#bc they lobby others to be sure we CHOKE :) !!!

[inkskinned]

100,000 dollars is not a lot of money.

it is also a lot more money than i will ever have. my student loans make up half of that - they're coming back, i'm told, like we all bounced back recently. the other day while paying for gas to go to work, i overdrew my account without knowing it.

i sat in the car and looked at the charge and tried to do the math. where the fuck is the money even going? i don't live extravagantly. i live in a hole in the ground, in an apartment the size of a sneeze; covered in ants. yes, i wanted to live close to a population center. maybe that's my fault. i've downloaded the apps and i've spoken to the experts and i've cut back on excess. i can't help the pharmacy bills or the medical debt.

i have a good, well-paying job. when i googled it to see if i was getting a fair salary, i found out i'd be making "upper middle class" money. which doesn't make sense - is "upper middle class" now just "able to afford a one-bedroom without a roommate". when i was younger, upper-middle meant a nice big house and a backyard and vacations and not flinching about eating at a resturant.

i was talking to my friend who is a realtor. he said 100,000 dollars is extremely cheap for housing. he's not wrong. 100,000 dollars would change my life. 100,000 dollars also won't really buy you anything. it could get you out of debt, potentially, if you were lucky and had a certain amount of scholarships to tack onto your degree. you could pay off the car and then have enough left over for "spending" money. how fucking amazing. one vacation, maybe two if you're thrifty. and then - like magic - the money would evaporate into nothing. people would sigh and tell you see, you should have put it into savings! like "upper middle class" people can't afford to value "actually living" over squirrelling wealth. you should spend your life only in scarcity. like that is what made the rich people all their real "actually a lot of money".

100,000 dollars would literally set me free. it also would just set me back to "earning normally" instead of paying down debt into infinity. god, do you know how many of us just want that? that our first thought is we could stop scrambling and just be free of debt if we won the lottery? that we don't even necessarily need to stop working - we just wouldn't have to worry about failing or falling?

and. at the same time. 100,000 dollars is next to fucking nothing.

#writeblr #me paying my taxes this year: #haha good to know im literally doing more for my community out of my tiny apartment #than most corporations will do in their entire scope! :) these motherfuckers will NEVER pay taxes!!! #bc they lobby others to be sure we CHOKE :) !!! #i hope this is clear like. this isn't someone being like ''haha if i got 100k it wouldn't be a big deal'' #it's more like. the gap between corporations and the ppl WORKING in those corporations #has become HORRIFIC. 100k to the company i work for is like. pocket change to them. #and it is LIFE CHANGING for me. #they could cut me a check for 100k tomorrow and not even budge their margin of error

[ggukkiedae]

Ari’s Fan Favorite Moments with Jungwon

TAGLIST: @choisoobiniscute @strwberrydinosaur @1-800-enhypenbibi @caratinylyfe @sunflower-0180 @1-800-minji @nayuyeonsrecs @cherryutas @woopetals @kimhyejin3108 @starlighthwa @akshverse @niafics @90sni-ki @wtfhaechan (just send me an ask or a dm if you want to be added to the taglist/s! 🥰)

The Baby Sheep Spot

Ari had a lot going on in her mind back on I-land. Jungwon would usually be the one to catch her and get her to talk.

He’d always bring her to the lobby and sit by the side of the egg gate to talk.

It’s sometimes shown on the show what they talk about, but the most iconic of their heart to hearts are always the ones caught on the I-land cams where there aren’t any audio files.

One instance in particular that went viral on eggie twt at the time was where someone caught them on the I-land cams sitting and talking. It looked like Ari had started crying, so Jungwon pulled her head to rest on his shoulder while talking. Then his hand went up and wiped at his eyes and that’s when everyone realized he was crying, too.

The Baby Sheep Spot will forever be an important part of wonri fans’ lives and everyone’s happy to know (thanks to Jake spilling it bc he found it cute) that there is also a baby sheep spot in their dorm.

(more under the cut)

Their High Praises

Everyone knows Jungwon and Ari have nothing but good things to say about each other, so high praises are a constant between them.

These two are literally not shy and will compliment each other to their faces until the other gets embarrassed.

You’ll catch Jungwon on vlives talking about how he really likes Ari’s mindset and would often go to her for advice (if not Heeseung)

Then there’s Ari who likes to “dote” on Jungwon but then goes off about how good of a leader he is and how he handles all his responsibilities well

We can’t leave out the fact that they always tell each other they did well, and they’re always telling each other they look good.

Fever First Pre-chorus

There’s not many WonRi moments post-debut, so Fever’s choreo was an absolute gem to WonRi stans

In the first pre-chorus, Jungwon has to “choke” Ari the way that Ni-ki does to Sunoo in the second pre-chorus

But there was one stage where she accidentally turned her head the other way, and, in the split second she and Jungwon met eyes, they nearly laughed

But the speed of everything made it look like they smirked at each other and fans loved it

And now they do it like that every time they perform Fever because who doesn’t love how the two Yangs always look like they’re about to jump over a metal fence and vandalize something when they do that?

The Dimple Tradition

So, it took until after their debut for people to realize that Jungwon and Ari have a dimple tradition.

Before every performance, they make the bread face to each other then simultaneously poke each other’s dimples just to help them ease their nerves.

When Sunoo first pointed this out in a behind video, people began searching back and saw Ari and Jungwon doing this tradition on I-land in the background of some clips.

Obviously everyone finds this adorable because it’s such a wholesome way to calm each other!

(Everyone also loves how Sunghoon is always trying to get in on it, but Ari and Jungwon both walk away from him whenever he tries because it’s their thing)

Jungwon’s En-Log

Everyone was surprised when Ari suddenly appeared on screen while Jungwon was in the car explaining what they were about to do.

The fact that the two of them took a quick walk by the Han River is precious to everyone, especially paired with the clips their manager took from behind them where you can see Ari laughing about something and Jungwon carrying her bag for her.

“Why are you so quiet today?” “This is your video. I’m sure Engenes want to hear from you.” “Engenes want to hear from you, too, so talk with me like you normally do.”

At some point she ended up wearing Jungwon’s polo because they both realized the shirt she was wearing was thinner than it seemed to be… Also jungwon accidentally stained her sleeve with his chicken.

Of course, there’s them under the blanket after eating. While Jungwon only closed his eyes for a few seconds, Ari really fell asleep next to him. There was a fifteen-second cut of him sitting and scrolling through his phone on one hand while the other hand was lightly patting her shoulder.

Bonus: something that the fans don’t know

Every week, Jungwon and Ari have what they call “Wonri Hour”. No one’s allowed to interrupt them, join them, or pull them away, not the managers, not even Heeseung. They sit together on either of their beds, usually in silence, other times just with music playing. This is their healing time. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. This is different from the baby sheep spot though because that happens at random and the members are free to join them there.

#ari.wonri #enhypen 8th member #enhypen female member #enhypen female addition #ari #yang ari

[mcyt-imagines]

Can I please please please request some first date or first kiss headcanons with Slimecicle? Or just anything soft with him, I'm really not picky :3 (maybe with he/him pronouns for the reader, if that's alright? Thank you so so much!!!)

I’ll do you one better, how about a little bit of both! I adore Slimecicle so I was super happy to write for him, I hope you enjoy! (Also sorry there’s no gender-specific pronouns bc I had already written the whole thing before I realised you had asked for them!)

First Date 

You and Slimecicle have been beating around the bush for a while, practically ever since the two of you first met.

Your mutual friends have started getting so frustrated watching the two of you dance around the subject and eventually put their foot down, barring you and Charlie from meeting up with them until the two of you sort yourselves out.

Slimecicle reaches out first to organise a meeting, he doesn’t call it a date just a ‘hang out’. But when you receive the message from him you know exactly what this hangout is really meant to be.

Slimecicle spends the few remaining days until your ‘definitely not a date’ date, by doing as much work as he can. He buries himself in his work to distract himself, he books the restaurant you plan to meet at for dinner and then immediately tries to forget about the date. He finds himself streaming everyday up until the date.

It’s not that he isn’t looking forward to seeing you, he just knows the more he thinks about it the more nervous he’s going to be.

The morning of the date he spends a good hour alone changing into different outfits, trying to decide whether they are too casual or too formal.

Eventually he checks his phone and realises if he doesn’t leave now, he’s going to be late, so this man literally speeds to get there on time.

You’re at the restaurant early, standing outside to watch the sunset by the large lake next to the restaurant. You didn’t really want to go in without waiting for him.

Slimecicle exits his car to see you standing by the lakeside, the warm glow from the setting sun against your skin steals the breath from his lungs. It suddenly hits him how awestruck he is by you, and by the fact that you could actually like him back, seeing as you agreed to this obvious date.

He is slow to approach you, almost tentative to break the spell you seem to be under. Lost in your thoughts as the sun slowly dips beneath the horizon you feel a hand on your shoulder. “It’s gorgeous, too bad it isn’t as gorgeous as you.” His cheesy smile still brings a soft smirk to your lips. The bouquet of roses he had been clutching with his clammy hands is passed to you with a nervous chuckle from him. “Thank you, Charlie. You look very handsome as well.” You refuse to meet his eyes as a bright red fills your cheeks, and he can only watch as you hold the bouquet close to your chest smiling brightly.

“Shall we?” He offers his arm to you, wanting to give you the choice whether to take it or not. You do of course, pulling yourself closer to him as he leads you towards the restaurant. “Sorry I was late by the way, I uh, truth be told I was trying to pick the perfect outfit.” He admits sheepishly, a blush rising to the tips of his ears at his admission. You don’t judge him for it, simply looking up at him with a soft smile and a wink. “I think you spent your time wisely then.” His blush darkens as you reach the lobby of the restaurant and are quickly seated.

Charlie has you both laughing the whole time, cracking as many jokes as he can. He finds himself feeling less nervous the longer the dinner goes on, seeing how relaxed you are with him relaxes him in turn.

At one point though, he’s laughing so hard he knocks over a glass of wine and makes an absolute mess. Which only causes you to both laugh harder, and the poor waiter has to come over while the two of you are trying to choke out apologies through giggles. You both felt so bad afterwards and tipped big as you left to apologise.

First Kiss

The two of you leave the restaurant, the sky above the lake now filled with sharply twinkling stars that reflect brightly on the water’s edge. “I cannot believe you didn’t even say sorry Charlie.” You shake your head still laughing softly, “I couldn’t stop laughing! And then when I did stop, I choked on my own spit, you saw it happen!” Slimecicle desperately tries to defend himself, arms raised in mock surrender. You softly shake your head exasperatedly before taking one of his hands and leading him towards the lake, determined to make sure this date doesn’t end just yet.

As you both reach the edge of the water Charlie turns to face you and squeezes your hand before moving it to hold your waist instead. And for a few perfect moments the two of you just stare into each other’s eyes. Both enamoured by the other, stars reflecting in their eyes as the soft rolling of waves lulls a sense of peace over the two.

You’re brought out of your thoughts of Charlie when he reaches a hand up to cup your cheek gently, as if he were cradling a precious piece of history. He’s almost reverent in his touch, even at your waist splaying out his hand to feel as much of your warmth as he can. “Can I kiss you?” Your lips fall agape in surprise, even if you knew this was likely how your date would end it still managed to surprise you.

