that she had done so much to prepare it, it was only fair he cleaned up. She eventually listened, going to set up the movie in the living room. He joined her, sitting down next to her and grabbing a side blanket- her favorite. Even though she bought the blanket for him to “liven up his house”, she used it anytime she came over, snuggling into it. When the movie began, Zayne watched as his girlfriend excitedly cuddled up to him, pulling the blanket onto them both. They were quiet for a while, enjoying each other's company and the movie. The movie had slowed, the plot not being very intense. “You know you don't have to do all of this to cuddle with me,” Zayne whispered to her. She nodded, blushing slightly. 

“I know. I wanted to. It somehow makes it easier than outright asking for you to hold me. That still scares me,” she admitted. 

“Well first off, thank you for the dinner and everything. It was very nice. Second, you don't have to say anything or do anything grand. You can just pull me down here to the couch or bed and I'll happily hold you as long as you need. I know you show your love through actions, so I'm not saying to stop doing that. I'm just saying it's not necessary or a prerequisite to physical touch,” he explained. She nodded and looked at him with a smile. 

“I know, promise. It's nice to hear I don't have to get to the point of straight up asking you for what I want though. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough.” 

“And if not, that's okay. I like to think I know you pretty well and can understand your hints no matter how small.” 

“Oh really? Then what do I want right now?” She asked, eyes sparkling.

“A kiss,” he answered simply, leaning in to do just that. When he pulled back, he noticed her face erupted into a cute blush. “Was I wrong?” He asked. She shook her head, embarrassed that he truly had known. No one else had ever paid that much attention to her. “I love you Zayne,” y/n told him. 

“And I love you too.” 

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Caleb 

It was surprising to y/n that she struggled to be “touchy feely” with her current boyfriend. They were childhood friends after all. She was more comfortable with him than anyone, even after everything that happened. Caleb never said anything about it, probably knowing she had this struggle with everyone. He never pushed it either. To him, that's just his girlfriend. She's everything he's ever wanted and more. Sure, she struggles to be a bit vulnerable and come to him for a hug or cuddle or kiss, but that was okay. He was happy to initiate all of that. But for y/n, it was something that made her insecure. In relationships, you were supposed to hug and kiss and sure she and Caleb did, but she never kissed him. She had hugged him plenty of times, but holding his hand and kissing him was another story. She wanted to, of course, they were dating now. But it terrified her for some reason. The judgement from others maybe was part of it, another that for some reason if she initiated anything Caleb would be disgusted with her. She knew it was irrational, but that didn't make it any easier. 

Today was one of the rare days they both had off and Caleb was in town. They had spent most of the day indoors, playing games, ordering food and spending time with each other. But after a while, they got a little stir crazy and decided to head to a nearby park to go on a little walk and then maybe grab some dinner. The sun was out and it overall was a beautiful day. They walked down the path, chatting and messing around with each other. Y/n had run ahead, telling Caleb that he was still the slowest person ever. When he caught up, her heart thumped in her chest, more so due to nerves than the exercise. She tried to be as natural as possible as she grabbed his hand next to hers, holding it and swinging it slightly by her side. She said nothing. She couldn't even look at him, suddenly finding the trees around them to be the most interesting thing she's ever seen. But the flush of her cheeks told a different story. 

When Caleb felt his girlfriend's soft fingers hold his, he thought his heart would combust. He immediately turned to her, to find her blushing and looking away. He was shocked, knowing that this was something that was hard for her. He always said that it was okay she never held his hand out kissed him and he really thought that. But now he wasn't so sure he could go back. “Someones gotten braver,” he commented, making her pout. 

“It's just hand holding,” she muttered, moving their hands in front of them so they could see their hands intertwined. “Oh really? But you've never grabbed mine before,” he reasoned. She dropped their hands back to their sides. 

“Yeah well, a lot has changed,” she shrugged, trying to play it cool. Caleb laughed at her. “I returned almost a year ago and we started dating soon after. And only now you take my hand?” He teased. “Something big must have changed in the past two weeks.” 

“Yep,” she agreed, not breaking her act. “So much has changed that I can even do this.” She suddenly stopped walking and pressed a kiss to his lips. Caleb froze and she took the opportunity to let go of his hand and run away. When he returned to reality, he heard her laughing, his personal favorite song as she ran away from him. “Don't think you can get away with that!” He called after her, running to catch up, a huge grin on his face.

[the-secret-formulaone]

DARLING, HOLD MY HAND

prompt: your new manicure has oscar's brain short circuiting

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

word count: ~1.8k

warnings: 18+, cursing, handjob, very tame

a/n: this was purely impulsive and self-indulgent. i got my nails done today and this is how i feel about them and how i'd like my boyfriend (if i had one) to react.

this oneshot is very fluff and only a tinsy bit spicy. the smut is not the main point hence why it's not my best work but it's enjoyable! [and a bit nasty hehe]

this is my offering to the oscar girlies who constantly keep me fed with his fluffy fics. i owe the oscar girlies everything. they are some of the best writers in this platform. idk if it's them or oscar which have that secret ingredient.

enjoy!

You love to get your nails done. Every couple of weeks you make an appointment and go get your nails done without fault.

Oscar knew not to mess with that.

From the day he met you, you've had your nails done. He can't recall if he's ever seen you without nail polish and it's been a couple of years since you got together.

You often mention how having your nails bare makes you feel naked. It’s part of your identity it’s what makes you…you.

Oscar doesn't mind in the slightest. It's one of your quirks and he respects it. Whenever you come home with new nails you'll show him excitedly and he'll tell you they look good promptly returning to your lives.

You've taught him to always remind you if he has an important event to attend or a vacation planned so you can fit in your nail appointment before then. Yes, you cared about your hair and your makeup and your outfits but your nails where everything. A priority.

Oscar has been witness to the catastrophe that is breaking a nail. He will follow along your lead and nod at how it sucks and it’s the worst thing to ever happen.

He thinks it's cute how you will look at your hand and huff in annoyance at the mismatched length the days leading up to the appointment. The same one you bumped up on your schedule.

The one thing Oscar never counted on was his brain chemistry changing after one particular manicure.

He's home chilling watching TV. You've been gone for a couple of hours to get your nails done. He doesn't dare to make plans at that time knowing you'll chose to get your nails done over doing whatever with him.

You'd never cancel on your nail tech the same day, especially after browsing for new nail art for days in preparation. He doesn't argue with your routine lets you be. Oscar knows the drill already.

The door opening and your keys jingling tells him everything he needs to know. "Osc, I'm home," you call out to him, leaving your bag and coat by the door.

You pad down to the living room where he's sprawled out on the couch, grey sweatpants and hoodie covering his fit body. You smile at the sight, you have such a lovely boyfriend.

"Hey babe, how was your appointment?" He asks, looking away from the TV to spare you a glance.

"It was great. Look at my nails," you squeal, falling beside him on the couch and showing him your nails. You stretch your arms in front of you, putting your hands right on his eye line.

You finally bit the bullet and got the famous cat eye nails. Tired of the Pinterest girlies living their best lives with sparkly nails without you, you paid the extra fee to join them.

The nude color shimmered in magnetically designed patters with every move of your fingers. You spent the whole way home oohing and awing at how spectacular they looked. They say money can't buy happiness but you're pretty damn happy with your manicure.

Oscar stares blankly, watching the shimmering polish catch the light. He's never had an opinion on your choice of color or design, everything you picked suit you and was pretty even if you voiced your disappointment about how your idea panned didn’t pan out as you imagined.

But this manicure in particular made his brain short circuit. He felt like a magpie chasing after something shiny. The more you wiggled your fingers, the more tranced he was.

"Osc?"

"That's pretty neat. Is this the first time you do that color?" He asks, knowing the answer because there's no way he missed this before.

"Yeah, it's a fairly new popular type of polish. Had to pay extra though," you shrug, taking your varnished fingers away from his face. He almost had half a mind to pull your hands back to keep starring.

"Huh," he says, returning to the TV as you settle more comfortably beside him to scroll on your phone.

As the days go by he's hyper focused on your nails. Always observing the cute way the light hits them and how they make your hands look very attractive. In his eyes it's so classy and sexy. Oscar can't explain it properly.

It’s not like your hands changed or the shape of your nails. It’s the eye catching shimmer that has him in a trance. He panics on the inside about seemingly developing a new kink based on the color of your nails. It’s a new low even for him.

You and Oscar aren't the type to hold hands all the time, but ever since you changed your manicure he's been holding them non stop to watch the fine glitter shift with the angle of the light.

You're the type of person to talk with your hands so whenever you're having a conversation with your boyfriend you catch his eyes following your hands. He's obsessed and you love it.

You say nothing, letting him have his fun. You won't ever turn down your boy for admiring one of your favorite things. Your phone is filled with pictures of your new manicure so you understand him perfectly.

Oscar has half the mind to give you more money just so you can tip your nail tech extra. Hell, he'll send them to her with a small thank you note. He feels indebted.

One morning, the brightness of a new day wakes him up. Oscar forgot to shut the blinds the night before. You never do because you like to fall asleep looking at the night sky.

It's cheesy and Oscar teases you about it endlessly, but being the good boyfriend he is he takes on the responsibility of shutting them every night so the sun doesn’t disturb you in the morning.

You're asleep on your side, facing him. Your hand resting between the two of you. The promise ring he gave you glints with the sunlight along with your pretty nails.

He touches the varnish lightly with his finger tips, admiring it once more. Grabbing your hand, he kisses each one of your fingertips, following your hand, your wrist and up your arm.

He might as well take advantage of waking you from your peaceful state after you begged him to the day before. You wanted to see him before he left to work out and meet with his team.

He kisses your shoulder softly, before burying his head on your neck. "Wake up, love," he whispers into your ear. His voice heavy with sleep still.

"Hmm," you whine, throwing your arm around Oscar to hug him close. "Five more minutes," you groan as your nails come up to his head to scratch his head.

"I have to go," he laughs softly, but he relaxes in your arms, enjoying the feel of your nails on his scalp.

"Five more minutes." He can hear the pout on your voice so he stays in place, face on your neck and arm thrown around your waist. Oscar closes his eyes and enjoys the affection you're so freely offering.

Throughout it all, Oscar comes to realize that your nails look the best when your hand is wrapped around his cock with the flash of his phone shining down on them as he records the moment.

He records intimate moments between the two of you often for when he's away on a race and you can't join him. Sometimes the time zone difference don’t let you help him and he has to depend on these videos he has tucked away on a locked folder of his phone.

"Fuck, that's it baby," Oscar groans as your hand pumps his hard cock up and down. You're lying down next to him, kissing his neck while reminding yourself not to leave any hickeys.

Oscar has gotten in trouble for that before.

Your hands are shiny from the lube you applied all over his length to make your job easier. Other times, you'd have your mouth and hands all over him but he requested this so, who are you to say otherwise?

The nail polish and the shimmers pop with the harsh white light of the flash and Oscar knows this will be in his favorites folder for months to come. You swipe his tip with your thumb, stimulating the sensitive area.

Oscar's hips jerk against your hand and a groan spills from his lips. You whisper in his ear, praising him and talking dirty. Comments that will leave him blushing when he randomly remembers them in the middle of the day.