You move one of your hands to cup the back of his neck, the other pressed against his chest above his rapidly beating heart. “Yes.” Your response is breathless and barely above a whisper, he seems almost surprised by your answer. But closes the distance between the two of you with barely contained joy. His lips meet yours and you feel your chest tighten, your hand on his chest tightening it’s grip against his shirt, desperate for purchase.

His hand on your waist moves to your back, pulling you flush against him as you gasp against him pausing the kiss for a moment only for him to pull you back in just as breathless. Until finally your chest begins to burn, and you reluctantly pull away panting. 

“I really hope that’s not going to be the last time we do that.” Charlie looks to you smirk soft and eyes hopefully wide. “Depends on if you’re going to make us official or not.” You raise your gaze to meet his eyes, “Only if you’ll have me.” The nervousness in his tone is something you quell with a soft embrace, wrapping your arms around him and sighing pleasantly. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Charlie.”

 ~Requests are always open!~

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #slimecicle x reader #slimecicle #x reader

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Deviating from game mechanics a bit for the sake of pain/drama, but hopefully that's a worthy enough cause... How about, an Impostor stabs Tango and leaves him for dead, but due to some glitch or stroke of (luck? bad luck?), Tango doesn't die right away. Through the pain and the confusion of absorbing what just happened, he manages to survive just long enough to tell somebody who the killer is...or not quite long enough to get the words out. You decide. :)

i genuinely think you read my mind LMAO bc i was writing something very similar to this but with different people involved, so thank you bc now i get to explore a different idea with those people :D /gen

...

It’s near the end of the round and there’s a lot of crewmates left. One imposter has already been ejected, so Tango feels more comfortable going into navigation by himself than usual. He usually tries to get a buddy to come with him to either electrical or navigation, or the “kill-spots” as he calls them. But this time, he doesn’t feel as nervous as usual. His chance of getting killed here has halved after the last meeting.

As he finishes his download and heads over to the console to do the stabilise steering task. Footsteps catch his ears and he glances over to find someone he believes to be a friend entering the room.

“Oh hey, Impulse. Can you-.”

But he never finishes his sentence.

Impulse’s dagger strikes Tango in the stomach, causing him to choke in shock and pain. He drops to his knees, his hands automatically flying to cover the wound. His stomach is wet and sticky under his touch.

He closes his eyes, letting himself flop against the wall. The pain is immense and he just wants it to stop.

But it doesn’t.

Seconds tick by.

A minute.

Three minutes.

He’s still here.

Why hasn’t he died yet? This has never happened before.

After what feels like years, he forces his eyes open and slowly pushes himself upwards. If he’s not going to die and nobody’s coming to help him, then all he can do is go find help for himself.

Keeping his left hand pressed against his wound, Tango uses the wall to drag himself to the door, leaving smudged bloodstains in his wake.

The journey from navigation towards cafeteria is long and arduous, not least because Tango’s addled brain has to concentrate on so many things: putting one foot in front of the other, remembering to breathe, keeping his hand clamped tightly around his leaking wound, making sure he’s watching where he’s going.

He makes it into the corridor just between weapons and cafeteria before his strength fails and he collapses against the wall. As he glances back the way he came, he can see a long trail of blood from navigation. Maybe that will alert someone to his presence.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, he hears pounding footsteps and a familiar voice calling his name.

Through his flickering vision, he sees Evil kneel down beside him, staring in horror at the blood covering Tango’s clothes and abdomen.

He tries to speak, but he can’t quite manage any words.

“Tango, stay with me!” Evil says urgently. “Stay with me!”

Tango knows he can’t stay awake much longer, so he pours all his remaining energy into opening his mouth and trying to croak out the name of his killer.

Evil turns his head to the side and yells, “I NEED HELP HERE! SOMEONE HELP!”

Within seconds, Brody appears from around the corner and dashes to Evil’s side. “Oh my god, what happened?!”

“I don’t know, I-I just found him like this. There’s a trail of blood from navigation, so I-I think he’s been like this for a while.”

“How is this possible? When someone gets stabbed or shot, they die within seconds. How has this happened?”

“I don’t know, but-.”

Tango coughs. “Im…”

“He’s trying to say something.” Brody grips Tango’s shoulder. “Save your strength, Tango. We’re gonna get you through this.”

But Tango knows that’s not true. So he reaches out for Evil’s hand and grasps it weakly, trying to convey the importance of his message. “Im… Impu…” he manages to choke out.

The effort drains Tango’s remaining strength. His head tilting slightly to the side, he lets out a final shallow breath and his hand drops to the floor.

“Oh God…” Evil murmurs, staring in shock at the blood on his hand.

“Are you okay?” Brody asks quietly.

Evil takes a deep breath. “I’ll be fine for now. But you heard that too, right? He was trying to say Impulse’s name.”

“He was. Impulse must be the imposter.”

“But are we allowed to use this knowledge?”

Brody glances at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this has never happened before,” Evil explains. “Like you said, people normally die within seconds. Nobody’s ever been able to survive long enough to tell us who the killer is. So are we allowed to use Tango’s dying words as evidence against Impulse?”

Brody thinks about this for a moment, before checking his tablet. “It looks like we’ve only got one or two tasks left, so…”

As if on cue, the taskbar fills up and the game finishes.

When he reappears back in the lobby, Tango stays in his seat, lifting up his shirt just to check that his wound is gone, just like he always does when he dies during a round. He feels perfectly normal, apart from the beginnings of a headache at the very back of his head.

His stomach is clear and unblemished.

Dropping his shirt, he hops up from his seat and is immediately grabbed in a hug from either side by Evil and Brody.

“Tango, are you okay, buddy?” Brody asks.

Tango nods. “Yeah, all good. Why?”

Brody and Evil exchange a frown. “What do you mean?” the latter says slowly. “We saw you bleed to death in front of us.”

“Wait, really?” Tango also frowns. “I don’t remember that. Impulse stabbed me, and that’s the last thing I remember. Pretty normal.”

As Evil opens his mouth again, Brody quickly says, “Okay, good, give us a second please, thanks.”

He draws Evil away to the other side of the lobby and lowers his voice. “Okay, this is weird. Tango doesn’t remember anything unusual happening. If it was some kind of glitch that caused Tango to not die straight away, then it also must’ve erased his memory of it.”

“Then why do we remember?” Evil responds.

“I don’t know, but this is kinda worrying. Keep an eye out for anything like this happening again in future, okay? Even if you’re the imposter, just come to me if you can and let me know. I’ll do the same even if I’m imposter.”

Evil nods. “Will do. Hopefully it won’t happen again, though.”

Brody glances back at Tango, who’s now chatting happily with Impulse. The memory of Tango bleeding out on the floor right in front of him is fresh in his mind. This may be a game about death but that was new. That was deeply unsettling. And even though Tango doesn’t seem to remember the incident, Brody would rather not have him or anyone else go through that again.

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

#friday night stabby #tangotek #evilnotion #brodyman #vaunna’s requests

[insomnihan]

han’s Entire Thoughts & Feelings on Dreamcatcher’s “BEcause”

WE ARE F UCKING UNDER ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there are no read mores here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALRIGHT SO-

THE SONG WHERE DO I START WELL- I SAW A COMMENT SOMEWHERE THAT WAS LIKE ‘THIS HAS GOODNIGHT CREEPINESS WITH RED SUN ESSENCE’ WHOEVER THAT WAS YOUR BRAIN IS GINORMOUS™ AND WRINKLY- IF YOU LISTEN TO IT THE SLIGHT SUMMER VIBE IS TOTALLY THERE YET THE PIANO AND THE HARP (MAYBE I DUNNO BUT WHAT I DOONO IS THAT IT SLAPS) THE PRE CHORUS BUILD UP FAST AS HELL THE DRUMS ARE FAST AS S HIT THE CLOCK IS SO CREEPY THE GUITAR IS JUST ASDFFJGHLHKL;;’ THE DOUBLE TIME DURING DAMIS RAP THAT WAS LITERALLY™ AN ATTEMPT TO TAKE MY LIFE (they were this 👌 close istg) AND THEN THE BRDIGE…………………… SOMEONE TAKE THE WHEEL-

AND THEN THEIR VOICES POWERFUL AS ALWAYS AND THAT F UCKING DISTORTION S HIT DURING ‘FOREVER LOVE AND FOREVER MINE’ IS ACTUAL DR*GS- i dunno what it is but the instrumental being like that and then (to me anyway) theres such a sweet undertone (???) in how they sing and then knowing the lyrics likE I KNOW THEYRE OBSESSED- B O I DO I MISS A FAST DAMI RAP P L E A S E I FEEL LIKE SHES THREATENING ME I LOVE THAT PSYCHO NOISE B ICYJ- THAT BRIDGE IS F UCKING CRAZY SIYEONS AND HANDONGS AND YOOHYEONS GENTLE VOICES AND THEN S U A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUREALLYGOTTACOMEOUTOFTHELEFTGODDAMNFIELDWITHTHATICANTSTANDYOUHOWDAREYOUJUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hello hello for the dance section i will be using THE mcountdown performance yEAH THE ONE POSTED BEFORE THE ACTUAL MV/ALBUM DROP- FIRST OF ALL THE INTRO sorry i have to talk about this theyre so creepy and doll like and jiu is so menacing lIKE WHAT THE F UCK IS THAT (someone answer me what iN THE F CUK did she feed yoohyeon)- NOW ANYWAY I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THE ACTUAL DANCE-

OFF THE BAT THE MIRROR INTRODUCTION IS *CHEFS KISS* and then gahyeon choking jiu?????????? LORE????????? IN CHOREOGRAPHY?????????

LISTEN. L I S T E N. ALL OF THEM LIFTING YOOHYEON AT 1:29 LIKE THATS INSANE AND SO FITTING FOR THIS SONG AND VIBE plus yknow………………… handong doing a lot of the lifting………… 👉👈

this specific video doesnt show it during suas verse (which is like Rude™ but fine they show it elsewhere obv) but when shes singing and the rest of them are dropping down slowly………………… yeah-

THE CHORUS EVERY👏SINGLE👏F UCKING👏TIME👏 LIKE THE POSE THEY DO FOR ‘BE’?????????????? THE POWER AND THE GENIUS™ OF IT??????????????????????