His cock was throbbing and leaking precum all over your palm. "I love it when you get messy, Osc," you brush your lips on the shell of his ear and feel him shiver.

Your teeth sink into his earlobe, making him groan. You're playing dirty, you know Oscar's sweet spot is in his ear.

Oscar moans your name, tearing his gaze from the phone on his hand to press his lips against yours in a wet kiss. He hisses into the kiss as you carefully grip his cock tighter.

"I'm gonna cum," he moans, shutting his eyes tightly as his head falls back. The phone falls on his stomach as he chooses to grasp at the crisp white bedsheets. You grab it with your free hand, finishing his job of recording as you speed up.

His cock is slick with lube and precum, his tip a bright pink as it swells up. You record as your hand slips up and down firmly, Oscar's hips stutter, chasing his release. One of his hands gripping your side tightly as the other joins yours on his cock.

In a matter of seconds, Oscar cums as his moans echo in the dark bedroom. Sticky, white covers his cock, his thighs, his stomach and your hands. You turn the phone in your direction, licking the cum off your fingers, savoring the taste of him. Nails glint mischievously at him. With a cheeky wink, you blow a kiss into the camera and wave, stopping the recording.

It's definitely being saved to his favorites.

Everyone typically hates Monday's unless it's a festive day but not Oscar. Oscar likes them because he can rest after a stressful race weekend.

That was until disaster struck on a Monday and then he understood everyone's hatred of the day.

"Oscar, I'm home," you sing, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the table by the door. You bounce into the kitchen excitedly finding him preparing a smoothie.

"Hey babe," Oscar greets you as he drops the fruit into the blender, leaning down when you tug his hoodie to drop a kiss on his cheek.

"Look at my new nails," you giggle, extending your hand in front of his face.

Oscar feels his face fall at the new color varnish. It's a pretty red that compliments your skin well but it's not the cat eye nail polish as he's come to learn it's called. Many men would love the sexy red color and he does like it but he much preferred the other one.

"What happened to the other color?" He lets slip as he holds in his horror.

"What do you mean? Osc, my nails were falling apart, you know I change them every couple of weeks," you say, tilting your head in question.

The polish was starting to lift at the edges and you hate when your hair gets stuck on it. Only Oscar was allowed to pull your hair.

"Oh," he says plainly, hiding his disappointment.

"You don't like them?" You ask him, inspecting the color yourself to see if there was something he noticed that you didn't, but the red color looked perfect.

"No, no," Oscar is quick to reply, grabbing hold of your hands and giving a kiss to the back of each one, "They look perfect as always. I just really liked that other color is all."

"Oh okay," you sigh, pecking his lips, "I'll keep that in mind for the future, Osc."

Something lights up in Oscars eyes. "So you'll get them done like that next time?"

"God no," you giggle, patting his cheek, "We'll be right in the middle of the summer. I was thinking about something bright, like orange!"

Oscar sighs in defeat but he smiles at you and nods. He lets you go do your own thing as he finishes his smoothie. The loud whirring of the blender a representation of how he's crying on the inside.

thoughts?? prayers?? complaints?? applause??

hope you liked it!!

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Yeah, the whole "ask the autistic kid a pointed question to get a funny answer with which to demean them" thing was a real motif for me too, back when I was growing up. Actually, I think it's part of a wider trend with bullies. They're not clever, but they possess the low, animal cunning of rat, or maybe a ferret. They'll find the thing that seems trivial to the authority figures in your life but which matters SO SO MUCH to you, and that's what they'll use to get at you. I do think being the kid on the receiving end of that has one thing to be said for it: it gives you a really good sense of what humans are. I went through a lot of bullying - most of it baiting me to see how long it would take me to blow my top and go beserk, but quite a bit of physical abuse, too. I don't consider myself traumatised as per the original post, but I think I have a very fucking clear idea of what the human animal is when you peel off its mask of civility and sophistication. When people see you as a victim- as someone who can't defend themselves- they get very comfortable showing you who they really are. And more often than not, who they really are is a mean-spirited scumbag with the IQ of pond-slime. The good news? They're mean-spirited scumbags with the IQ of pond-slime, so sooner or later your life is going to be much richer, more interesting and more fulfilling than theirs, just because you're capable of joys and sorrows and passions that their invertebrate minds could never aspire to. Consider this the inspirational part of the blog post: you will love more fully than they will. You will live with less compromise. You will not be defined, as they are, by the miserable cycle of work, consumption and recouperation that capitalism has made of human existence, because you will have a developed and complex inner life denied to those insensitive blocks who seek to torment you. And, because you have seen what humans are really like, you will have an easier time identifying the people who aren't like that. One day, you will find your tribe in a way that they cannot, and belive me: you are mighty with your tribe. Yes, while you're going through bullying, it feels like they're predators and you're prey, but here's the thing: being predators is all they have. It's the only thing in their pointless, empty little lives and if they ever experience happiness, it's only because they're too dumb to realise how miserable they ought to be.

Now for the less inspirational bit. Yes, things do get better, but you've still got to get through the bullshit first. My advice? I don't have any, but I know what worked for me: violence. I think a lot of the reason I'm not wholly traumatised by my childhood and why I'm so much less bitter than I might otherwise be is that I defended myself in the most literal and primal sense at the time. That counts for more than we're willing to admit to in this neutred fucking age. Not every time (I was smart enough, even then, to realise that getting a reputation as a violent person could be a serious problem), but often enough that I can look back fondly on those rare, wonderful occasions when I just stopped taking it and lamped a cunt with the nearest blunt object instead. I can look myself in the eye (well, if there's a mirror handy, anyway) and say "I gave as good as I got and acquitted myself well". Doesn't do jack-shit in the short-term, because bullies are usually too fucking dumb to fear physical reprisal, but years later it helps keep the wolf from the door. I know that violence can backfire. I know that it can get folk institutionalised and that I was, in some ways, very lucky to grow up with a family who understood its uses and value on some level. I know that it can lead to escalation. But I also know that I've never regretted throwing a punch at someone who earned it and do regretted quite a few missed opportunities to throw one.

So yeah. Take that or leave it.

the thing that always gets me ESPECIALLY about autistic representation in media is that we are universally portrayed as happy-go-lucky, whimsical children, completely oblivious to the fact that the world constantly judges and scorns and HATES us.

We notice. I noticed. The reason I am as messed up as I am today is because i spent 20 LONG years in an environment where every day i was subjected to that. To noticing.

what an absolutely neurotypical view of us. Coddling themselves, getting to act like the way they treat us is fine because we don't understand that our peers dont respect us. Why would we? We're so subhuman to them, it's like asking if your cat notices you playfully insulting it.

Every autistic person I've ever met is on some level bitter and angry and TRAUMATIZED at their upbringing. Of having to go through school as the laughing stock, as the weirdo with no friends who no one wants to talk to, as the animal in the corner you can make do cheap tricks so they can experience some Simulacra of what genuine human connection is.

Now tell me, does it sound like I didn't notice?

[b0tster]

not much of an ask but i just wanted to thank you. as a young trans woman, you single handedly pushed me down a spiral that ended a period in my life where i was extremely confused about what i actually wanted to be, you have such swag that it genuinely helped me come to terms and actually made me LIKE the idea of being more butch and generally just, *cooler* >B3.

this is not to say you are a butch, I don't know how you present or what you prefer but, you look awesome, and it helped me further understand my own gender identity, and i really wanna thank you for that!

keep swagging on miss lilith!

im really happy u went down the path of self discovery. i dont even think i did anything, u simply found what was already there ❤️🖤

[halfway-happyyy]

Achilles' Heel - part I {Frank Castle}

"you are my achilles' heel, the weakness only i can feel" - leith ross

summary: in which of all the lost souls in new york city, an enterprising young woman has the misfortune of patching up The Punisher.

warnings include: mentions of violence, blood, etc. two people who could fill a cargo container five times over with their emotional baggage.

pairing: Frank Castle x female reader (she/her pronouns)

AN: i’m not entirely sure how this idea came to me, but here we are. i don’t claim to know much about sex workers (except that they deserve as much respect and love as anyone else), and like our main girl here, i certainly don’t claim to know much about medical intricacies, so go easy on me. happy reading friends 💖

As the opening notes to Billie Holliday’s P.S. I Love You rose above the muted static of her record player, her eyes fell shut in unconcealed ecstasy. A flash of lightning lit the otherwise caliginous night sky outside her living room window, and it occurred to her then, in the comfort of her own presence, that this was the first Saturday night she’d had off in months. There was a 2009 vintage red on the rack next to her player that she knew would pair excellently with her record, and just as she’d been about to reach for it, her phone rang, shattering her shallow illusion of peace. It briefly crossed her mind to let it ring, but when she saw that it was her friend, she quickly changed her mind. 

“Elena, this had better be good.” 

White noise reverberated on the other end before her friend elicited a hacking, wet cough. “Callie, I need a favour.” 

On account of her friend’s rare use of her real name, she knew immediately that whatever she was about to be asked, was serious. 

“I’m listening.” 

“I was supposed to do a job tonight- some boutique hotel up in hell’s kitchen, and I can barely get out of bed, let alone anything else.” A clap of thunder sounded closely outside, startling her, and the thought of going back out into the torrential downpour of the evening made her stomach churn with dread, but she let Elena continue. “It would mean the world to me if you took the call, Cal. The money’s good- 5 k upfront and he only needs about an hour of your time.” Elena sniffled and added, “It goes without saying but I will happily take the next call you don’t want to do.” 

It was apparent that whatever bug had brought her friend down had to have been a nasty one in order for her to turn down five thousand dollars for an evening.

“You sound like shit, E. Of course I’ll do it.”

She could still hear her friend chanting thankyouthankyouthankyou into the phone when she hung up. She cast a last, longing glance at the bottle in her rack and then begrudgingly went to her bedroom to change. 

Standing poised and slightly drenched in front of the hotel room door an hour later, she reluctantly knocked the way Elena’s text message had instructed and waited. Though the feeling was a rare one - she’d been playing the long game for a while now - apprehension swelled in the pit of her belly, and out of habit, she bent slightly to run a hand over the jagged outline of the knife in her boot; just feeling it was enough to put her nerves at ease for the time being. When her client still hadn’t answered the door, she became concerned that she’d had the wrong room, and just as she was about to double-check her messages, the door swung open. She hesitated a moment before entering, and when her eyes eventually adjusted to the dimly lit room, she noticed a man perched on the edge of the neatly made bed, staring off into the distance as if in a daze, and holding a hand to his side. An undetectable bite of something hung so heavily in the air that she could almost taste the slightly salty brine of it on her tongue. 

The man cleared his throat and rasped, “You Elena?” 

She took a tense breath and shook her head. “Elena was indisposed this evening. I’m Jane.”

She watched the man hang his head and elicit a string of rough curse words.

As the rain dried on her skin, annoyance swirled in her belly. “Excuse me, is there a problem?” 

A bark of laughter erupted from him, humorless and cold. “Yeah, there’s a fuckin’ problem. There was a reason I asked for her specifically.” 

Elena had briefly mentioned something about her client requesting a girl with a medical background, but they had both chalked that up to a kink he probably had. They decided that this was just going to be one of those times where she would have to fake it to make it. 

“Listen, pal, if it’s a nurse thing you’re after, I’m your gal. I’ve got a little paper hat and a stethoscope-

He cleared his throat and glanced up at her, and it was then that she noticed the complete state of disrepair the man was in, and the rest of the words fizzled in her throat. Her stomach plummeted when she realized the source of the metallic tang in the room was blood. His face seemed to have taken the worst of the damage; multiple shallow cuts oozed crimson, and a violet bruise bloomed under an umber eye that would surely take the form of a full-blown shiner in the morning. Her gaze traveled lower, to where his hand held his side, and bile rose in her throat as she noticed blood seeping out from between his fingers.

His voice was hoarse when he murmured, “Yeah kid. It’s a nurse thing I’m after alright.” 

Kid? Who on earth did this man think he was?

Her mouth had become void of moisture at some point, so when she tried to say that perhaps they had better call an ambulance, his face turned up in a scowl. “Beg your pardon?” 

She gestured toward the phone on the desk beside the television. “I don’t see why we can’t call for help…” 

He shook his head adamantly. “Nah. No hospitals, no cops, none'a that shit. You’re here now, and if you’re able, I could really use the help.” 

She could feel the ice-cold blooms of panic taking root in her, and as she glanced back towards the door, the urge to cut and run became all-encompassing. She wrung her hands together, at a complete loss for what to do.

“Look man, if you die on me- if you die here tonight, I’m screwed. Beyond screwed. And this may come as a shock to you, but I’m not exactly qualified to assist you with whatever this,” she gestured vaguely towards him. “Is.” 

His laughter was genuine this time, but it vanished quickly and was replaced with a grimace of sheer pain. “I ain’t dying, kid. Not tonight anyway. And even if I did, I know a couple of okay lawyers that could get you out of a bind no problem,” His gaze found hers again, and the unexpected earnestness in it nearly floored her. “Please.” 

She found herself nodding before she could fully talk herself out of it. “Oh christ, okay. What do you need?” 

He inhaled deeply and gestured with the jut of his chin to a medical kit that lay open on the desk beside the phone. “There’s a needle and some thread in there-

“No,” She shook her head. “No no no. I can’t.” 

He screwed his eyes shut and hissed out another expletive. “No pressure here, but there’s a high chance I’ll bleed out if you don’t and I’d do it myself, but I can’t quite reach it.” 

Despite the chaotic haze of the moment, it all began to make sense. Three years ago, and after a particularly bad year, Elena had quit her job as a charge nurse at Mount Sinai. His earlier statement about asking for her friend specifically chimed like a bell through her muddled mind.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you it was as easy as sewing drapes?” 

Disbelief clouded her features as she shook her head. “No, it would not.” 

She wandered over to the kit and peered in, noticing two spools of black and navy thread. She pulled them both out and asked if he’d had a preference over one, which made him snicker. 

“Black suits me just fine, kid.” 

She got to work threading the needle, and when that was finished, she approached him reluctantly.

“You always carry a medical kit with you?” 

The man tried to manage a shrug. “I’ve found it comes in handy from time to time.” 

She took a steadying breath. “Alright, I’m ready if you are.” 

He reached down to retrieve a half-empty bottle of whiskey, pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a hearty swig. When he set the bottle back down, he dropped his hand with a wince and proceeded to gingerly pull the t-shirt from his battered body. If she’d thought his face was bad, it was nothing compared to the carnage that littered his chest and abdomen. “Jesus,” She gasped. 

“Yeah well, you should see the other guy.” He managed between gritted teeth. 

He bore the faintly heady scent of gunsmoke and blood, and as she leaned closer to inspect the wound she murmured, “Judging by how this looks, I think the other guy may be dead.” 

He made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “I think you may be right.”

She quickly passed a square of gauze over the wound, ignoring the pained grunt that fell from the man’s mouth and sighed. “Do I get to know your name for this?” 

“You wanna know my real name? Or should I take a page outta your book and give you a fake one?” 

It was her turn to choke out a breathless laugh. “You sure talk a lot of shit for someone at the mercy of a complete stranger.” 

He hissed as the needle pierced his skin and managed a grunted, “Yeah well, this ain’t my first rodeo.” 

She was entirely unsurprised.

“It’s uh… It’s Frank.” he eventually croaked.

She was quiet as she tried her best to focus on the gruesome task at hand, but the insufficient lighting combined with the calamitous thunder outside made it all a bit harder than it needed to be. “Yeah well Frank, first aid 101 says that you don’t pull the protrusion from the wound until you seek proper medical help.” 

“Fuck,” He seethed when she pricked a particularly sensitive spot. “We got a smartass on our hands, I see. You gonna tell me your real name now?” 

She ignored that completely. “Hey, answer me this: there was no one else in your life that you could have called besides an escort agency to come fix you up?” She found the mere notion of it all inexplicably sad. 

Despite the pain he was in, a smirk ghosted his features. “I only got two people that I would trust my life with, and both of ‘em are uh… what’s the word you used earlier? Indisposed?”

He flinched and swore again.

“They’re indisposed at the moment. Plus, you offer much more of a view to look at than they do.” 

Jesus, the nerve on this guy. 

She gave her head a shake and huffed out an exasperated breath. “Well, I’m sure you’ll regret getting a hold of Elena when this thing heals. I’ve likely maimed you for the rest of your days.” 

“Pfft, have you seen the rest of me, kid? Add it to the pile.”

While she took stock of the rest of him, her gaze drifted to the gold wedding band on a chain around his neck. “Your wife know where you are?” 

Frank stiffened against her, eyes drifting to the ceiling above her head. “Nope.” 

“Lucky lady,” She murmured, as she finished the last stitch and tied off the end of the thread.

She watched Frank’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he uttered, “My wife’s dead.” 

Her eyes fell shut. “I’m so sorry.” 

He offered her a shrug, his face a blank page. “You didn’t know.” 

The room became quiet while she busied herself packing gauze over the wound and placing tape over it to keep it there. She hastily surveyed the rest of the damage that she could see and asked if there were any other problem areas she should know about.

Frank shook his head. “None that require any more of your fancy suture work.” He pulled the blood-stained t-shirt back over his head, shielding the carnage of his toned chest from her, and she ignored the surprising prick of disappointment as a result.

“Can’t imagine you get too many calls like this.” 

She let out a low whistle. “This one was definitely a first.” 

Frank tilted his head to the side, studying her. “I bet you see a lot of shit though, doing what you do.” 

Doing what you do. 

Selling your company, your time, your body for money. 

She stood from the bed then, and turned towards the direction of the washroom, desperately wanting to rid her hands of the sickeningly sticky feeling of his blood on them.

“Not as much shit as you see, doing what you do.” 

She took her time at the sink, methodically scrubbing away the gore under scalding water until it ran clear, and when she entered the room again, Frank had propped himself up against the headboard of the bed and was watching her.

“I meant no disrespect, kid. You gotta do what you gotta do.” 

She rolled her eyes and murmured an acerbic, “How progressive of you.” 

It was hard to miss the mischievous glitter in his eyes when he cocked his head to the side and asked, “Tell me something. You ever have to use that knife in your boot?” 

She couldn’t imagine how he’d known, and she tried in vain to keep her voice neutral when she shrugged and said, “Not yet, but you never know.” 

A smirk lifted his lips skyward as he echoed her words. “You never know.” 

She cleared her throat, suddenly desperate to change the subject. “The guy who did this to you… Is he really dead?” 

A shadow passed over Frank’s face; if she hadn’t been watching him already, she would have missed it entirely.

“Would you believe me if I told you he was better off that way?” 

For some inexplicable reason, she could believe it, but she didn’t need to confirm it because the knowing look on his face told her as much. 

She clocked the watch on the underside of her wrist. Twenty past midnight. Shit.

“Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave, Frank?”

He winced, shifting into a more comfortable position. “Yeah kid, you can tell me your name. And none of that Jane Doe horseshit.” 

She scoffed. “Why? What’s the point?” 

Frank’s gravelly just humor me, was so quiet she almost missed it.

She kicked at a stray pebble on the carpet and sighed in defeat. “It’s Calliope. But I go by Callie.” 

A smile grew on his face that caused a wave of butterflies to take flight in her belly, despite everything.

“Your folks Greek mythology buffs or Springsteen fans?” 

Her eyes widened in genuine shock. “Both, actually.” 

He nodded in satisfaction. “I got one more question for ya.” 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Seems you’re full of those tonight.”

“Why didn’t you just pass yourself off as Elena from the get-go?” 

She cast around for a suitable answer and eventually landed on, “You seem like the kind of guy who values honesty above most things.” 

The tension in the room seemed to reach a fever pitch as Frank’s gaze bore into hers, his expression unreadable. When the silence became too heavy, she broke it by inquiring about her payout.

Frank gestured to the desk beside the television. “It’s in the first drawer there.” 

She followed his instructions and pulled the sizable bundle of cash from it, turning back to him with her head cocked. “Well, I’d say it’s been a pleasure Frank, but I’d be lying.” 

He smiled wryly at her. “Stay safe out there, kid.” 

She hesitated a moment before turning towards the door. Her hand was on the handle when he called her name, and she slowly turned back to him. 

“What happens if I need your help again?” 

She let her mind wander a moment before shrugging. “Just shine your bat signal toward the sky, and I’ll get the hint. See ya around, Frank.”

Once outside in the hallway, she stumbled back against the wall and allowed herself a couple of heaving lungfuls of fresh air. She was moments away from stepping into the elevator when Frank’s wrecked voice caught her attention, and she turned to see him limping toward her, a small piece of paper in his grasp. 

“There’s just no keeping you down, is there?” she couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.

He shoved the paper toward her, his face serious. “This is my number. You ever get into trouble, you ever find yourself in a situation, you give me a call.” 

Her eyes widened in mild amusement. “Right, I’ll call you so that you can get yourself into the same situation as tonight. Seems smart.” 

He shook his head. “Look kid, I don’t care if you slam dunk it into the nearest trash can on your way out, just take it.” 

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. She grabbed the piece of paper and backed into it, giving him a small wave. “Bye, Frank.” 

He mirrored her wave. “Take care of yourself, Callie.” 