DAMI UNHAND ME UNHOLY DEMON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the bridge…………… the rocking from side to side…………… whatever the f uck handong and yoohyeon are doing…………… it was almost like sua was controlling everyone right like deadass im scared-

THE DANCE BREAK PLS LET ME BREATHE

the ending with everyone bowing but gahyeon…………

BICTH……………… BICHY- THE VISUALS JUST KEEP LEVELING THE F UCK UP THATS LIT RALLY INSANE I LOVE THAT FOR THEM- the moment that mystery code was revealed and we were getting demented creepy carnival i waS V I B R A T I N G™ WITH EXCITEMENT the creepy scenery of the  dark hotel lobby and the rundown carnival with the merry go round and teacups AND WITH A CULT and the hallway with the mirrors and the lights (like the use of SO much red and green……… the symbolism………) JUST EVERYTHING IS SO F UCKING ABANDONED AND S HIT- THE LITERAL MIRRORING AND DIMENSION S HIT WHAT THE F UCK!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT CREEPY ASS ROOM WHERE THEY KIDNAPPED GAHYEON IN AND SIYEON WAS ACTING ALL TWITCHY OR WHATEVER WHAT WAS THAT-

TIME TO SHOW WHICH SCENES I LIKED

THE WHOLE GODDAMN THI-

(jk ☺️)

OFF THE BAT GAHYEON MAIN CHARACTER I KNOW THATS RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

…………………… i just wanted to put this here-

i just wanted to put this here too-

HOW DID YOU EVEN GET HERE

id like to think that the real handong is one getting dragged away and the one standing is the doppelganger (for Plot™ purposes)

W H A T T H E F U C K

I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY OTHER THAN IM SCARED-

G OD WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE THIS PART WAS SO WEIRD WHAT DOES THIS MEAN WHAT DOES IT MEAN

HELLO??????????????????

yeah sure let me take this apple from this broken mirror where another me lies within the walls of this creepy hotel anD EAT IT

W E L P-

………………………………… F-

T H E M

I DUNNO HOW IM BREATHING RN-

JIU

whaT IN THE F UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS SCENE IN THIS SCREENSHOT IS ALREADY A LOT the way she looks seemingly unassuming and harmless in that reception desk that brown and white outfit (is her hair in like………… pigtails???) and then the smile to the instant glare you jusT KNOW youre gonna d*e in that place- MAAAAN BANGS OR NO BANGS SHES STUNNING EITHER WAY AND THATS SO RUDE………… the white dress and those red ACTUAL TALONS will be the d*ath of me

SUA

if i counted correctly she had three (3) different outfits??? outside of the dance ones??? white and red then black and purple then that green and black one??? i think of all of those i really like the red and the green one theres SOMETHING ABOUT THEM i think the green one with the big puffy sleeves more NOT BC ITS MY FAVORITE COLOR I SWEAR the green looks silky and then she also has the thing on the side of her face the pearls in her hair- AND THEN THAT RED ONE with the white sleeves and the frilly collar dude whAT THE F UCK LIKE I KNOW WE SAW IT A LOT BUT I WANNA SEE MORE THO……………

SIYEON

OKAYOKAYOKAY LOOK- THIS OUTFIT IN THIS SCREENSHOT I FEEL LIKE I SHOULDNT LIKE IT YET I DO????????????? two completely different looking patterns that animal print and the strips and then that big ass belt (???) around her waist like this shouldnt be like a GOOD look i dont think……… truly only She™ could make this look work 😔😔😔 i got A LOT A LOT to say about the red and orange plaid crop top and skirt with the different colored clips in her head but the only thought going through my Dumb of Ass Stupid Brain™ iS HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

HANDONG

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY NATURAL BLONDE BELOVED this white dress and the BLACK BOOTS AND THE CHOKER SHE BETTER S TOP- AND DO NOT I REPEAT D O N O T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ON THAT SHORT WHITE DRESS WITH THE WHITE BOOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOEVER STYLED HER YOU DONT CARE ABOUT ME AND THE OTHER HANDONGISTS YET I ALSO LOVE YOU SO MUCH the one with the pink dress dont talk to me dont approach me donT EVEN F UCKING LOOK AT ME IM GOING THROUGH A LOT RN

YOOHYEON

im really Dumb of Ass™ i thought that one pink and (maybe???) super light blue dress had a clock on it- BUT MOVING ON FROM THAT the space buns and whatever those accessories those are and the pink makeup this is sO- then the white dance outfit with those (mesh??? lace??? i just know that its see through-) sleeves and those big ass earrings THAT LOOK AT 2:24 the boots (yeah i gotta mention that first since i just ALWAYS have to mention them) the white blazer all those pearl long ass necklaces and whatever that is on the side of her face why do her visuals HURT SO BAD-

DAMI

bicth…………………………………… B I C T H- WHAT HAS THIS WOMAN BEEN DOING??????!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!??!??!?!?! THIS OUTFIT IS SUCH AN ATTACK I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS ON HER FACE THIS WHOLE LOOK IS SOMETHING ELSE™ her tattoo 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 that bottom part of her hair is kinda clapped tho honestly- the pig tails?????? braids?????? in the dancing part on the black and white tiles IM DOWN YALL IM DOWN SO BAD AND ITS F UCKING RUDE™ THAT WE DONT SEE S HIT OF THAT DRESS AT THE END-

GAHYEON

IM GONNA SAY IT AGAIN LEE👏GAHYEON👏MAIN👏CHARACTER👏I👏KNOW👏THATS👏RIGHT👏👏👏👏👏👏👏!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS RED HAIR IS A BLESSING (especially in that high ponytail i-) SHE IS ATTACKING ME BUT YKNOW WHAT THATS OKAY- im SURE theres a plot significance to her two different dresses the mostly black and the mostly white but my brain can only register WOMAN PRETTY that white one in particular…………… the choker with her hair up and those boots…………… i saw it clear as day and im d wording over it-

BONUS TIME: B-SIDE TRACKS (thoughts and parts i liked)

Intro

i usually expect the intro to be like SUPER HYPE AND INTENSE yknow which it kinda is! however it is consistent that it fits very well and captures the overall vibe of the entire album the calm beginning with the bell like were walking into an establishment and at the halfway point it picks up its intriguing and the ‘i like you’ adds a subtle eeriness that adds just enough to make one wanna continue listening its v good 👌

Airplane

LISTEN……………… LISTEN- this is the VERY LAST genre i expected out of this group YET im not even a little bit shocked that they did this like this cutesy izone-esque summer bop of a song is a DREAMCATCHER™ song……………… YALL- THE AMOUNT OF SEROTONIN THAT ‘AIRPLANE LALALALALALA~~~~~~~’ BRINGS IS SOMETHING SO PERSONAL THIS SECOND GENERATION SUMMERY ASS INSTRUMENTAL WHAT IN THE F UCK- I FEEL LIKE IM RUNNING ON THE BEACH I FEEL THE COLD WIND OF THE WATER BUT THE HEAT OF THE SUN AGAINST MY SKIN AND IM PLAYING WITH A DAMN BEACH BALL WITH A COCONUT DRINK (I F UCKING H*TE LEAVING MY HOUSE) JIU AND DAMI SOUND SO F UCKING PHENOMENAL

Whistle

im pretty firm on believing these b sides represent different times of a summer day and this is the late evening or twilight like not nighttime but CLOSE- i thought i wasnt gonna like the whistling part but that only makes it catchieR THIS SONG IS MAKING ME YEARN AND TRYING TO RECALL LOVELY MEMORIES I DONT EVEN HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! then again……………… theres always usually a song on their albums that make me unlock and feel hidden emotions………… THIS SONG GOT ME MISSING A PERSON THAT ISNT REAL this is such a mellow yet so powerful in the way they sing and express each syllable- they all did so good on this song but i gotta mention dami again for her part like oH mY gOoOoOooOoOOOooOD

Alldaylong

JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the way this song was inspired by a hug jiu got from yoohyeon…………… THIS IS NOT A JOKE she said ‘i wanna try city pop’ anD SHE DONE DID IT- i have NO IDEA how this song managed to hold so much joy and light happiness in every word and instrument used in this but im :ccccccc i literally wanna hug someone after listening to this 😔😔😔 this also makes me yearn for something but at least this one isnt unrealistic or unobtainable i dont think! there are some songs out there that make me cry from its lyrics and its sound but THIS ONE the lyrics and just how happy this song is bro reading the lyrics im about to cry for like the fifth time- they who im love so much… :ccccccc doesnt it make you just wanna hug someone and tell them you love them????????? that you appreciate them??????????

해바라기의 마음 (A Heart of Sunflower)

i knew FOR A FACT FOR👏A👏FACT👏 that they were gonna have a ballad for this album bc road to utopia didnt have one i will admit i was one of the 🤡 that thought jiu would be credited on this song 😬😬😬 ANYWAY- AGAIN WITH THE DAMN YEARNING FOR SOMETHING BUT THIS TIME IM F UCKING SAD AS S HIT why must this song be so powerful to make me emotional before i even got to read the lyrics to fully grasp it……………………… now im truly yearning in the Sad™ way and waiting for some imaginary person who i dont even know will even come back…………………… those damn adlibs are pretty as hell it was sua (and i have to mention dami again okay shes really killing it on this she woNT LET ME LIVE-) who got me feeling this the most like yeah…………………… i am a fool…………… im a fool for loving and missing someone who just disappeared from my lifE G O D D A M N IT-

LIKE this is COMPLETELY surprising album BUT IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE as its described it really is a ‘special’ album as while the title track still has their music style and sound theres still an element of summer (a very Terrifying™ summer BUT a ✨Summer✨ album nonetheless) like the b sides are SO different and COMPLETELY caught me off guard when i listened to the highlight medley YET this group of seven amazing and talented women pulled it off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its extremely obvious at this point that their steady and organic growth has grown VERY HIGH this time and (although im still very confused by how everything was released and announced BUT i digress) this different kind of method in performing the song the day before seemed to work?????????? I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE this section could literally be summed to just I LOVE DREAMCATCHER SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

IN CONCLUSION: LISTEN TO THIS ALBUM BECAUSE ITS BOMB AS F UCK

AND AS ALWAYS

#these are becoming harder to do i dunno why i cant focus 😔 #i wanted to switch handongs and yoohyeons pictures as a joke but i didnt want people to think i was stupid and fake 🤡 #dreamcatcher #han.txt #han's afterthoughts

[goldafterglow]

my love is a dagger

Summary: Jack Daniels is hopelessly gone for you, and you’re starting to think it’s a two way street. Maybe.

Request: “May I please ask for Basorexia and Whiskey please? 🥺” - @scribbledghost (ma’am I’m SO sorry this took me so long and then after the long wait you got whatever this is); taken from this post

basorexia: the overwhelming desire to kiss

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x reader

Word Count: 4.8k+

Warnings: suicidal themes (just a little and not really but there’s definitely a line), sexual harassment, anGST!!, PINING omg SO much pining like folks get ready to y*arn, a little bit of fluff bc Jack is a sweet talking southerner and I couldn’t help it, more angst I rly hope you cry, there’s a cute little lesbian couple in one line so don’t read if ur homophobic! but that goes for all of my work :)))

Author’s Note: Thank the GODS for @catfishingmorales for being my first ever beta reader!!! maybe this one will make any fucking sense at all!!! also a special shoutout to my wife @pascalplease bc she stayed up all night vomiting headcanons with me about this and I didn’t even get to all of them.

Gif Cred: the lovely @coredrive​

Masterlist | Taglist Modifications

“Two single-bed rooms,” he says. No; he manages.

Jack has to pry the words out of his esophagus, the passageway so clogged with sleep that he thinks that if he clears his throat he might be able to clear it.

It doesn’t work.

He tends to add a little brightness and smile to his voice when he talks, always eager to please even strangers. He embellishes his sentences with pleasantries and a chipper shimmer that makes even the most overworked bartender smile and the most destitute rancher crack a grin because he has this uncanny ability to make everyone feel special. But right now, at eleven pm on a Saturday evening after what might’ve been the worst, most emotionally grueling mission Jack has ever completed, he is not pleasant. His words are simply a tool for him to get a message out, his voice choked and flat.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but it looks like we only have one king-size room available,” the lady informs. She is looking intently at the screen, still typing and clicking like the words might miraculously change right before her eyes.

The powerful Agent Whiskey’s heart falls into his stomach.

He can’t tell if this is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to him. Is this finally the excuse he needs to sweep you off your feet, like the catalyst giving him the strength to overcome his intense paranoia? Or is this the last straw, the final stone before you step off the staircase of his heart and back out onto the run-down open streets without him? Panic floods his chest and he is so paralyzed that he doesn’t even know what to tell her; for once, Jack Daniels is speechless.