~

did i originally post this earlier and then come up with a title i liked more? we'll never know. stay tuned for part 2💙

[tigermark]

˗ˏˋ bf mark scenarios 𝜗𝜚

pairing : mark x fem!reader

genre : fluff like so fluffy like a cat like mark!!!

tw : established relationship, skinship

a/n : losing my mind over this man is like a pass-time for me... i'm so excited for the firstfruit ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ if u want more of these with other members or just with mark lmk!!! these were sm fun to write

bf!mark who cuddles you whenever and wherever, nuzzling against your neck with his nose. a movie played on your tv, long forgotten by mark, as you reached up to comb through his hair, his hand intertwining with your free one. he rests his whole body against yours, head resting against your shoulder affectionately. "y/n..." he whines. "we can't watch a movie and, like, not cuddle," he swears, making you smile as you wrap your arms around his waist.

bf!mark who plays with your hands for comfort, grounding him in certain situations. often you'll be at a restaurant or bar and he'll grab your hand and start fiddling with your fingers, switching his rings over to your fingers and so forth. he'd trace your palm and rub his fingers over the back of your hand as he admires how even such a small part of you can be so beautiful. his touches often times pull you out of your spacing out, and for mark it reminds him that you're there next to him.

bf!mark who always complains about hating ketchup but always forgets to ask for none on his burger. he always opens the bun, his lips forming into a pout as he looks up at you from across the table. when you ask him why he doesn't just tell the server that he doesn't want ketchup, he shrugs and slides the burger across the table so you can scrape it off for him with a french fry. "they're gonna think i'm weird or annoying..." he'd whine. and to which you'd inform him that they don't give a rats ass, all they want is the paycheck at the end of the week.

bf!mark who always writes songs for you and about you, strumming his guitar into the late hours of night. he'd sit on the floor as you laid in your bed across the room, scrolling on your phone. "y/n i think i've got it!" he'd say with so much enthusiasm you'd never believe he was whining to you about having no idea what to do with this song less than 5 minutes ago. he'd excitedly get up from the floor and sit next to you on your bed and play what he had written of the song. he'd kiss your forehead as you clapped and smiled once he finished, mainly happy he was able to make you proud and feel loved.

bf!mark who'd facetime you every chance he gets, sharing little tidbits of his day with you. from the person with the fugly outfit he saw to every last item he bought from the grocery store, he'd tell you everything with so much detail and emotion. he'd even call you while he made lunch, explaining the recipe to you like some sort of social media influencer. but before he'd hang up, he'd kiss his phone camera as if it was your forehead, making sure to say his final 'i love you's and 'i miss you's.

[sweetdispatch]

Plane seat - V. Mancini

masterlist pairing: Victor Mancini x fem!reader summary: You and Victor met on the way to Vancouver and slowly fell in love with each other warning: none note: special thank you to the person who asked if i can write something for moose and to @hockeyboistrash who made a super cute blurb with him! they motivated me to sat down and finish something that was laying in my drafts❤️

It was unexpected information. Victor found out that he’s traded to Vancouver and has to arrive there the next day. He packed the most important things into his bag and went to the airport. He didn’t know how to feel. He was aware that trades were happening but deep down he hoped to stay in New York. Now, he was sitting on the plane on his way to Canada, far away from his family and friends. 

You wished that the break would never be over. You were studying in Vancouver but your family was living in New York. Now, you have to come back to the reality of studying and working. You felt nostalgic. First week when you were back in Canada you were always sad that you’re again by yourself. You sat on the plane and noticed a cute guy sitting next to you. You smiled softly to him and Victor smiled back. 

Victor didn’t want to be nosey but he noticed that you were writing in your journal about hockey. He thought you were pretty and he was scared to just start talking but this felt like a perfect change. 

“Hi, I’m Victor and I noticed that you are writing about hockey and…” He didn’t know what to say more and hoped that you’ll talk back to him. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m trying to get the information written in my journal so I have an easier task when I get back home to make an article” You explained to him. 

“So you’re a journalist” Victor said and you giggled.

“Not really. I’m working for a hockey team and there’s been a trade so I need to write an article about it on the page” You showed him your notes. 

“I see my name here, I guess we’ll be working together” Victor pointed on your page to show you.

“I guess we’ll be” You smiled at him. 

For the rest of the flight, you and Victor had been talking about everything and nothing. You two understood each other. You proposed to him that he can stay in your apartment so he doesn’t have to pay for the hotel. At first, he was sceptical about this idea but you convinced him by telling that you’re alone in Vancouver just like he’s gonna be.

When you stepped into your place, you showed him your guest bedroom that now was his room. Victor thanked you and just like that, you two became roommates. You were happy that he agreed to stay with you because most of the time you were stuck by yourself in these four walls and now, you had someone to talk with. 

After a week, it turned out that you and Victor won’t be working together. He was glad about it because he really liked you but he knew how strict the rules are about dating in the workplace. He was training and playing with Canucks while you were doing your part in Abbotsford. It was a perfect solution for you two because you weren’t spending 24/7 together. 

Slowly, the feelings between you and Victor were growing. There were small touches when you were sitting in the living room and watching something or during dinner. He got a habit of kissing your cheek every time he was leaving for a roadie. Many nights you two were laying in your bedroom and just talking about how the day went. It was all perfect. 

With each day together, you were craving more of him. You wanted Victor to be yours. Everyday you wanted to scream that you wanted to kiss his lips and call him your boyfriend but you never did it. You didn’t want to ruin your living together. You didn’t want him to be scared and run away from you. You needed him close no matter how much it hurts you that it’s only friendship. 

What you didn’t know was that Victor wanted you too. Since the moment he saw you on the plane, he wanted to know you better and better. At every occasion he was implying that he wants more than just a friendship. He was kissing your cheek but he wished it was your lips. He was laying late at night in your bed but he wished he could sleep there and hug you tight. But you never reacted, you were always smiling but he didn’t know if this is because you’re polite or because you also want him. 

One night, changed completely the dynamic between you and Victor. He asked you to go with him as a plus one to one of his teammate’s birthday party. Happily you agreed to go with him. You thought that this would be a perfect opportunity to get closer to him and show him that you want him. And you did it but not the way you expected. You got drunk at the party and pulled Victor into a kiss. He was shocked at first but he reciprocated the kiss. 

The next morning you woke up with a hangover and went to grab water from the fridge. You noticed Victor sitting in the kitchen and eating breakfast. 

“Good morning” You greeted him but he didn’t say anything back. That was weird because he wasn’t the smiley and cheerful person like he always is. “Something happened?” You asked him. 

“Do you have any feelings for me?” Victor asked you out of blue. 

“Yeah, you’re my friend” You took a sip from the bottle. 

“Nothing more?” Victor tried to push you to talk. “Because after this kiss, I think we’re more than friends” The realisation hit you. You kissed him and didn’t say a word back. 

“Okay, the truth is that I have feelings for you. I have had them for a long time and I really wanted to tell you this but I was scared. I wanted to tell you this yesterday but I got so drunk that I only kissed you” You told him and looked at him and noticed a smile on his lips. 

“Good because I have feelings for you too. I tried to show you this but I never knew if this is mutual for you too and after that kiss, I knew I had to be sure” Victor stood up and placed a hand on your cheek, gently caressing it. 

“Kiss me please” You whispered and Victor pulled you into a kiss. 

[nightplvmes]

⋆｡° | winter ball date

⋆｡° | pairing : caleb x fem!reader/childhood friends | sfw, fluff, MDNI!

⋆｡° | word count : 1,200

⋆｡° | author’s note : this is an au, i think. i didn't want to put their ages, so you guys can imagine any age you want.

– likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :)

★ masterlist here

Caleb knocked on her bedroom door again. She hadn't left the room all day, and he was worried because she needed to eat. She had to eat sometime, right?

"I know you're there, I can hear you breathing," he lied. How could he hear her breathing when there was a huge wooden door between them? But maybe what he said worked, because the door opened almost immediately. A teenage girl, frowning, stood in front of him.

"You're lying," she said with a mix of confidence but there was that tone of doubt in her voice that told him she had no idea if Caleb was lying.

"I brought this for you." Caleb handed her a book, and he knew he'd done something right because her eyes lit up as she took it. She read too much, he had heard about something new she wanted to start reading and he knew her favorite authors well enough to know what to choose. She narrowed her eyes and stepped aside to let him into her room. "Will you tell me what's going on, or do I need to buy another book?"

She sighed, looking at the pretty book in her hands, and nodded, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Caleb followed her a few seconds later. "The guy who wanted to ask me to go to the winter ball said no." She grimaced and did her best not to show her concern. It was her first winter ball; she'd never gone to one before.

"He did what?" Caleb's voice sounded a little angrier than he wanted. Who could reject her? He had to take a breath before speaking again to sound calmer. "Why did he do that?"

"He said he already had someone, but Cherry said she overheard him talking to his friends about not having someone yet." She frowned in confusion. She knew he'd lied. "I think I would feel better if he had just said no." She sighed as she looked at Caleb. He never attended school dances, she'd never seen him out with a girl, and she wondered if he'd ever liked anyone.

Minutes passed, both of them silent. Caleb's mind was racing; he felt bad seeing her sad. Plus, he knew how excited she was about that stupid ball because she'd talked about it nonstop and Grandma had promised to help her buy a pretty dress. "I'll go with you," Caleb blurted out, taking a couple of seconds to realize what he was saying.

She looked up, something sparkled in her eyes when she heard his words, but she tried not to get too excited. "You don't even go to the same school." She frowned, Caleb had graduated a year ago and she still had a little while left before graduating too. "You don't have to do that, Caleb."

"But I want to" he interrupted her before she could say anything else. One of his hands slid to take hers, he knew that comforted her, she always sought to touch his hand in any situation. "Besides, you'll be the most popular by taking an older guy."

She let out a giggle of excitement and felt happiness on her chest.

She was a little disappointed that Grandma wouldn't see her pretty dress, she didn't even know where she had gone, nor did she know what she had talked to Caleb about when they seemed to be arguing the night before. For a second she was afraid that her going out to the ball would be cancelled.

But now she was there, walking down the stairs as she ran her hands down her blue dress to get any wrinkles out of the fabric. It was no big deal, or at least that's how she felt. It was a simple dress, appropriate for someone her age. The hairstyle she didn't consider to be a big deal either, she had done it herself, she had just made waves.

"Caleb?" He turned at the sound of his name and had to clench his jaw to keep from blurting out all the compliments he had in mind. She always looked cute, with those apple clips she wore in her hair or even last week when she'd had a terrible cold for three days.

"You look so pretty." He smiled holding out his hand for her to take, something she did immediately. She liked compliments but there was different in the compliments made by Caleb.

"Thank you" she murmured. The night air hit her, causing her to cling to Caleb's arm. She was nervous but didn't know why.

She felt a little guilty that she had taken Caleb there. Everyone were dancing, some were talking, and she was just there, on one of the tables, playing with a bracelet Caleb had given her two years ago and had never taken off since.

"You can go dance," she spoke suddenly causing him to turn his face towards her, confused. "Lizzy has had her eyes fixed on you. She once said she liked older guys, you can dance with her." She shrugged. Well, Caleb wasn't that older but he was stil an older boy, didn't he?

"I came with you."

"But I..." She grimaced. She wasn't doing anything, the looks on both of them when they arrived had made her feel more shy than she already was. "I'm just sitting here, you can go dancing without me."

Caleb was silent for so long that she was sure that he would listen to her. Anyway, he didn't do it, a hand reached out in front of her and then Caleb's voice reached her ears. "Come on."

"Where?" she asked in confusion.

"Let's dance."

"Caleb, I don't know how to dance."

"That doesn't matter." He didn't wait for another excuse and took one of her hands to lead her to the dance floor. She had to close her eyes for two seconds and try not to think about the eyes and looks on them. "Just...move to the beat of the music," he said, so calm, as if all eyes weren't on them.