Thank god he doesn’t turn around; he’d’ve seen your wide frantic eyes and would’ve known immediately what you’re thinking.

“Oh, it looks like a vacancy just opened,” the hostess chirps, a hint of relief floating on her words. You and Jack turn your heads to your left, where a young couple is saying their “thank you”s as they rack up the handles of their suitcases, hand-in-hand. One girl leans over to kiss the other on the temple with a smile; they both seem so secure. You turn your head back to the hostess; the sight of two people being content was disturbing to you and frankly a little offensive. “Unfortunately they’re on separate floors. Is that-”

“We’ll take them,” Jack gruffs. He wants to sleep, wants to die, wants to be in any existence where your soft eyes aren’t glued to the back of his head because he can feel it and he thinks you might burn holes into his skull just to find that he’s hollow inside.

Empty.

The transaction is quick and a little forced. She hands you both your respective key cards wordlessly, and if your eyes had lingered on her just a little longer you would’ve caught her face falling into it’s default relaxed state of misery. Jack walks with you to the elevator in silence, but he’s still close. He’s always close to you. Often you’ll turn your head in an empty room and anticipate him being there just to be sorely disappointed, though you aren’t sure what you’re always so disappointed for. His spirit haunts your thoughts, floats around your body and does laps around your brain because he is always there when you need him, so much so that you expect him to be there when you don’t need him. You want him to always be there. To always be with you.

Strange thoughts to have so late at night.

Jack sets his bag down beside you, stepping forward to press the button for you; it’s such a small gesture, something that he probably didn’t even think to do since hospitality runs in his bones, and yet you noticed it.

Strange.

The door opens, and he wordlessly puts a hand on your back, guiding you towards the elevator in front of him. Letting you on first. You can’t help but smile a little at him; you can tell he’s so tired and yet he still finds it somewhere in his heart to make you feel so important.

“You know I don’t need that from you,” you tease lightly, turning to look at him as the doors drag shut. The elevator shudders around you, indicating that it’s ready to start it’s journey to the fifth floor.

Jack grins at you; it’s not something he’s doing with his voluntary muscles, something that he thinks is coming off muted because he just doesn’t have the energy. It’s something he doesn’t even think about doing, a visceral reaction to hearing your sweet voice like aloe vera on his scorched throat.

“Well then, darlin’, take it anyways just to indulge your favorite cowboy,” he almost begs, lip pouted and eyebrows raised like he’s a child asking for candy except he’s an addict crying for just one more dose before the night ends because the nights he goes home without the memory of your eyes, your smile, your scent in his system are the nights he can’t sleep through.

You giggle softly, nudging his side gently because you want to crush him in your embrace and lift him onto the barbs of feathers into the moonlight all at the same time. To Jack, it feels like you’ve just kneed him in the chest, hogging all his air and wrapping his head in plastic so he can’t breathe, not that he minds. He’d let you tear at the delicate skin of the inside of his wrists, bite into the gentle flesh of his cheeks until he’s on his knees, bleeding at the seams. He’d let you destroy him if you wanted to.

He sighs a little, so dead, as a flush of air enters the vacuum of the elevator; you’ve arrived. But he doesn’t want to leave yet, wants to wring every last drop of your attention out of your pliable bones, so he follows you out and walks you to your room.

“I don’t need this either,” you say, a yawn stretching and blurring the edges of your words.

“I know,” Jack concedes, rolling his eyes in a way that is so adoring that he might as well have kissed you full on the mouth.

Not that you wanted him to.

“I know you don’t need a lick of help from me, sugar. Maybe I just like giving.” He grins down at you again, his side brushing against yours as you place slow, careful steps down the carpeted floor.

Yeah, he likes giving.

He gives you his leftover coffee when he “doesn’t want it” - it’s a tall cup of his favorite brew. He definitely still wants it. He gives you his blazer when you call his desk landline just to tell him your office is cold because you know he’ll give it to you. What you don’t know is that it’s because he’s completely and utterly whipped for you - he’d strip naked in a snowstorm to keep you warm, hold you in an icehouse as the bite of the frost burrows into the cracks of his dried skin, because he doesn’t need clothes when you’re in his arms. That’s about as warm as he’s ever been.

He gives you his time of day - almost all of it. He’s the first person you see when you step into work, the last face you see when you’re ready to retire. He walks you to your office every morning - he had to beg Champ to switch offices with him so that he could be adjacent to you, but every ounce of dignity lost was paid back to him with royalties in the precious extra seconds he gets to spend rubbing his shoulder against yours. He saunters into your office unannounced daily at 12:35 pm sharp to eat lunch with you, flopping onto your couch with the audacity of a man wet with wealth and simultaneously listening to you rave about your day with the patience of a therapist. Your time is a sacred commodity to him, and he makes sure that he’s earned it.

He gives you his whole soul. Sometimes he wonders if you’ll one day open your purse and find his glass heart sitting there, beating hard and loud and only for you. He wonders if you’d pick it up and smash it against a wall. He wouldn’t mind it at all.

The silence hangs in the air, dancing on your breaths as you seem to be inhaling each other, soaking in each other. It’s strange, the moments you share alone with Jack. There are the ones you share late at night, croaking at each other over the phone about how shitty that one show ended or how beautiful blue things are. Blue like his suffocated lungs, like the ocean of tears that drown him when he looks at you, like the finger you’ve got him wrapped around real tight.

But then there’s the moments when you’re in a room full of people. The briefing room sitting at a table spanning the length of the room that’s completely full of people, a club chock full of sweat and neon energy, the lobby of the lavish estate of a target where the bourgeoisie can swarm and stalk each other. All he has to do is toss you a roll of the eyes, a grin, a subtle brush of his hand against yours, and you are instantly thrown into the web of his affection as you get lost and locked in the atmosphere of his presence. Like, even in a room full of people, he’s the only one around. You’re not breathing in oxygen but the hickory fumes of his skin, the only sound getting registered being his dark honey voice. You’re not quite sure how he does that, distorting reality so heavily that you feel like you’ve traversed to an alternate dimension every time he touches you, pays any mind to you. Every single time.

“This you?” Jack asks, his words like a rubber band to your pulse as you’re snapped out of your train of thought. You look up at the room number - room 513 - and then down at your keycard. It reads the same. There’s a dull ache of disappointment that erupts through your chest, beige and static like the chipped paint on the walls.

“Yeah,” you mutter, turning to face him with your back to the door. He smiles at you softly, gentle like his fragile soul that you always manage to make hurt so bad without doing a single thing, and he opens his arms to you. Nothing out of the ordinary; you’ve grown accustomed to his goodbye hugs. “You’re so needy,” you giggle, stepping forward to bury your face in his pillowy chest and letting yourself sink into the quicksand of his warmth. It’s so easy to get caught up in him like a butterfly to a flower, and yet it’s so hard to pull away. He’s always been difficult to separate from; every time it’s like you’re sewing a microfractal of your esse into the velvet of him. Not big enough for you to notice, but still missing, and it adds up every time until there’s a big gaping hole in your chest that Jack holds claim to and the only way you feel right is when he’s with you.

I know, he wants to say to you. I know I’m needy. I know that you’re the only one, the only person, the only fucking thing that I’ve ever wanted this bad. I know I steal your time and your space and your thoughts but I’m a greedy man. Please forgive me. But he doesn’t say that; he could never say that to you. So instead he buries his face into the top of your head, trying to get a big sleepy lungful of you before he parts with you for the night, and says “Can you blame me, baby?”

You look up at him, eyes bleary and red but still eager to be so close to him. “Always such a tease.” He smiles wide at you, like he’s looking at a whimsical sprite so colorful and magnificent, but it’s just you. What does he see when he looks at you?

“G’night, pretty girl,” he coos, arms still wrapped around you and eyes big and doe-y. Please don’t leave yet, my perfect thing. Except that’s the part that stings him the most; you’re not his. He doesn’t get to say that sacred “my.”

“Good night, Jack Daniels,” you whisper, words fanning on his cheeks like waves of heat from a bonfire. But you don’t move, and neither does he. Not yet. Please.

He’s looking down at you with a certain reverence, like you were sculpted by the angels and placed right here in front of him with intimate precision. And then, without a breath to spare, he leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead so light that you wonder if it even happened or if someone has just thrown a marshmallow at your face. A friendly kiss from a friend that you’re friends with.

It feels like the seams of your limbs are being ripped out as you slowly separate from him, flashing him a soft smile as you take your duffel bag and unlock the door in front of you. You step into your hotel room, the air conditioning immediately sticking to your damp skin. As you close the door you catch him still standing there, looking at you like you’re something so precious.

Platonically, of course.

You sigh as you look around the room, suddenly freezing. The tiny dress you’re wearing doesn’t add much insulation and the big diamond necklaces and chandelier earrings and silver cuffs adorning your body like ornaments become ice on your skin. Kicking your shoes off and into a forgotten pit of the room, you step into the bathroom. Flicking the light on, you stare straight at the bulbs, letting the light sear your pupils just so that you can focus on something other than Jack fucking Daniels. Your jewelry is the first to go, becoming a delicate display on the bathroom counter. Something so pretty, but they’ve left angry dents in your skin that are starting to inflame and you figured it was too good to be benign. Nothing so beautiful, nothing that makes you feel so beautiful, could do so without hurting the paper-thin barriers of your heart. You’d have to be a fool to not know that.

You open up your duffel bag, fishing around impatiently until you find your makeup remover and cotton pads. As you erase the paint on your skin, removing the rough mission from the memory of your face, you start beginning to look less disheveled and more exhausted. Now you can really see the dark circles under your eyes, the discomfort of Rolex’s touching the small of your back and Armani cologne grabbing at your hips while you let it happen. Your body had become free real estate and in just hours you had broken down to feeling like you were stained, a dirtier version of yourself that couldn’t ever be cleaned.

You hadn’t felt so filthy when you were in Jack’s arms.

Eager to try and scrape the mission from your lungs, you peel the tight fabric off your body, letting out a breath of something far redder than relief as it falls to a pool around your ankles. You turn around to reach for the shower handle and grip it hard, letting the cold steel fill your palm as you twist it mid-way. While you wait for the steam to seep into your pores you reach for a bar of packaged soap on the bathroom counter, sizing up the créme box. It’s about a centimeter thick, easily filling your palm, and you frown a little at realizing that most of it will be thrown away, unused. Such a waste.

Turning your attention to the water, you run your hand under the water pouring out of the shower nozzle. It’s warm enough. But you don’t want it to be enough. You want it to melt your skin, to burn through your used body and shed your cells to unleash the layers beneath, the layers that Jack had touched, because thinking that your body has been safe inside his embrace feels better than thinking that you put your head in the jaws of the alligators and hoped they wouldn’t snap.

Once the water is burning, sure to inflame your skin, you step in and close the shower curtain before beginning to let the soap glide along your arms. Except it’s not enough. You’re not clean enough. So you run the bar over yourself again and again, wearing it down as your skin turns hot to the touch until you’re using the tips of your fingers to salvage the last bits of product onto your chest. Shit. You don’t even realize that the bar is all used up until you feel the sensation of your fingers rubbing against your now irritated skin and yet you still feel soiled. So you elect to give up on your sorry attempt at washing away the strange eerie touches and predatory looks and turn off the water, drying yourself off.

The solitude in the air stings.

By the time you’re laying in your bed and looking up at the plain off-white ceiling so that you don’t have to look at the old collections of dirt in the crevices of the wall and carpeted floor, you haven’t thought about Jack for the past 30 minutes. Not since you were washing yourself and the ghost of his fingers scraped your scalp, making you long for the feeling of his chest pressed to your back and the sound of his voice floating into the vinyl of the curtain liner while his hands danced in your hair - 

Not since then.

But Jack Daniels is most certainly thinking about you, and he’s far too deep to bother pretending that he isn’t anymore.

He stands outside your door for just a little while longer after you close it, staring at the fool’s gold embellishment on the front as he basks in the faint warmth of your spirit that lingers in the space of the hall and inside of his bones. He’s not sure how he got so lucky so as to be able to touch you without abandon, kiss your forehead out of greed and hold you in his arms because he really is so needy. He replays the scent of your dainty floral perfume and rewinds the heat of your forehead under his used, chapped lips, trying to commit you to memory as if he hadn’t done this a million time already, as if he hasn’t tried to burn a million of your hugs into the plush cotton of his skin like a brand. Your fading ghost consumes his mind, and by the time it’s whispering farewell to him, he’s already at the bank of elevators waiting patiently for the doors to open for him. Jack does a lot of that; waiting.

The weight of his duffel bag starts to grow and he can’t tell if his tired left arm is getting weaker or if the bag is getting heavier, but he can tell that his nerves are aching because he already misses you.

He’s always missing you.

The trip to his room is quiet, lonely, and as the elevator doors close for him to make his way to the 6th floor he wonders if this is how it’ll always be. Having you so close, seeing you right in front of him, and yet never truly being with you the way he wants to be. Never belonging to anybody, just a wisp of air passing through your life without holding any true substance or having any real meaning to you; but what a privilege to be one of your wisps. To have been in your lungs and have seen what he imagines are wide open plains, vibrant with wildflowers and gentle beasts. He wishes he could stay.

The elevator door dings.

This time he is caught off guard and he inhales like a shudder, eyes darting around the cold yet damp walkway to see if anyone has caught him thinking, caught him yearning.

Hallucinating.

Deluded.

He steps inside of the compartment with his stupid heavy duffel bag, immediately letting it fall to the elevator floor. His eyes find the plastic, cloudy buttons making up the keypad of the elevator. His left arm lifts to press the “6” button but he immediately regrets it, feeling a searing agony shoot through his shoulder. He mutters a little “fuck” to himself like it’ll help balm the pain, and of course it doesn’t, but Jack is a stubborn man and the buttons are to his left, so he shakes his arm out the way you shake out your boots before stepping inside mama’s house and tries again. But his dry, chapped fingers struggle to reach for the buttons, shaking in his own seismic wake. It takes him a few seconds to steady himself, taking temporary control over his body so he can actually touch the button; the plastic is cracked, a small piece having fallen off to be lost, likely thrown away. A discarded fracture in the shell leaving the inner label forever open and exposed, never to be whole again.

The elevator door shuts.

Jack lets out a low sigh, leaving his arms to fall to his sides as he leans against one of the walls. The back wall of the elevator is reflective, muddled and stained but clear enough that Jack can see what has become of him. His stetson is barely on his head anymore, his tie crooked and his collar untucked. He almost feels like a suit monkey, walking around playing dress up with the caveat of poisoning a man’s fresh champagne. But you told him he looked so handsome all gussied up like a proper gentleman worthy of taking a dime like yourself out. So he leaves it at almost.

He does a lot of that too.

The elevator hiccups, and as expected the doors open, inviting him to leave. He looks down at his duffel bag and he can already feel the weight of it on his weeping muscles, but he’s so close to his room and he can’t give up now that’s he’s made it so far, so he uses the momentum of his swinging right arm to sweep the bag up off the floor and drags himself out of the elevator. Not the best thing he’s ever done, but certainly one of his proudest moments.

The sixth floor is less damp, less like a moldy underwater cave and more like he’s at the top of a breezy mountain where the strands of air are like spurs to his cold, tight skin. Crisp. It is different, and yet he feels the same. Like his joyful warmth has drained out of his system, flushed out of his body, and on the inside he is the 5th floor of a shitty decrepit hotel in the middle of fuck all Kentucky. 

He makes quick work of finding his room, the inertia from getting off the elevator being the driving force that gets him down the two hallways and standing before room 645. He pulls out the plastic keycard, adorned with scratches on its surface and stains on its edges, and shoves it into the card reader. With a subtle flash of green and a gentle click, the door gives way for Jack to practically fall inside. He flings the bag as far across the room as his arm will let him, letting gravity control his movements as he is drawn to the white mattress in the center of the room. He releases a groan a little louder than should be appropriate this late at night - he checks the alarm clock on the bedside table to confirm that it’s 11:08. He hasn’t been apart from you for longer than what, 4 minutes? No, he did stand outside your door for a little bit. He decides it’s been 5 minutes.

Oddly enough, the extra sixty seconds don’t make him feel any less fucked.

Now that he’s finally still, his body begins to focus on how sore his legs are as any pain grows from the ends of his limbs and seeps into his chest. He can feel the weight of the night press down heavy on his diaphragm, suffocating him in a way that travels to his eyes and sprays sand like mist onto the walls of his throat. He selfishly lets himself lay there for a second, thinking about that weight being you pressed up against him, face buried in his chest or his neck or in his own face. It’s sacrilegious the way Jack thinks about your touch, the flutter of your lashes like majestic butterfly wings against his cheek, so enticing. So pretty.

His shower is fast despite the way his muscles screech at him to let them rest, begging him to just fucking sit down. When he leans down, back made of creaky burnt red iron, to reach for his sleep clothes, he does a double take; there’s not much in the bag at all. A bunch of small, disguised weapons, communications devices, a pair of grey sweats, a white t-shirt. Nothing oppressively hefty to pull on his tendons; at least, not in a way that could practically drag his shoulder out of its socket. Then suddenly he remembers; he had been holding your bag until you’d both reached the lobby desk. It was a long walk from where you’d been instructed to dump the care and the hotel, so after watching you squirm a little in the freezing air, he offered to take your bag off your back. He’d walked with a bag in each arm for maybe a minute before he realized that his greedy fingers missed being wrapped around your side, missed your melted essence seeping into his stomach, so he’d held both bags in the one left hand for the rest of the thirty minute walk. He hadn’t even noticed how bad he was hurting; perhaps you were too distracting, smile too alluring as your words painted his eyes in lilac and blinded him from his own discomfort.

For being the one person Jack wanted, you sure did hurt him a lot.

Once he is dressed, he lets his sore body absorb into the linen sheets as his muscles finally find some form of permanent relief in the salve of stillness. But this is a dangerous state to be in; when Jack isn’t talking someone else’s ear off, he thinks. He fantasizes, ponders, mulls and muses himself into a state that is suspended between consciousness and sleep.

He thinks about your lips.

You’ve never been too shy to mouth him off, poking and prodding at him and his eccentric cowboy aesthetic. Seeing you walk in every morning and beeline it straight to greet him with a casual fifteen-second hug sends daggers flying into his heart every time, a pain that he’s learned to brace himself for and yet can never seem to be able to handle. And when he looks down at you, adoring eyes and all, he can never help but glance at your lips. It’s always short, a self-indulgent guilty pleasure that he could never admit to, and he thinks about the way they feel against his collarbone when you hold him tight. He thinks about the way they might feel on his own lips.

Sinful.

And then he is thinking about that wretched mission, flashes of luxury clothes and manicured hands trying to feel you up right in front of his eyes. The way you fake smiled at men with money and wrinkles as they leaned into your ear, trying to whisper enticing tales of exorbitant trips to islands that are garishly tropical and dresses so exclusive and designer that no one in the world would own a duplicate. Watching in utter silence because no matter agonizing his need for you is, you’ll never be his.

Suddenly that ache in his body has traveled to his face. It’s so painful to think about you, and yet he takes the jagged edges of his love for you and drags them through his wrists because he’d rather fucking bleed than ever forget you.

Outside his window he hears the clouds crash into each other as an icy downpour beats the pavement. And like a curse, at the expense of his own self-destruction, the image of you in his arms in front of room 513 slices through his brain. Your face right under his mouth, forehead right up against him, your lips right fucking there. And then the feeling of you pulling away. Of you leaving him to rot with the flies, because he’s never going to be strong enough to tell you how bad he needs you,  let you tear his heart into a million pieces for good.

From somewhere in his room the rain begins to fall on his face.

people who asked to be tagged: @gustavos @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @ergotautology

people who most certainly did not ask to be tagged sir: @agentpike @damndamer0n @dindjarindiaries @moonglowcarrillo @girlwithanewplan @mrpascals @bunnykjm @maxlordd @buckstaposition​ @cryptkeepersoul​

This is new so I’m putting it down here too, but I made a little form for those of you that want to be added/removed from my taglist (pls take it my tags are very disorganized rn).

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey angst #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels angst #angst #iris writes #iris original #this was supposed to be a cute fic about wanting to kiss ur crush #and now it is #this #wow the mistakes i make

[koushou]

Could we get uuh,,, Todoroki x f!reader who is insecure abt their looks bc they look more "boyish" than most girls? 😳 As much as I love being an androgynous queen, I get insecure sometimes, esp when it comes to guys liking me

this is my first ask im 😳💕💕

beautiful

pairing : todoroki shoto x f!reader {fluff}

warnings : none really, like the teeniest suggestive ending, just todoroki being like the best bf ugh 😩

a/n : thank you so much for requesting anon!! i tried my best, im so sorry if it isn’t exactly what you wanted but shoutout to all the androgynous queens you’re amazing !! <3 (also can you tell im terrible at titles pls)

shopping mall dates with your friends were always something you looked forward to, shoto knew this well. so why had you come back to the dorms empty-handed?

The familiar ringtone playing from your phone woke you up from your slumber, as bright sunlight shone through your windows where the curtains did poor job of providing you with any coverage. You opened your eyes and would’ve immediately shut them if not for the music still coming from your phone on your nightstand.

Swinging a hand blindly over, you felt the cool screen of your device and brought it close to your face, as an all too familiar contact name displayed on the top of the screen.

Grumbling slightly, you pressed the answer button and brought it up to your ear.

“Y/N!! Are you still sleeping??” You almost wanted to hang up right then and there from the cheery girl’s voice ringing into your ear. 

“Mina, it’s-” You glanced over at your alarm clock on the same nightstand, “-literally 9 in the morning, what do you want-”

“Come on! You remember we have another shopping day today, right??” 

You rubbed your eyes and rolled over in bed on your side, away from the blinding light illuminating through the glass windows.

Shopping dates with your girlfriends in Class 1-A took place almost every weekend, something you always looked forward to. Hero training was stressful, everyone was always striving to further improve and expand their quirks and skill, almost never having time for any sort of break. 

Truthfully, you had forgotten about your planned day with the girls today, since it had been a pretty tough week, with work piling up on top of one another, heck, you were barely keeping up your grades. 

“Oh...right.” You ran your fingers through your somewhat messy, medium-length hair, attempting to comb it slightly and getting rid of the small knots that had been formed in your sleep.

“Hey, don’t tell me you forgot - anyways, we’re meeting up downstairs at 10, so see you later!!” 

“Yeah, alright.” 

Quiet beeps signaling the end of your short call with Mina, you sighed and wondered how the alien girl managed to stay so hyper in the morning, not that you were surprised anymore. 