Caleb could dance? Sometimes he danced with her when they heard music but it were silly dances that no one saw and- can't be possible.... "What are you doing?" she asked as she saw the silly way he moved.

"Dancing." He shrugged as he continued to make silly moves that made her laugh.

It took her a couple of seconds to finally get rid of that embarrassment that filled her and try to move to the rhythm of the music or at least to the rhythm that Caleb was setting while she let out a few laughs. Suddenly she forgot about everything around her, the looks that had made her nervous and it was just the two of them.

Caleb had heard her talk about this dance about six times in the same week. She was too excited but little did she know that her shyness would end up causing her to sit and drinking the same apple juice for at least the first hour of the night.

And yet he had found a way to brighten her night, even if it meant he could make a fool of himself.

[emeraldserenade]

It's Been 5 Years ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Adjusting to life after you had just disappeared with half of the living population took some time, but Joaquín seemed to be very helpful

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, reader speaks Spanish, bad Spanish (idk Spanish, I use google translate), none?, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

So I hit page 10 out of 34 on the upcoming story. But I still want to keep up my at least one post a day schedule, so have this. This idea has been running it's way through my head and it didn't come out how I wanted it to but I still think it's good.

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín was in his relatively new apartment, he had been there for a few months, when the people who had just disappeared reappeared. It was jarring, especially for the two of you.

"Um, hello?" You were confused, one moment you were holding your cat and walking around your apartment getting ready to leave and the next, your cat was gone and everything looked different.

"Holy shit," the man jumped up from the couch and you took a step back. "Wait, I'm not going to hurt you, let me explain," he held his hands up.

"Uh, ok?" You wrapped your arms around your middle, trying to sooth yourself.

"5 years ago this alien named Thanos made half the living population disappear," the man stated and you slowly nodded, you realized almost right away you must have been apart of those that disappeared.

"So, it's been 5 years?" You questioned, you watched as he nodded. "You wouldn't happen to know what happened to my cat, would you?" You took a chance.

"Actually, I would. The neighbor, Ms. Kaur, took your cat in. She told me all about how you would be heartbroken to know that your cat was all alone," the man told you and you felt a rush of relief.

"Uh," you paused for a moment and looked around. "Can I ask you a few favors? Nothing big, I promise," you assured him.

"Yeah, go ahead," you watched as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, firstly, can I know your name?"

"Oh," he uncrossed his arms and held his right one out to you. "Joaquín Torres," you shook his hand and gave him your name.

"Also, can I borrow your phone?"

"Yeah, let me grab it," he moved to the kitchen. "I don't know if you need the bathroom but you can go use it," he called from the kitchen you and nodded even though he couldn't see you.

"Oh, thank you!" You called from your way down the hallway and to the extra bathroom. You figured he didn't want you in your, his, bedroom. When you came back he was sitting on the couch again and you hesitantly walked closer.

"You don't have to stand," he told you and handed you his, unlocked, phone.

"Thanks," you awkwardly sat down a little bit away from him and punched in one of the numbers you knew by heart.

One ring, two rings, three rings, then finally someone picked up. "Hola?" You almost sobbed hearing the voice of your father

"Hola, papá," you heard your own voice wobble but it was nothing compared to the full sob of your mother's you could hear.

"Y/n, de verdad eres tú?" Your father questioned. Is that really you?

"Sí, lo es. ¿Alguien más desapareció?" Yes, it is. Did anyone else disappear?

"No, solo eras tú. Ay, tu madre y yo nos alegramos mucho de que hayas vuelto. Por favor, ven a visitarnos pronto," your father told you and you nodded. No, it was just you. Oh, your mother and I are so happy you're back. Please, come visit us soon

"Lo haré, solo necesito aclarar algunas cosas. ¿De acuerdo?" I will, I just need to figure some things out. Ok?

"Ok, te amamos," your father told you. Ok, we love you

"Yo también te amo," you hung up the phone and handed it back to Joaquín. I love you too.

"I uh," you awkwardly looked at Joaquín. "I should probably see if I can find a hotel," you went to stand but Joaquín's words stopped you.

"Or you can stay here, I mean, it technically was, is, your apartment. There's the extra room anyway," Joaquín offered and you looked down at yourself. You suddenly felt grateful that you were about to leave, you had your purse and some of your favorite clothes of your on.

"If you're sure because I can totally go and get a hotel room," Joaquín cut you off.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Plus, I have a feeling finding a hotel room will be extra hard tonight," Joaquín joked and you laughed.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You had been staying with Joaquín for a few weeks now, you had settled into the guest bedroom and found out that not only did Ms. Kaur save Sushi, but she also saved all your belongings. The furniture, other than the standing mirror your grandmother gave you and the nice hanging jewelry holder you thrifted, got sold. You weren't too upset, you had all your clothes and things anyway.

You were sitting on the couch on hold with the bank while watching Joaquín play some video game. You found out a few days ago that they froze all your cards when you were offically declared dusted. While you appreciate them worrying about your finances, it was a pain in the ass to get unfrozen.

"Miss, are you still there?" Asked the female voice you'd been talking to a few moments ago.

"Yes, I am!" You sat up straighter and the raised volume of your voice caused Joaquín to look over at you.

"We have unfrozen all your accounts, sorry for taking so long," the woman told you and you smiled in relief.

"Ok, thank you!" You hung up after goodbyes and did a small happy dance. "Dios mío, I thought that was going to go on forever," you flopped back against the couch and focused your attention back on the screen.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Joaquín, are you even helping me look for apartments?" You looked up from your computer screen at Joaquín, his laptop was open but he was hitting his keyboard more than he would if he was looking.

"If I lie and say yes, would you believe me?" Joaquín questioned and you sighed.

"You act like you want me to stay here," you closed your laptop and moved to sit on the couch next to him, he was on the Minecraft world you two had started. "You said you wouldn't build without me!" You gasped, he was building more of the house you two had started together.

"I got bored, forgive me, Angel," he gave you his puppy eyes and you stared him down, already knowing that he had won.

"Fine, I forgive you," you huffed.

"Good, and I do want you to stay here," he added on and you looked at him weirdly as he saved and exited the game.

"Why?"

"I like you," he said it so casually that you had to remind yourself that he meant as a friend, and that he didn't reciprocate your crush.

"Careful, you might give me the wrong impression," you joked, trying to hide the truth in your words.

"Which would be?" Joaquín looked at you with, what you thought was, genuine curiosity and you mentally kicked yourself.

"Nothing, doesn't matter," you told him, getting up to leave. He grabbed your hand and pulled you back onto the couch before you even took a step causing you to fall with more backwards momentum you were accounting for, and landing with your back pressed into his chest. You just relaxed into his hold, knowing that if he really wanted to you wouldn't be able to move.

Joaquín said nothing as you two sat there, you didn't say anything either. You just sat there in comfortable quiet, you slowly started to drift off and right before you fully succumbed to you heard Joaquín lowly mumble in your ear, but you couldn't quite figure it out.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

It didn't take long until you gave up apartment hunting, the landlord from your building was also very nice. She let you and Joaquín add your name to the lease without much of a hassle.

"Joaquín, you do have plans?" You saw he was dressed nicely.

"Yeah," he told you and you suddenly felt very stupid for even asking. "With you, go get ready, please," he looked away from the mirror where he was messing with his hair to look you in the eyes.

"Me? Where? Why?"

"You ask too many questions Angel, just go," he gave you a smile and you relented.

You two ended up going to dinner, a movie, then to ice cream. You were confused on why he was until he took you back home.

"I like you, a lot, and," you cut Joaquín off with a hug and a quick kiss.

"I like you too," you told him, watching as any of his nerves disappeared.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[dewitty1]

Carey ‘W’Recs Wednesday(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ presents:

More than Ruin'd Hopes shall Mourn. by jamie2109

Excerpt:

'Rumour has it that Potter and his girlfriend are on the verge of a break up,' Blaise said quietly so that Draco's mother and Pansy, who were chatting over table placements, could not hear.

'Oh, and where did you hear this juicy piece of gossip?' Draco asked.

'I heard them arguing in a shop this afternoon. Very loudly and about you.' Blaise gave Draco a knowing smirk. 'You kissed Potter.'

Draco started and then glared at Blaise. 'Was that a question or an accusation?'

'I'd say that response only confirms what I heard in Gladrags.'

Blaise was infuriating when he had that 'I know your secret, so there,' smirk. Much as Draco loved him as a friend, it also made him want to smack that look right off his face.

'Just tell me what happened, Blaise,' Draco insisted.

'Then you have to tell me what snogging Potter was like,' Blaise argued.

Growling, Draco agreed, ignoring the triumphant look that shot across Blaise's face. It was a small price to pay to discover the situation between Potter and the ginger bits.

'Well, I don’t know what they were arguing about exactly,' Blaise started, and Draco groaned thinking there was no substance to what Blaise claimed after all. 'Potter cast a Silencing charm but as any good Slytherin worth the name knows how to lip read, I could understand most of what they were saying.'

'Well…?' Draco pressed impatiently.

'Apparently, Miss Ginevra Weasley thinks that her hero Golden boy is cheating on her with you. She insists that as Potter spends all his time here, there is something more than common gratitude driving it. She claims that Potter could easily assign more guards to you if he really wanted and, because of his name, could twist the Head Auror around his little finger and wriggle out of having to guard you twenty-four hours a day.'

This was gold, Draco thought, and almost exactly how he'd hoped their relationship would slide. Trust the ginger bits to completely overlook the fact that Potter was being guarded as much as he was guarding Draco. If memory served him correctly, Robards had said Draco and Potter were easier to guard if they were together. Draco wondered then, amused, if Potter had conveniently forgotten to inform the ginger bits of this fact. Draco's anger at Potter's absence almost completely evaporated. 'What did Potter have to say about that?'

'He was angry. I have no idea what you did to him, but he said something scathing that made Weasley go pale. That was when she launched into the cheating diatribe.'

'Potter admitted to cheating?' Not that he had really, Draco had been the one to initiate the kiss, but Potter's self righteousness would insist that he'd cheated anyway. Especially as for a second he'd kissed back. It was definitely time to exert some more pressure on Potter, drive that wedge between him and the ginger bits deeper.

'No, but he flushed redder than Weasley's hair. He mostly just got angry and told her that she didn’t know him very well if she expected him to use his name to get what he wanted. She didn't like that, that's for sure, shouting that she was entitled to expect he use every ounce of influence he had so his girlfriend got to see him once in a while.'

Draco laughed. It was too perfect. Potter thought himself above using his name to get him what he wanted, did he? If he did, then it was only because people fell all over themselves to make sure Potter had what he wanted before he thought to ask for it.

'Potter calmed down then a little and tried to make nice by telling her they had the party that night to look forward to being together and they should make the most of it instead of arguing. She agreed but, Draco, she is not happy.'

'It sounds like it. I bet she's not pleased that she and the rest of Potter's hangers on have been shoved aside out of the spotlight now they prefer me.'

Blaise laughed. 'You could be right. Even I get more attention from the media these days than that lot of Gryffindors do.'