Sitting up in bed, you let out a yawn and stretched out your body, excited for the day to come. 

On some days, you just wanted to sleep in and have a day all to yourself in the comfort of your small dorm room, but these shopping sprees with the girls always took your mind off any troubles on your mind.

Throwing your blanket to the side lazily, you get up from your bed and groggily made your way to the bathroom, phone still in hand. Flicking on the light switch, you cringed at the sudden brightness.

A notification noise sounded from your phone, a smile spreading across your face as soon as you saw who the sender was - your one and only white and red haired boyfriend.

Unlocking your phone, you were met by a few text messages from your lover.

shouu <33 : good morning love, have you woken up yet?

shouu <33 : you’re going out today with the others right? i wish you could come and be with me, but i hope you have fun.💗

Your heart could not handle this level of cuteness in the morning.

Turning on the water to get ready for your morning shower, you typed out a reply to your boyfriend.

                                                             good morning shouto 🥺 i just woke upp

                      imy so much as well, i promise i’ll be with you when i get back!!💕

You stripped off your clothes and hopped into the shower, the water more on the warm side, exactly how you liked it.

After about 20 minutes, you stepped out with a towel wrapped around your torso, the cool air hitting your legs, making you shiver slightly. You made your way over to your closet in the corner of your room, picking out what clothes to wear.

It was scorching hot out, and you were feeling lazy, so a simple black t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts seemed like a good choice.

The time was about 9:40 when you had finished brushing your teeth and mindlessly slapping on some sunscreen, you didn’t want to become tan, after all.

Internally crying, you shoved your wallet with your credit card inside your small purse you usually brought when you went shopping, making a note to yourself to cut down a bit on your purchases. 

You knew that promise was going to go out the window as soon as you step foot in a store, but hey, you always felt better after coming back to the dorms with bags of clothing in your hands.

Deciding to head down to the common room earlier to grab a quick snack to eat, you received another message from your phone.

shouu <33 : i’ll be waiting for you, love.

shouu <33 : are you sure you don’t want to use my father’s credit card? i don’t think he would really care if it gets maxed out, you know.

You giggled at your boyfriend’s message even though you knew he was being 100% serious.

                                                                                   shou...bby, i cant do that-

shouu <33 : alright then, be safe and text me when you get there, okay?

                                                                                                            i will! ily <33

shouu <33 : i love you too :)

When you reached the common room, you were met by pink, black, green, and brown haired girls.

“Y/N!! Good morning!!”

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N-chan, ribbit.”

“Oh hey Y/N!”

You smile at your energetic friends, Mina, Momo, Tsu and Uraraka, who were all lounging on the couches. 

“Good morning, guys.”

Mina lets out a whine, “Where is Jirou? That girl is almost always never on time-”

“What’s that, Mina?”

A voice from behind the girls spoke, causing everyone to jump and turn at the same time. 

“O-oh good morning Jirou-”

The purple haired girl stood behind the couches, and your eyes scanned over her outfit. A white, loose short sleeve hung around her shoulders, paired with some black shorts. A simple outfit, yet she made it look so much more appealing.

She charged towards Mina, who was now desperately hiding behind Uraraka. It was then that you finally took notice of the other girls’ outfits, and suddenly became all too aware of your own.

Mina, with a pink shirt tucked into her jeans, a black belt as a finishing touch. Her curves showing perfectly, all in the right places. You would expect her pink hair to be messy and puffy, but it was tamed, neatly brushed, and reminded you of soft cotton candy. 

A cropped maroon top, with black jeans, complementing Momo’s smooth, black hair which was put up in a lower pony tail than usual. Her gentle features sure to attract admirers wherever she went. The way her dark bangs framed her face, the way her smile was bright, genuine - an appearance of a true, proper lady. 

You glanced down at your own outfit, trying to smooth out wrinkles in your own shirt. No genius was required to see that you obviously stood out in your group of feminine friends, you being the only female with short hair and a different style.

It wasn’t that you hated the way you looked, but it made you think sometimes that you weren’t as attractive or liked as much, compared to your friends.

“Well then,” Uraraka clasped her hands together, interrupting your thoughts, and grinned. “Shall we get going?” 

You all cheered, getting up and ready to head to the shopping mall. 

Mina locked her arms in yours and dragged you out of the doors, grinning at you while the other girls trailed behind.

“Come on old ladies! We’re gonna max out our cards!!” She yelled at the sky once you were outside, the hot summer air hitting your skin immediately. 

“Hey, who’re you calling an old lady?!” You smacked Mina’s arm, making her stick her tongue out at you.

“Fine, whoever gets there last is an old lady!!” 

Your pink haired friend takes off toward the mall which was located about 20 minutes away from your school, with you laughing and running after her, followed by your other female friends.

The negative thoughts you had on your mind previously vanished as you all ran after one another, not giving a care in the world to the questioning looks passersby shot your ways. Spending time with your friends always somehow managed to brighten your mood, regardless of whether they knew how you were feeling or not. 

And your love for them could never be put into words.

6 girls arrived at the Misako Mall, panting, out of breath as they bought water from a vending machine.

“Oh-” You pant, fumbling with the buttons on the machine, inserting a few coins in and watching as the bottle falls to the bottom. 

“Ura-ha..ha...Uraraka, you’re an old...ha...lady!” Mina teased the gravity-quirked girl in between breaths.

“Yo-you’re so mean, ha, Mina,” Uraraka coughed, sputtering as she practically shoved the water bottle down her throat, drinking half of the bottle in a few seconds.

“Slow down - ribbit - Ochaco-chan,” Tsu patted the said girl’s back, making sure she didn’t choke.

“Well, guys, where do you want to go first?” Momo spoke up, after you guys rested a bit on the benches in the lobby. 

“I kind of wanted to check out the accessories in that shop we passed earlier,” Jirou scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, nodding towards a shop near the entrance of the mall.

You all turned to look at the store she was talking about, not surprised to see the exterior of the shop decorated in dark, emo-style accessories - exactly Jirou’s style.

“I want to go there too - ribbit,” Tsu nodded in agreement, this time shocking the group, since Tsu had always seemed to be into more cuter accessories. 

“I was actually interested in that one over there,” Momo tapped her chin thoughtfully, gesturing towards a high-class looking store on the second floor of the mall. 

“That looks nice! I really like that white dress they have in the front,” Uraraka stared dreamily at the level above you guys, and an idea popped into your head.

“Why don’t we split into pairs? That way, we can all check out the stores we want to and meet up back here when we’re all done!” Your suggestion earned approving nods from the rest, all of you agreeing to text in the groupchat you had when you were finished in your stores.  

Tsu and Jirou, Momo and Uraraka, and you and Mina walked off into different directions of the mall, chatting excitedly.

You and Mina decided to first go into a casual-styled store filled with jeans, tops, jackets, etc. 

Walking into the store, a friendly cashier at the counter greeted you guys, who you both smiled back at.

Thankful for the cool air conditioner providing a contrast to the burning weather outside, you scanned the racks for anything that caught your eye.

“Oh! Y/N look here!” You turned to where your pink friend had ran to, spotting her a few aisles down.

Making your way towards her, she holds up a light pink, off the shoulder top decorated with small flowers and a lace ribbon in her hands eagerly.

“Do you think this would look good on me? I really like the color!” She beams at you, holding the clothing item up to herself, admiring it in a tall mirror nearby. 

You study it for a second, before smiling back at her and nodding excitedly in agreement.

“It suits your skin color so well too! You should go try it on!”

“You think so??” She grins at you happily as you chuckle back in response. 

“You should pick out some clothes first, then we can go to the changing rooms together!”

“Okay, let me look around a bit more!” You walk off to the other side of the store, studying any clothes that may peak your interest. 

A striped red, orange, and white button-up shirt catches your eye, hanging on one of the racks. You take it and hold it up to your torso, satisfied with the way it looked. 

Keeping it around your arm to try on later, you decide to pick out a few more clothes to try on to avoid making multiple trips to the changing room. Just as you were about to turn around and continue your search for more clothes, you felt a figure approach behind you. 

“Hey, uh, sorry to bother you but I thought you were really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?”

A voice made you turn around, and you were met by a man who looked a bit older than you. 

He was standing right in front of you now, his eyes staring at...the top of your head?

You cleared your throat awkwardly, not expecting the sudden question. 

“Oh! Thank you, but I have a boyfriend already, I’m sorry-”

The man’s eyes finally focus on your face, before laughing at you.

Wait, what?

You furrowed your eyebrows at the still laughing man, who looked down at you like you were a mere piece of dirt below him.

“I’m not talking to you, you’re not even pretty?” He scoffed when you gaped at him. 

“I’m talking to the hottie behind you,” He grinned and stared past you to whoever was standing there.

You slowly turned around, expecting to see some random stranger behind you, but you were met by a puff of familiar pink hair.

“O-oh, Mina...” You mumbled, not wanting to make eye contact with your friend, disheartened from the man’s words.

You were never one to get bothered by anyone’s words, especially not from a stranger, but this one hit you differently.

“What did you say to my friend?! You wanna repeat that, huh?!” Mina yelled at the man, steam almost emitting out of her pink ears. 

“Woah, calm down, pinkie, I just wanted to get your number - I didn’t know she was your friend.” He chuckled, and glanced at you again.

“Just saying, you could do so much better.” It was like bullets, the man’s words, aimed straight at your heart.

Storming up to the man, Mina slapped him directly on his face, leaving both of you in shock.

“Say that again, I dare you!!” You ushered Mina away from the furious man despite her protests of wanting to beat him up.

“Hmph, who does he think he is?!” You stopped walking when you guys were a good distance from the stranger.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your emotions and not make a fool of yourself in a public space.

“It’s fine, I-I don’t really care,” Sighing, you gave Mina a small unconvincing smile, which she saw right through.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Don’t listen to him! He’s just blind,” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

You chuckled softly, trying to change the subject, “I’m fine, come on, let’s go try on our clothes.” 

Mina sighed, eyeing the one top you had on your arm. “You only have one shirt? Don’t you want to try on more?” 

You scanned the racks around you guys, randomly picking a pair of black plaid pants, flashing your friend another smile. 

“It’s okay, there’s not much I like here,” You grabbed her arm and led her into the changing rooms, chuckling at her pile of clothes hanging over her arm. 

“You sure got a lot, Mina.”

“Their clothes are really nice!!” 

Mina and you went into rooms besides each other, and you could hear the girl squealing while trying on her clothing.

Instead of trying on your clothes immediately, you slumped against the white door, taking a deep breath, the man’s comments still on your mind.

You’re not even pretty.

You could do so much better.

Wrapping your arms around your torso, you looked in the mirror on the wall across you, taking in your appearance.

There were few things about you that would seem appealing to any man, and you should’ve gotten over the stares people give you wherever you go by now, but it was hard.

It really was.

Of course people would be attracted to Mina first, or anyone in your friend group, for that matter. She was outgoing, kind, bright, and feminine. 

Tears poking at the corners of your eyes, you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand before they fell. 

Why couldn’t people just accept who you were?

Why couldn’t people accept the fact that you were happy in your own body, and that you loved yourself the way you were?

The common stereotype that all females had to be feminine, had to be proper, you were tired of it.

A loud knock from the other side of the door you were leaning against sounded, and you jumped a little, before hearing your friend’s cheery voice. 

“Y/N! Are you finished? I want to show you the top!”

“Oh- One second!”

Quickly tidying up your appearance to get rid of any hints of your silent breakdown, you unlocked the door and looked over Mina.

You were right.

The light pink color of the top really did complement her skin color well, her slender shoulders were exposed, and the lacey ribbon around the collarbone area of her shirt gave it a finishing touch.

Gasping, you admired how good it looked on her, while she giggled and jumped excitedly in place.

“It looks so beautiful on you Mina!!” You gave her a small hug, giggling along. “It’s like it was made for you!”

“Thanks!! What about your clothes?” She nodded towards your top and pants still sitting in the changing room, untouched.

You coughed, “Oh- uh give me a second, I still need to try on the top,” She nodded and pushed you back into the room eagerly.

“Show me when you’re done!”

You nodded and smiled back at her before walking back into the room and locking the door behind you.

You had already lost all interest in shopping today, but reluctantly changed into the striped button-up shirt, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

It was okay, nothing really special, and you certainly wouldn’t be spared any second glances from anyone. Not that you cared, you were already in a happy and healthy relationship with Shoto.

Shoto.

A thought suddenly popped into your mind. 

What did Shoto think about your appearance? Coming from a rich family, it was only natural that he would be into proper, feminine females. 

Why was he even dating you? Does he actually mean it every time he calls you beautiful?

Maybe you should change your hairstyle. Or the way you dressed. Maybe then, Shoto would love you.

Maybe then, he would think you’re beautiful.

Running your hand through your short strands of hair, you suddenly didn’t want to be here anymore.

You wished you were in the safety of your dorm, under the blankets where no one would have to look at you.

You were probably an eyesore, walking around everyday at school, getting judgmental looks from left to right.

Shaking your head, you tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, straightening yourself back up.

Unlocking the door again, wanting to get this day over with, you were met by a excited Mina as she looked over at you. You noticed that she had changed back to her own shirt.

“You look great Y/N!!” She hopped excitedly over to you as she admired your top.

You shrugged, glancing down at your top. “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.” 

She raised her eyebrows at your response, asking worriedly, “Do you not like it?” 

“Not really, it’s kind of plain.” Sighing, you picked at the sleeves and wrinkles of the shirt. 

“Oh,” Mina pursed her lips together, cocking her head to the side. “That’s alright, then. What about the pants?”

Truth was, you had forgotten to try on the pants while you were inside, and you didn’t want to risk purchasing something you weren’t sure would look good on you.

“Oh-uh, I didn’t like that one too much either,” You glanced back at the item still hanging in the changing room.

“Oh no,” Mina pouted. “Are you going to buy anything?”

Biting your lip, you shook your head. “Guess not.”

It wasn’t really that you didn’t want to buy anything, you just thought that at this point, it didn’t matter what you wore.

Because, you weren’t as feminine as other girls.

"Give me a second to change back, and we can go to another store.” She looked like she was about to say something, but decided to close her mouth and nodded instead.

The remaining time you spent with Mina was just her jumping around stores excitedly and you mindlessly staring at clothes you wouldn’t ever buy.

It was about 2 in the afternoon when you all decided to meet back up, ready to head back to school.

You realized that you hadn’t bought a single item in the past 4 hours spent in wandering around the mall. 

“Y/N! Did you not buy anything?” Momo asks worriedly as you and Mina approach the other two pairs in the lobby.

You shook your head at the tall girl, sighing, “Nothing really caught my eye today.”

“Oh, we can walk around a bit more together if you’d like!” Uraraka offers, holding a large bag in her own hands.

You smiled at her words, shaking your head again. “No, it’s alright! I’m sure we’re all tired, let’s head back.” 

“Gosh, this weird man came up to us earlier and had the audacity to call our little Y/N here unattractive??! And then proceeded to ask for my number??” Mina huffed, clenching her fists dramatically at the memory.

You chuckled awkwardly. “Mina, you didn’t have to slap the poor man.”

“Poor man? By the sounds of it, he hasn’t learned his lesson yet.” Jirou speaks up, cracking her knuckles, eyes darkening. “Where is he?”

You laughed. “Jirou-”

“Oh dear, that’s terrible.” Momo patted your shoulder. “You’re very beautiful, Y/N, you know that?” 

You smiled at the kind girl, letting out a deep breath. 

“I understand where he’s coming from, though...” You mumbled quietly.

“Did you say something, Y/N?” Uraraka asks from next to you.

Shaking your head quickly, you link your arms with the brown haired girl, grinning at everyone. “Let’s head back now!”

Pushing open the large glass doors, you were met once again by the humid air, the sun’s rays burning down on your exposed skin.

The girls chattered happily about their new purchases, peeking inside the others’ bags and taking a couple out to show.

Even though you walked in the middle of Uraraka and Momo, you couldn’t help but feel left out, not having any new clothing to wear.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nudged Momo, making her turn around and look at you.

“Hey Yaomomo, what’d you get?”

She smiled and opened her bag for you to peek inside, and you almost had to close your eyes from the amount of bling inside,

Bling, meaning dresses decorated in gems, with a few jewelry pieces and other accessories. Of course, there were a couple casual wear on the bottom of the bag.

“Oh, I’m not even surprised anymore,” You pretended to huff at Momo, turning the other way.

“You’re so classy and fancy, Yaomomo, are you trying to flex your class on me?” 

She laughed, slapping your back lightly. “Oh sorry, I just can’t help that I’m so rich and proper.” 

You tensed up at her words. Of course, you knew she was being sarcastic, but her use of words hit the same spot in you again as earlier. 

“Hey guys...” Mina starts, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” An ominous feeling settles in all of your stomachs. 

“Last one to the dorms is an old lady!” 

All of you groan, watching as the pink alien girl takes off once again, having no choice but to follow behind.

6 girls arrived back at the dorm building, panting once again. 

“Mina- ha, I swear to - god,” You breathe out, pants coming from all six of you.

Mina just giggles at you as you all arrive back in the common room. Your classmates are sprawled out in different places throughout the room, and their heads all perk up simultaneously at the new arrivals. 

Bakugou were surrounded by Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero, as always, trying his best to swat them away. 

Tokoyami and Aoyama were chatting in the kitchen, while Iida, Midoriya and Shoto hung around the TV, watching whatever movie was put on.

Ojiro, Koda, Shoji, and Sato were nowhere to be seen, you guessed they were up in their own rooms. 

“Oh, hey guys! Welcome back!” A certain red-head’s voice chirped from the middle of the room, flashing you all his big smile.

“Hey Kirishima!” Mina smiled back at the boy before making her way up to her own room to organize her newly bought items. 

Momo, Tsu, Jirou, and Uraraka followed after her, while you made your way over to where your boyfriend was on one of the other couches. 

“Hey, love.” Shoto smiles at you softly as he opens his arms for you to give him a hug. 

“Hey Sho,” You happily accept your place in his arms, tired from the long day you had. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you as well,” He plants a small kiss on the top of your head. He was about to say something else before a realization dawns on him.

“Love, did you not buy anything?” You gulp, afraid that your boyfriend would see through your feelings and ask you what was wrong.

“Oh- uh, I just didn’t feel like anything caught my eye today!” You shrug, hoping that he would accept your answer and move on.

Of course, Shoto could be dense at times, but he is everything but stupid.

He always knew how you adored these little shopping sprees with your girls, and never once had you arrived back empty handed. On top of that, your vibe just seemed a bit...off.

“Can we go to your room and cuddle? I’m a little tired,” You look up at him, to which he responded by giving you a small kiss and chuckling.

“Of course, let’s go, love.” 

After saying goodbye to Iida and Midoriya, you both made your way to Shoto’s dorm, immediately flopping down on the bed after stepping inside.

Shoto laughed softly at your eagerness, wasting no time and following in after, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you flush against his chest.

The warmth and vanilla scent of your boyfriend was enough to calm you down and get rid of any past bad thoughts you were having earlier that day.

You felt him bury his face inside your hair, inhaling softly your shampoo from this morning. Normally, you would’ve swooned at the action, but it somehow made you feel uneasy. Insecure.

Shriveling away a little from his body, you were met by a very confused Shoto staring back at you.

“...Love?”

You bit your lip, not sure how to explain why you seemed uncomfortable.

“I-,uh, Shoto?” Your eyes made contact with his as he hummed in response. You decided it was now or never.

“Do you...think I’m pretty?” Biting your lip anxiously as you awaited his answer.

Confusion flashed through your boyfriend’s face. What kind of a question was that?

That was what he wanted to ask, until he noticed the tears forming in your eyes, and worriedly sat up, bringing you with him.

“Of course I think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, darling.” 

Not convinced, you sniffle before asking again, “Really?”

He furrows his eyebrows together, lifting you up and onto his lap so you were straddling him now, both of you in a sitting position.

“Did something happen, love? Why are you asking me these questions?” He reaches up to wipe a stray tear that had slipped its way through your eyes with his thumb. 

“No reason-” You started, but your boyfriend’s piercing gaze told you he wouldn’t take that as an answer.

Taking a deep breath, you avoided his eyes as you began to speak.

“Today, when we were at the mall, a man came up to me, called me pretty, and asked for my number-”

Shoto raises his eyebrows, to which you wave away quickly.

“-I thought he was talking to me, but turns out he was speaking to Mina, who had been standing behind me. He then called me-” You cleared your throat, a bit anxious for your boyfriend’s reaction. 

“He said that I wasn’t pretty, and that Mina could do so much better than being friends with someone like me...” Your voice trails off as you felt Shoto’s grip on your waist tighten.

“He...what?” You could’ve sworn you saw flames flicker behind Shoto’s eyes, his left and right hands heating and cooling on your sides without thinking, to which you yelped a little, surprised by the temperature change.

His eyes softened, looking down at your waist and rubbing it softly. “Oh- I’m sorry, love, I did not mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, smiling at him. “You didn’t hurt me at all, Shoto.”

He exhales deeply, looking into your eyes. “Baby, you’re the most beautiful, kind, amazing girl I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t ever listen to what anyone else says, you’re absolutely perfect the way you are.”

Shoto plants a deep kiss on your lips, tears threatening to spill over at his touching words.

When you pull away, there’s still a lingering thought in the back of your mind. 

“Don’t you ever wish - that you had a more...you know...” You rubbed your eyes, sniffling as the first few tears made their ways down your cheeks.

Shoto tilts his head to the side as he pulls you closer to his body, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. 

“A what, love?”

“You know, a more...feminine...girlfriend?”

You nervously glance at him, waiting for his response. 

There’s silence for a moment, and your heart drops. 

“Who ever said that girls have to be feminine?” 

You directly look into his eyes for the first time that evening, confusion plastered on your face.

Shoto has a soft and loving, but firm expression as he speaks. 

“I don’t care if you dress, or appear differently than other girls. There is no “correct” way to look if you are a certain gender. You’re absolutely beautiful no matter what you do, or wear.” He leans forward to peck your lips once again.

“But...when I look at someone like Yaomomo, she’s just - so much more attractive and proper than someone like me...”

Shoto sighs, tilting your chin down to look at him.

“Proper? What’s not proper about you, Y/N? Your hair? Your clothing choices? Baby, you could wear a trash bag, have long hair - or even shave your head bald, I’d still fall in love with you all over again.” 

You giggle a little, making him chuckle, seeing that he successfully cheered you up a bit.

“I mean it, Y/N. I love you, and I’ll continue loving you, forever. Please don’t ever feel like you have to compare yourself to other girls, because you’ll always be the prettiest girl in my heart.”