That gave Draco an idea. 'Blaise, best friend, how would you feel about doing something about that attraction you had for the ginger bits back in school?'

'You're attempting to break the Golden couple up?'

'With as much publicity as possible.'

'What about the bloke I'm seeing?'

Draco raised an eyebrow. 'Seeing as you don’t care enough to even tell us his name, he can’t be that important to you. Will you really miss him?'

'Point.' Blaise considered for a moment. 'Draco, that's devious,' he said. Then he smirked. 'You really do want Potter, don’t you?'

Draco gave him a long stare. 'Only long enough to make the fool fall for me so I can teach him what it feels like to be rejected and dumped.'

Blaise shook his head. 'Is that worth all the trouble it will cause?'

Draco nodded. He hadn’t told Blaise about everything, and he wasn't going to. He loved Blaise, but he trusted Pansy with his life. Having Potter right where he wanted was worth more than just about anything to him and definitely worth any trouble it took to get him there.

'Then I'll do it. Might be nice to find out if the collars and cuffs match.'

Draco's grimaced. 'I really don’t want to know that, thanks.'

'All right,' Blaise gave in, grinning. 'Now, tell me about snogging Potter.'

'It was an accident. He was being an arse about having the night off and I just kissed him to shut him up.'

Blaise laughed. 'I thought you were more organised than 'an accident', Draco.'

'Oh, shut up and go and lure the ginger bits away from my Potter,' Draco shot back, disgruntled because Blaise was right; he generally went about his seduction with a lot more finesse than how he'd been handling Potter. Damn, but Potter always did manage to stuff up his plans.

'You do realise you just said 'my Potter', don’t you?' Blaise snickered.

Draco merely glared at Blaise until he relented and left.

More than Ruin’d Hopes shall Mourn.

jamie2109

Chapters: 21/21 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Explicit Language, Sexual Content Summary:

Draco wasn’t entirely positive when he’d come to the awful conclusion that Potter had something tangible that made people love him. However, he was sure of the exact moment he realised he coveted that love enough to do something about it.

Excerpt:

‘Mr. Malfoy, how does it feel to be a hero?’

‘Who, me?’ Draco pretended shock. ‘I’m no hero. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’

‘No one else jumped in front of the curse. Just you. How can you explain that?’

Draco frowned as if thinking. ‘Perhaps their reflexes weren’t as good as mine. It did happen very quickly.’

‘Can you tell us in your own words what happened?’

‘It all happened so fast.’ Draco really had no idea what had happened at all but he appeared to think about it. ‘One minute I was among the crowd, making my way to Fortescue’s for ice cream and the next I heard a noise. Without even thinking about it, I found myself over the barrier.’ And that wasn’t even a lie,Draco thought, greatly amused.

‘It was an extremely brave thing to do, Mr. Malfoy,’ one female reporter said, simpering. ‘Can you tell my readers why you did it?’

No. Absolutely no fucking idea, darling, Draco thought, and if I’d had a choice about it, I’d have never done it. Instead, Draco smiled awkwardly and dropped his eyes. ‘There was no way I could stand by and watch the Golden boy hurt by some disaffected wizard,’ he said softly.

He risked a glance at Potter, who’d been sitting quietly in the corner the whole time, half expecting to see Potter angry and on the verge of disputing his version of the story. Strangely, Potter didn’t look like that at all. Instead he had awed gratitude on his face. It was enough to make Draco blink several times in shock.

After several more questions, which Draco answered modestly, just making the reporters want to call him a hero even more, Draco claimed tiredness and had Potter remove them from his room.

He was actually tired and ached terribly. He had Potter hunt down a Healer and get him some more potion for the pain. Once he’d been examined by the Healer and told he’d need to stay overnight, he settled down for a nap.

‘You going to sit there and watch me sleep, then?’ Draco looked at Potter seated in the corner and smirked.

‘I have to. They still haven’t caught whoever aimed that curse at me and they think that whoever it was might now be after you for interfering.’

Draco frowned. Actual danger was unexpected. ‘Fine, then. You can stay.’

‘I was going to.’

‘Good. Now shut up and let me sleep.’

‘Prat.’ He sounded fond, which annoyed Draco. Potter had no right to familiarity.

‘I’m the bloody prat who took a curse for you, Potter, so kindly shut up. “

[heevee-likes-soup]

Yunho x Reader |1K- 1 Trope|

>> 1K- 1 Trope series: A start of me to start publishing/ Get back into writing, 1 character, 1 Trope, 1 K words <<

>>Fake Dating<<

>> Summary: Back in town, you stayed with your parents for the duration. During a reunion with them and your childhood friend, you ask him to be your fake date to get your sweet revenge on the self-proclaimed 'queen bee' who made you despise your high school days. It doesn't help that you used to have the biggest crush on Yunho. But that was years ago, right? <<

>> Rating: Fluffy/ SFW <<

"I know it's a silly idea but please think about it." You smiled pleadingly, Yunho only shook his head while laughing.

That's how you asked him to pose as your partner for the upcoming High School reunion. The situation was… difficult. You're high school bully turned proper trophy wife, well fiance, couldn't stop spamming the group chat about 'How excited she was to meet everyone's partners' as if not to only flex with her own engagement.

So, for the reunion and a little vacation, you were back in town, staying at your parents house. And through them you also heard about Yunho being in town.

Your childhood friend, turned teenage crush, you lost contact with over the past five years of college.

"I'll do it." Yunho then smiled after a moment of contemplation, that felt like eternity to you. An eternity where his eyes didn't leave yours ONCE.

The next afternoon came quick. You were by no means surprised, Yunho was always handsome, but something about the glasses, the soft brown hair and his look just screamed boyfriend in the best way possible, and you couldn't have thanked him any less. He took that mission more seriously then you anticipated. Especially when he grabbed your hand with a smile, interlacing your fingers.

On the way to the school you talked details- you lost contact throughout the first year of college, reconnected some faithful new years and then started dating shortly after, since 'the spark has always been there'.

And with that, you traveled the short twenty minute walk to the school building where the reunion was hosted, and were sooner then later already greeting your old classmates left and right.

While hugging some girl you never really got along with, with a bright, not-quiet fake smile, you could feel Yunho close behind watching you. When shaking a guys hand, who greeted you with a shy smile, happy to see you again, even if you forgot his name, Yunho was right next to you, taking his hand next, with another hand placed gently on your back.

And when it came to the final boss, and you hugged the still fake blonde overly giddy, self proclaimed 'queen bee', it was Yunho who followed the greeting with a dismissive wave, instead of engaging in her attempt to also hug him. Her smile dropped the slightest bit.

This was already a win, on your part.

"I figured when you said you and your plus one you were talking about a dog, or something." She laughed at her own joke.

The response was instant, and you couldn't even comprehend what happend as Yunho placed an arm demonstratively around your waist, and pulled you closer, a quick peck on your cheek and a sickening sweet smile later he said,

"Well, I have been asking to get ourselves a puppy for the new apartment, but she's been INSISTENT on no pets. A real shame."

It made you chuckle a little, both in surprise at the sudden physical affection, and the nonsense he was talking.

The night went on smoothly. After that first encounter, the biting comments stopped, and you spent the remainder of the evening with people actually worth your time. Yunho was always around you, a hand on your lower back, an arm around your shoulder, playing with your hand in his, just always in contact with you. You even caught him looking at you a few times mid conversation, no matter who was speaking.

A few drinks, conversations, and hours later, you were exhausted. And so, you said your goodbyes and left. The first few minutes of walk through the dark, cooled down town, you were holding hands.

"Thank you again." You smiled squeezing his hand. You felt the heat of alcohol, and the blush of a fresh breeze creep up on your cheeks. The alcohol also made your words bubble up with ease.

"It's so funny that I got to live my high school dream at a high school reunion" you chuckled. Yunho raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" He asked with a small smile, and an illegally cute crease in his forehead.

"I used to have the biggest crush on you." you could only laugh, feeling bubbly after the evening and the champeign.

"You did?" he asked, eyes big in surprise, and it made you laugh just a little more.

"Yeah. But then college started and i felt like it was the distance I needed to get over it." You breathed after catching your laugh again, a faint smile of the memories to that time on your lips.

You looked up to him, not your fault he was this tall, and saw him look straight ahead into the distance. Something about his expression… nearly wistful.

"Damn" he breathed a little quiet- "So I did have a chance."

The silence of the quiet street was loud in your ears.

"What?"

Yunho looked at you, the the smile a little shy, the eyes a little… melancholic even.

"So… I did have a chance. Had I told you then." It made your heart stop for just a moment. You spent the last five years getting rid of that- this feeling creeping up in your chest to choke you until no words could come out of your mouth. The wave of repressed feelings crushed down on you without any warning.

And with that, and the alcohol, the words bubbled up like soda pop.

"You still do." It made his smile drop a little, with a flicker of confusion on his face.

"You still do have a chance." It was suffercating, and you were surprised the words bubbled out with more confidance then you wouldve expected. You felt like you had no air to breathe, yet your words sounded clear through the quiet town.

"Then how about we repeat this,"

He smiled, coming to a stop on the street, making you stop as well by still holding your hand tight.

"but as a real date?"

"Yes"

[hpdabbles]

In Plain Sight Part 2

Aurors arrived the following day to take statements from students. Apparently, the disappearance of the most famous boy in the wizarding world meant a quick response from the government just because the public was demanding it.

According to the wards, Harry Potter entered Platform Nine and three quarters and the train on time. The wards kept track of all on board to ensure no unauthorized personnel entered the train. It picked up that Harry Potter was onboard and had gotten off with the rest of the students at Hogwarts.

However, he was not on the boats crossing the lake with the rest of the first years, and no student reported seeing Potter on the train.

This could only mean two things. Harry Potter had been abducted in the distance from the train, and the boats or the wards had incorrectly picked up his presence from the beginning.

Harry, now living under the name James, wasn't sure which unnerved the Hogwarts staff the most. The idea was that a student could be taken in seconds or that someone had tricked the wards of one of the most secured locations in the world. True, the Hogwarts Express isn't quite as old as Hogwarts itself, but it was established for a fair amount of time that its wards should be one of the hardest to fool.

It was slightly amusing to see them fumble around. Harry had already experienced the lack of common sense in the wizarding world, mainly because common sense was grilled into muggles who had far more limitations by the world around them. However, seeing at this level away from the storm was oddly entertaining.

Of course, they had already taken him to the side and questioned him. The Aurors had gotten special permission to force children to sit in a chair charmed to glow if they lied.

Harry was happy that the Headmaster and the Potion Master weren't present when he took his seat. Even if his Occlumency was getting better every day, he still thinks he wouldn't have been able to dodge the notice of some of the strongest Legilimens of this era.

He was sure one of the Aurors was a Legilimen, but he didn't sense any form of invasion checking to see if he was honest. The chair made them think it wasn't essential to dive further than the genetic answers of a confused muggle-raised child.

Harry was happy the charm didn't pick up lies by omission as he flew through the interview.

"Can you tell us your name?"

"James Evans."

"How old are you?"

"As of this current year, I turned eleven."

"Do you know who Harry Potter is?"

"Yes, I do."

"Did you see Harry Potter on the train or on the train Platform?"

"No. I didn't see anyone claiming to be Harry Potter in either location."

"What time did you arrive at the Platform nine and three quarters?"

"I'm not sure of the exact time, but it had to be after ten twenty. I took the muggle bus, which brought me to the train station around that time."

"Did you come alone?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I am an orphan." Harry watched the woman write something down on her paper. He couldn't make out the exact sentence she noted, but he could read the word "orphanage" at the beginning of it. He wondered if the Aurors knew that muggles no longer had orphanages—they hadn't for a long time.

But he didn't bring it up because their assumptions would help him more. Let them think his guardian was an overworked, underpaid matron. If they ever needed to speak to that person, there would be a lovely delay in response before they could catch on.

It would give him time to make a plan of escape.

The Aurors asked him more questions, but Harry could tell they didn't consider him a severe link to Harry Potter's disappearance. They had mentally slotted him as an ignorant but innocent Muggle-born.

Not long after, he was let go and told to go to the breakfast table and wait for his head of house to pass around class schedules. Harry was more than happy to bounce into his seat, digging into his meal and ignoring most of the school gossiping about the missing Harry Potter.

They were told not to discuss the case, but no one seemed to follow the rule, as whispers and mutters echoed over the regular noise of breakfast. His doormats and the first-year Ravenclaw girls were still being interviewed, so Harry was the only Raveclaw firstie eating breakfast.

The older Raveclaw students seemed to already have their own groups, so besides a quick glance, they left him be. He was grateful. Chewing on some toast, Harry noted that the Slytherin table was primarily empty while the Gryffindor table was mainly full.

It made him wonder if the Aurors were convinced that a Slytherin had planned or been involved in Harry Potter's disappearance. If so, they likely planned on holding the green-wearing teenagers because of prejudice.

Before sitting down, the red and gold students were likely already considered a non-option. Sometimes, it baffled him how seriously the adults in the wizarding world took the placement of a kid's school bed when it came to personality.

He was grateful he was moving past that, despite his knee reaction to think the worst of Slytherins. Sometimes, Harry had to remind himself that Andromeda was also a Slytherin, and that was proof that sleeping in certain dormitories didn't make someone evil.

"Here you are, Mr. Evans," Professor Flitwick said, placing a parchment on the table beside his plate. Please make sure to keep a close eye on your class schedule. If you need help finding any of the classrooms, don't be afraid to ask Perfect or myself."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, dipping his head so his red hair fell into his eyes. His mother was the best charm student Flitwick had, and despite having more emasculate fractures, Harry didn't want the man looking at his face too long, lest he spot Lily Potter in his gaze.

Ron's spell was a blessing but not a miracle worker. He couldn't have anyone notice that he looked like a male Lily Potter with James Potter's eyes.

Thankfully, most would trust a spell meant to review a disguise and, when his features didn't change, wouldn't think too much about it. He wanted to establish a shy personality that would morph into a longer one early on.

Harry figured the more removed he was from the school's main problems, the more typical his second chance would be. Now, that didn't mean he would dumb down. He was after Ravenclaw and would certainly not hide his flying skills, but he figured he could pick the correct times to shine.

The doors to the dining hall opened as he glanced at his new schedule. In stumbled the first Slytherin, a seven-year student girl named Merula Snyde. Harry didn't remember her so well, but he knew she was the top student, and he had graduated later this year with the top marks to prove it.

She looked murderous and frazzled as she stomped to the Slytherin table. If she had just finished her interview, it meant the Aurors were going to finally start letting Slytherins go, and the case was nowhere near solved.

He giggled into his cup, wondering how long it had taken them to find a clue to where he had gone. Headmaster Dumbledore wasn't at the staff table—most of the staff were trying to help law enforcement track him down—but Harry just knew the man was losing his mind about misplacing the Boy Who Lived.

Thankfully, even the greatest wizard of this era didn't consider James Evans as anything other than an ignorant but innocent Muggle-born.

[nightbutterfly09]

Hello! your work is something! I don’t want to miss the chance to share a possible idea!

The reader is a genius striker, while he (for example, Isagi, Sae, Reo) is your most devoted fan, ready to follow you around the world. While she play in championships, he sneaks into restricted areas of stadiums to wish she luck and support she in every way possible.

English is not my native language, sorry if it is not written clearly!

Hii thank you for your request! Don't worry, english isn't my native language either!!

Apologies if it took long, I wanted to make sure I don't dissappoint TxT

Also, some others also requested some things which Im super happy about! It means a lot to me so thank you everyone. I can't guarantee speediness, but I'll do them with due time.

I hope you'll enjoy 🩷

Characters used: Yoichi Isagi, Reo Mikage, Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi

(I feel like Isagi’s got a little long.. upsiees)

_____________________________________________

Yoichi Isagi

He simply adored the striker named Y/N L/N. The thought of liking this woman even better than Noel Noa hit him like a truck. He loved both, but if he needed to decide between the two, he’d surely pick you. His girlfriend of two years.

You had a match in Rio de Janeiro, and he had one back in Japan. Regardless to him, that didn't matter. He threw that out the window without a lingering thought, and bought tickets. Sometimes you had to scold him. He is throwing his life away for you, in the literal sense.

“Yoichi! Who in their right mind would do that?” You sighed, reaching the end of the same old conversation. “I’ll play in the next one, it’ll be alright.” He protested. It’s just the same old disagreement. He wanted to fly out with you, no matter the consequences.

It wasn't that you were severely against him supporting you with all his might, you just wanted to be realistic.

The next day, there he was. With you on the plane. Sitting closely next to you. He leaned his head onto your shoulder.

“Good luck my love~” he yawns. “Luck for what?” You chuckled. For this match you needed more than just luck. The opposite team was strong. You’ve been defeated by them once, back in the day, and you can’t let them take another win. That’s straight out disrespectful. At least, that’s what you always said.

When the loud cheers for your team made the stadium erupt in shouts, whistles you bathed in the recognition. With each win, it was like you became someone more important. Your dream, to be number one wasn’t so unachievable after all. That’s how Yoichi’s gaze lingered on you.

He was watching from the stadium’s highest stands, where no one but the staff could be. He enjoyed seeing you from so high up. Because when you turned, your gazes met. Without a single soul covering anything.

The man smiled down at you and subtly waved. He looked proud. Proud of his striker. His eyes told you many unspoken words. He was like an open book, without any complicated words.

Maybe, after you’ve changed, the flight will have to be delayed. At least if he isn’t opposed. Which you guarantee he isn’t.

_____________________________________________

Reo Mikage

Everyone knew how obsessed this chameleon was with his wife-to-be. That was quite obvious even to someone who only heard of the player.

Your next match was in Italy. Japan and Italy are obviously miles away. But when you told him you’d be overseas for a month (as your training camp was also held there) he didn’t flatter an eyelid. He straight up nodded and purchased the tickets.

“What are you doing?” You asked. Flabbergasted. “I bought first class tickets.” He smiled. “Best for the best.” With a shrug he was ready to leave the topic. Not on your watch.

You grabbed his phone and quickly clicked out from the webpage. “No way. You have your job too! Not to mention the company!” You frowned at him.

“Stop looking at me like I did something horrible. I can’t just leave my girl to fly alone, live alone, and be lonely. If I have the money, I'm going. Naturally.” He didn’t falter. His voice told a thousand reasons why he can’t back down. The conversation had no further space for an argument.

Even if you really wanted to stop him, you knew it’s hopeless. Once Reo wanted something, he would be sure to bring it to his deathbed even. “Still.. what will your manager say?” You trailed off not wanting to look at him. “He’ll understand, if I have anything going on i’ll jus cancel it. If it’s a meeting, since this is the 21st century, I can just attend from my laptop. If it’s about soccer… well no one would mind me missing out for once.”

He was determined. No backing off now. His argument was fair and it was already set in stone. Still, you feel his manager. You would’ve already quit with how he acts sometimes.

The numbers were close but you ended up winning. You were the one to hit the last goal, therefore you were swimming in the glory again. The loud celebrations of the audience filled the air around you. Only when you met those dark purple eyes did the outside noise come to a halt.

He was watching you from where he wouldn’t be spotted. Perhaps, he didn’t want people to pay attention to him, when his gemstone is out there doing her best. Your heart fluttered as he smirked. The moment caged you two into your world, completely shutting out everything and everyone else.

Truthfully. You felt great that he watched you. You wanted to thank him for coming.

_____________________________________________

Michael Kaiser

The man heads over heels for his partner. Undying love, undying attachment. There was no way he could release you from his grasp. Not even for that one stupid match. Not when he was so down bad for you.

It was impossible to stop him. You were fully aware why he is so broken and damaged. But there wasn't any reason to love him less. Quite the opposite, you always thought he should be even more cherished.

But to let him accompany you for another match overseas… Now that was a little risky for you too. In the end, his decision. But he’s been missing practice, and matches frequently.

“Are you sure it’s okay to skip again?” Though it was more of a rhetorical question. With a grumble he responded not even looking up from what he busied himself with. “Don't care about others’ opinions.” “Surely your manager’s opinion counts!”

“He is there for my career, not for my private life.” With that you really couldn't argue. “Anyway, I will be at the usual spot, so find me”

And there he was. Looking straight at you as you. As you shot the ball straight into the goal.

The eyes of the world were heavy on you but the only thing you cared about was your boyfriend. He waved lazily and smiled. A rare smile coming from him. Regardless, it enchanted you each time.

_____________________________________________

Sae Itoshi

Your boyfriend was never one to show his deliberate feelings. With him everything was a little puzzle. When it came to them anyway.

The only thing he was brave to show was his love for soccer. He always bought every merch of yours. He wouldn't admit it but when he was far away from you he often wore those signed shirts.

No one could imagine he’d go crazy over a player but ever since the first time he’s seen you he always hoped he could someday pass the ball to you. That was when he first saw you in Spain.

Ever since then, playing as a midfielder was for the sole purpose of passing to you. Even if he knew that's impossible.

He was overjoyed when he and you started talking. First it was only about your jobs, but later it all got a little deeper.

At every match you had, no matter where it was, the soccer addict was willing to shake up all the priorities he set in stone. All for a girl. All for Y/N L/N. All for his girlfriend.

He was there each time, hiding from the watchful eyes so all the glory could be yours. Because he was sure that if he were to appear people would take their eyes off of you. You didn't ever deserve that.

He needed everyone to look at you. To be amazed by you. He needed to see everyone’s gaze locked onto you. Even if he wanted you just to himself. Even if he hated sharing.

[tinyshyteacup]

Tw: cussing, tooth rotting fluff

Part 21

A Charming Detour - Part 22

His heart was pounding in his chest, and his hands were sweaty, and he knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't fucking help it.

Juice’s brain decided to just malfunction.

He saw you standing in the kitchen, your back turned, casually reaching for a mug in the cabinet.

Okay.

Breathe. Just—tell her the plan.

“Hey, babe—uh, so, I was thinking—”

You turned around, looking at him with that sweet, soft expression, and Juice panicked.

“I mean—fuck, okay, don’t—don’t say anything yet,” he rushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just—just hear me out, okay?”

You blinked.

Juice kept rambling.

“So, like, I know we didn’t really do the whole, uh, dating thing—’cause, y’know, fake marriage, then—then feelings, which is totally ass-backwards, but, uh—” He let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “Whatever, that’s not the point.”

You tilted your head slightly, listening, which only made him more anxious.

“Like, an actual date. No club shit, no favors, no—none of the fake stuff. Just—me and you. I, uh—tonight” he blurted.

You blinked again.

Juice swallowed hard.

“So?” he asked, voice cracking slightly.

There was a pause.

Then—

Your lips parted slightly, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face before you spoke.

“Juice… we have work tomorrow.”

Juice froze.

His stomach plummeted.

Fuck.

Juice stared at you for a second, scrambling to process.

Because—

Fuck, he didn’t even think about work.

He was too busy being a lovesick moron to remember that you both had responsibilities.

“I mean,” you continued, biting your lip, “I’d love to, but I don’t think a late night out is a great idea.”

Juice felt something in his chest sink—but before he could get too deep into his own disappointment, you took a step closer.

“But…” You smiled softly, looking up at him. “How about takeout and video games?”

Juice blinked.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a little shy now. “It’s not a date-date, but… it’s still just us, right?”

Juice’s brain stalled.

Because holy shit.

That was—

That was even better.

"We could save your idea though, until the weekend ?" You said, hopefully

Juice had spent the whole day stressing about where to take you, how to impress you, what the perfect first date should be.

But the truth was—

You didn’t need some big, extravagant night out.

You just wanted him.

His shoulders slumped in relief, and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Babe,” he exhaled. “That’s—fuck, that’s perfect.”

You giggled softly. “Yeah?”

Juice nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

Because nothing—nothing—sounded better than a night on the couch, eating shitty takeout and kicking your ass in video games.

Or, more likely, you kicking his ass—but whatever. He’d take it.

The smell of greasy fries and takeout containers filled the living room as Juice flopped onto the couch beside you, controller in hand.

“Alright, baby,” he said, nudging you playfully. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”

You let out a huff, curling up beside him. “Oh, please. I’m way better than you.”

Juice snorted. “Oh, now you talk shit? Alright. Let’s go.”

The game loaded, and you both settled into a comfortable rhythm—laughing, teasing, stealing each other’s food between rounds.

And Juice—

Juice couldn’t stop staring at you.

Because you looked so happy.

So at ease.

And this was actually real.

He felt something warm spread through his chest.

Juice was not cool.

He knew that.

But fuck, he was trying.

It started when you leaned over to grab a fry from his container—totally stealing his food, but he couldn’t even be mad because your sweater slipped off your shoulder a little, and it was so distracting.

Juice’s brain short-circuited.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

You paused, blinking at him mid-bite. “What?”

Juice froze.

Shit.

Uh. Say something smooth. Say something—

“Your—your, uh—” He gestured vaguely at your shoulder, floundering. “It’s—uh, you’re—”

You glanced down in confusion, then tilted your head. “Juice, what are you saying?”

Juice panicked.

“Your skin,” he blurted, way too loud. “I mean—it’s, uh, soft.”

There was a beat of silence.

You stared at him.

Juice stared back.

Oh my god.

What the fuck did he just say?

Your lips twitched, and then—

You burst into laughter.

Juice groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“I—” You wheezed, clutching your stomach. “My skin?”

“Shut up,” Juice whined. “It was supposed to be a compliment!”

“I mean—thank you?” you giggled, still watching him struggle. “That’s so—God, you’re adorable.”

Juice died inside.

A little later, you were curled up against him, casually scrolling through something on your phone while Juice tried to act normal on 1V1 mode.

Which was hard.

Because every time you shifted, every time your leg brushed against his, every time you tucked yourself a little closer to him—

Juice had to remind himself how to breathe.

But then—then he had an idea.

He saw an opening.

You stretched, arms lifting above your head, letting out a soft little sigh—

And Juice, in a very brave (and totally not well-thought-out) moment, decided to pull you back down against him.

Smooth. Casual. Effortless.

Or at least—

That was the plan.

What actually happened was—

He miscalculated horribly.

His arm yanked too hard, and instead of a cute, flirty moment—

You yelped and practically toppled into his lap.

Juice panicked.

“Shit—fuck—sorry, babe, I—”

You blinked up at him, stunned, your hands gripping his shirt.

Juice’s brain blue-screened.

Because—because you were so close.

Your nose nearly brushed his, your wide eyes looking up at him, your lips right there, and—

Juice forgot how to function.

“Uh.”

Silence.

You tilted your head, face crimson.

Juice swallowed.

And then you—

You just settled.

"This ok Juice?" You ask in that soft little voice.

Like it didn’t completely ruin him.

Juice nodded and barely managed to keep his brain from exploding.

Later, Juice was mindlessly playing with your fingers, tracing circles on your palm while you rested against his chest.

It was so easy to just be with you.

So easy that—

He kind of forgot to keep his mouth shut.

“You know I'm pretty sure I'm in love you.” he murmured absently.

Silence.

Juice blinked.

Then froze, realised what he said.

Then panicked.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

His heart stopped.

He did not just—

Slowly—very slowly—you shifted agasint him.

Juice stared at you, horrified.

He panicked.

“I mean—fuck,” he rushed, voice cracking. “I mean, like—not—not in, like, a weird way, just in a—I mean, not that it’d be weird if I did, but I just—” He wheezed. “Oh my god, kill me.”

Juice stared at the ceiling, heart racing.

He was so fucked.

Then—

He dared to look down.

Your eyelashes fanned your cheeks.

Your fist was curled up under your cheek.

Breathing even.

Holy shit.

You

You where asleep.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

And Juice?

He was freaking out.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a holy shit, I get to hold her kind of way.

For a long moment, he just stared at you, heart hammering against his ribs.

Your cheek was pressed against his shirt now, your fingers loosely curled against his chest. You looked so peaceful like this, so soft and warm and—

Fuck, he was in trouble.

Carefully—so carefully—he shifted, easing an arm beneath your legs before scooping you up entirely.

And immediately—

You whined in your sleep, instinctively burying your face against his throat.

Juice’s entire brain blue-screened.

His arms locked up, breath catching as your nose nudged against his skin, warm and trusting and—

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

This was dangerous.

Juice wasn’t sure what made him do it.

Maybe it was the way you sighed when he tucked you under the covers.

Maybe it was the way you rolled towards him instinctively, like even in your sleep, you wanted to be close to him.

Or maybe—

Maybe it was just the fact that you were his now, and for the first time, he didn’t have to pretend this whole thing was fake.

Either way—

He hesitated for way too long.

He was so used to trying to keep space between you in bed. You’d slept next to each other a bunch of times before, but always with a boundary—a line neither of he had never crossed.

But now?

Now, you were actually dating.

Now, he had every right to reach for you.

Right?

And the second he did—

You melted against him.

Juice sucked in a sharp breath as your body pressed flush against his, tucking yourself right under his chin like it was natural.

And it was.

Too natural.

Too easy.

Too perfect.

Juice’s throat went dry, heart pounding as he let his arms wrap around you fully, drawing you closer.

And the worst part?

You sighed in your sleep, nuzzling into his chest like you belonged there.

Juice was the human embodiment of a dial tone.

Juice tried to be smooth.

He really did.

But the thing was—

His brain stopped working whenever you were this close.

It started with his fingers lightly tracing up and down your back—innocent, just casual, nothing weird.

And then, in a very bold move, he tipped his head just slightly so his lips brushed your hair.

Soft.

You shifted at the touch, stirring just enough to murmur, “Mm… Juice?”

Juice froze.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Abort. Abort.

“Uh—nothing, baby,” he rushed, way too guilty. “Go back to sleep.”

You hummed sleepily, eyes barely open. “Y’sure?”

“Yeah,” he choked out. “I was just—uh—” He scrambled for an excuse. “You—you smell nice.”

Silence.

Then—

Your lips twitched.

Juice panicked.

Oh no.

You were fully awake now.

And you were grinning.

Juice groaned, immediately hiding his face in your shoulder. “Oh my god.”

You giggled. “I smell nice?”

“Shut up,” he whined.

You giggled harder.

You were warm.

That was the problem.

You were all soft limbs and gentle touches, your fingers absentmindedly brushing along his wrist, his arms and fuck—Juice was so gone for you.

“I like this,” you murmured sleepily.

Juice swallowed. “Yeah?”

You nodded against his chest. “Feels… safe.”

Something in his chest ached.

His arms tightened around you without thinking, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed a slow, almost reverent kiss to the top of your head.

“I got you, baby,” he murmured before he could stop himself. “Always.”

You hummed softly, completely at ease, and Juice—

Juice realized too late what he’d just said.

Oh shit.

Oh, shit.

His heart stopped.

Did you hear that?

Was it too much.

Did you—did you realize—

But no—your breathing had already evened out again, your body loose and trusting against his.

Juice exhaled.

He was so in trouble

[imsofuckinggayomfg]

HELLO LOVES!! i finally have something to talk about hehehe.

and i'm dying y'all, he's so adorable ✋😭

at first i only shortly saw him today where we quickly said hi (remember how i always wave at ppl? well, he's obviously no exception) and i waved at him like always, not expecting a wave back, BUT FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER HE WAVED BACK. THAT WAS LITERALLY THE CUTEST THING EVER??? HE LOOKED SO ADORABLE AND LOWKEY AWKWARD OMFG (he somehow manages to look awkward 90% of the time, which, real love, real-)

i also later went to his office to yap his ear off since i haven't had a real conversation with him in three fucking weeks (which bothered me A LOT to say the least)(i'll explain in another post). i walked into the secretaries office and asked if they knew if he had time and in that moment he was abt to close his door and greeted me (he didn't hear me ask about him) but the secretary stopped him and went like "sir- do you have a second? this student would like to talk to you real quick" ("real quick" i went on to literally yap his ear off for the next 20 minutes 🌚).

he instantly COMPLETELY lit up (bless his heart, i literally love him sm) and was like "yeah totally!!". y'all have NO idea how happy that made me; especially since he was acting kind of off these last two weeks. i also noticed that he was at the very least as glad as i to finally have me bother him again. he literally seemed to nearly explode of joy.

i haven't been to his office in nearly three weeks (i normally yap his ear off at LEAST once a week) and he literally seemed soooo happy that i was back to yapping his ear off. the amount of joy on this man's face was super adorable and incredible to see- i could/can just tell that he was missing our conversations a lot (and same omfg i was DYING without them 😭)

also, side note of something i noticed. every single time i come to bother him in his office, since the very first time i've done that, he INSTANTLY offers me a seat, no matter what i wanna talk abt/ask. he also ALWAYS continues our conversation or starts a new topic just to keep the conversation going. like, an example.

i once came in to just quickly ask him one thing, i even told him "i just need a second of your time, it's just a quick question" and he still offered me a seat and then went on to start a conversation about a different topic by himself after answering my question.

no one, literally NO ONE, can tell me that he doesn't love our conversations (or maybe it's my company, or both 👀) at least as much as i do 🫠