Your heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting as you leant forward, kissing your boyfriend deeply. It was like all your emotions were expressed through that kiss. It was almost as if Shoto’s loving words washed away every single insecurity that has ever passed your mind in your whole life.

“Thank you so much, Shoto. I love you, so, so much.” You both grin as you placed your foreheads together, noses brushing against each other. 

“I want you to say it, love. Tell me you love yourself, and that you’re beautiful.” 

Your face heated up from the request, placing your hands on Shoto’s shoulders and trying to push him away, only to have your wrists caught by his strong hands as he leaned closer. 

“Come on, Y/N, I’m waiting,” he smirks at your flustered expression. 

You pouted a bit, before taking a deep breath, embarrassed from Shoto’s intense stare.

“I-uh- I love myself the way I am, and...I’m beautiful.” You squealed and cover your face with your hands after finishing your sentence, not used to those words coming out of your mouth.

A laugh escapes Shoto as he pries your hands away from your face, placing a kiss on your nose. 

“That’s right, love. What do you say we go shopping tomorrow, just me and you?” 

Your eyes brightened at the idea, and Shoto could feel butterflies flooding his stomach. 

“Yes!! I’d love that, Shoto,” You threw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, burying your face into his hair.

He chuckles in response, leaning back and studying your face for a moment, making you confused.

Then, he takes your arms and pushes you back until your back is pressed against the bed, pinning them above you. His body hovers over yours, as his knee sneakily moves up to place itself between your thighs.

“But right now, let me show you just how beautiful you are, darling.”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #mha x reader #todoroki fluff #mha shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #bnha scenarios #mina ashido #bnha tsuyu #momo yaoyorozu #jirou kyouka #uraraka ochako

[livelongdolan]

Teacher’s Pet (G.D. & A.D.)

Summary: When you encounter a new teacher your freshman year of college, Grayson gets a bit jealous but there’s another feeling brewing inside of you. *This is a fanfic including Grayson Dolan and Adam Driver*

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: threesome smut, spanking, choking, just everything honestly lmao

A/N: i sent morgan an ask and i could NOT get it out of my head so this is what happened (btw this is dedicated to her bc she’s my fellow adam driver lover @vinylhazza hehe ily, also to my best friend Joie bc she helped me with the storyline uwu ily)

Tags: @vinylhazza (idek anyone else who would like this but lmk if u wanna be tagged!)

     You had always had friends that were older than you, so when you got into college you already knew about one of the professors you’d end up having freshman year. You were majoring in anthropology and the one in charge of the class for the first year was Professor Driver. Your friends had snuck pictures of him in class, talking about how attractive he was constantly but also how incredibly strict he was. You never really understood their infatuation until you walked into his class for the first time. The way that his nose curved, along with his jet black hair and hazel eyes had you hooked, not to mention how broad his shoulders and torso were. Friends of yours knew that you had changed your mind about him but what you didn’t know was that your best friend and soon to be boyfriend Grayson had noticed too. He sat next to you in the same class and watched the way you practically drooled over the tall man dressed nicely in a casual suit. But it also didn’t help that you constantly talked with him after class about how handsome the older man was. 

     “Gray I’m serious I think he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” The two of you are walking side by side after leaving the class and you can’t get your mind off Professor Driver. 

     “Really? You see me every day Y/N” He smiles, half joking. You playfully hit his shoulder and just laugh at his comment. 

     “Oh my gosh don’t even get me started on his body. His shoulders? Crafted by the gods Grayson I’m not even kidding. He’s just so…” you pause for a moment, trying to think of the perfect word to describe him “...big. Like massive. He could throw me around like a rag doll.”     At your comments Grayson pretends to throw up, slight jealousy brewing in his stomach but he’s not letting it show just yet. 

    “Y/N he’s our professor, you're gross.” He laughs but there’s slight meaning behind his words. You decide to ignore it and the conversation topic changes after a few more laughs from you. 

                                                               ~

   The next day the two of you walk into class, going through the classwork as you steal glances at the man at the front of the class. You make eye contact a couple times but look away quickly at each occurrence. After receiving your essay tests back from the week before you noticed that you had many more comments on yours than anyone else had, scrawled in purple ink. You showed your paper to Grayson and he gave you a look of surprise. 

     “Maybe he has a crush on you.” Grayson jokes. You shove his arm away and laugh, not realizing how loud you’re being.  

     “Miss Y/L/N. Care to share what you’re laughing about with the class?” Professor Driver’s voice carries loud across the classroom, booming off the walls into your ears. You instantly feel your face heat up at his comment. 

     “No Professor Driver sorry.” You mumble just loud enough for him to hear. 

     “Then I suggest you don’t laugh in my classroom. Keep it outside.” He speaks in a stern voice, sparking slight excitement mixed with fear inside of you.

     You simply nod in reply and smile at Grayson, making sure to stay quiet the rest of the class so as to not get in trouble again. After the lecture is over, you let Grayson know that you are going to stay behind to talk to Professor Driver. Although it isn’t his official office hours, you know he has time before the next class ends so he stays in the same room. You decide to take this opportunity to apologize sincerely for being loud in class as well as ask him about the notes left on presumably only your test. Walking towards his desk, you grip your essay in your hand and approach his desk where he is sat grading. 

“Professor Driver?” You ask, trying to get his attention. 

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” He responds, still keeping his eyes focused on the grading at hand. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I am truly sorry for what happened in class today. I’m just good friends with Grayson and we got carried away and I laughed too loud I promise it’ll never happen again I just-” 

“Stop. It’s okay. Just as long as you don’t do it again we won’t have any problems.” He interrupts. “Now is that all?” 

“Um no,” you pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts, “I actually wanted to also ask about my essay.” 

Before you can get any further he interrupts you again. 

“You know the rules. Talking about assignments is for office hours, not for time when I am working on your other assignments. You know where the clipboard is so sign up for a time and I’ll get to you.” The entire time he is still focused on the papers in front of him where you notice that there are no comments on anyone’s assignments, furthering your confusion. 

“But-” You try to speak before you are interrupted for the third time. 

“Y/N.” He says your name in such an intense manner that butterflies start up in your stomach. “I told you what to do. Follow the rules.” 

Feeling intimidated, you simply nod your head and make your way out of the classroom. 

                                                           ~

     About a week passes by before there is an opening in office hours. Since the professor is so strict about everything and grades so harshly, everyone is trying to salvage their grades. A couple days before you are supposed to meet, Grayson tells you that he needs to talk to you after school and that it’s very important. You meet him outside the library, where you usually meet, and start walking around campus before stopping in front of a small group of benches where people typically eat their lunch or study. 

     “Listen, Y/N, I need to tell you something. It’s been weighing on my chest for a while and even if it doesn’t turn out to be good I just need to get it all out.” He explains. You simply nod your head in response, allowing him to continue. 

     “I like you. More than a friend. I like you and I want us to be together if you feel the same way.” The words spill from his mouth quickly as if he’s scared of saying them. 

     “You like me?” You say in disbelief, not fully believing it since you’ve never seen him in that way before. He simply nods, shying away from saying anything more. “Why me? Like we’ve been best friends forever what changed your mind?” 

     “Well to be honest with you, when I heard you talking about our professor I got this really jealous feeling in my stomach and it wouldn’t go away so I just went home and thought about it for a bit and realized that I like you I guess.” He lets out a slightly awkward laugh. “And why shouldn’t someone like you? You’re beautiful, smart, and I don’t know I guess I just found something in you that I never noticed before when you talked about him. Sooo…”

     “I’m honestly not sure how I feel about you Gray, but I wanna explore this. I think it could work if I just figure out my emotions. So how about we just spend some time talking and stuff before becoming official?” You question, hoping he says yes because you honestly felt guilty about being so attracted to your shared professor still. 

     “Yes of course Y/N. No rush at all.” His smile is as bright as the sun at the news and the two of you continue your walk, the casual banter usually shared between the two of you having a new feel to it after his confession. 

                                                           ~

     The next couple days before your meeting with Professor Driver, you and Grayson spend almost all of your time together and you are definitely getting feelings for him. With each brush of your hands together or an accidental bump into the other, you feel your attraction growing to be as strong as his yet still not enough to be official yet. You had never noticed how attractive he was before all of this had happened though. Of course you had always known he was a handsome guy simply because his features were nicely arranged but you found yourself just wanting to look at him a lot of the time. A couple times he caught you, laughing and grabbing your hand to intertwine it with his as you continued whatever you had been doing. You were definitely in it now. But what about Professor Driver?

                                                           ~

    It was finally the day of your meeting with Professor Driver and you regretted wearing the skirt that Grayson had wanted you to wear for him, simply because you knew how clumsy you were and didn’t want to accidentally flash your teacher. Although in your mind deep down you knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.

     After classes were over for the day, you instructed Grayson to wait at the bench right outside of the building so that you could get in and get out fast, returning directly to him. You made your way into the lobby, continuing down into the familiar classroom. Professor Driver was sitting at his desk on his computer, presumably putting in grades or something else having to do with all the grading he’s been doing lately. 

You knock slightly on the door and he motions to come in. You walk in and sit across from him in a plush chair with wooden arms, immediately putting your essay on the desk in front of you. 

“So I was just wondering about my essay test because I noticed that, at least from those around me, I am the only one with extra comments added. I got a good grade and the comments are positive so I was just wondering why mine has comments and others who did just as good do not.” You speak concisely as to make sure things are fast, not wanting to spend any more time around the temptation that is your professor longer than you have to. 

“Well, I saw that you have potential. The students I believe have potential, I actually put extra work into and make sure I add what they have done right and wrong to improve them as students and people. You just happen to be the only one with potential in this class therefore you are the only one with extra comments. Your essay was the only one to fully address each thing I instructed you all to address and with the work you do in class I see that although you do spend some time messing around with Mr. Dolan, you get your work done and you always hit the nail on the head.” As he speaks he almost unnoticeably glances down at your chest, where your cleavage was showing due to the low v-neck of your shirt. You take notice but leave the looks to your imagination, a red blush covering your face and moving down your neck at his compliments. 

“Thank you so much Professor Driver. I really appreciate your kind words.” You smile sweetly at him. 

“It’s no problem Y/N” he uses your first name once again making butterflies arise in your stomach. “Good girls deserve praise.” He is barely speaking above a whisper but you still hear him, the words instantly affecting you. You clench your thighs slightly to keep your arousal at bay. 

“What was that Professor?” You pretend as if you didn’t hear him, hoping it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

He looks you up and down before gazing directly into your eyes. 

“I think you know what I said. I can tell by the way you’re clenching your thighs together Y/N.” It hadn’t registered that he was tall enough to see clearly over the desk. You immediately move your legs apart quickly, accidentally giving him a peek of the pink lace panties you were wearing.

“I-i’m sorry Professor I didn’t mean anything by it I’m kind of seeing someone I just-” Before you can finish your sentence, Grayson is walking up to you. You hadn’t realized that he’d come inside to check on you and heard what just happened. 

“Yeah you’re damn right you’re seeing someone. Me. So why are you” He looks pointedly at the large man sitting in the chair across from you “saying things like that to her? Doesn’t seem very professional of you to say, does it?” 

The professor is taken aback by Grayson’s words but simply looks up from his sitting position. 

“You’re simply too young to know what she wants. You can’t pleasure a woman without experience.” The words fall freely from his mouth as if he hasn’t a care in the world and he returns to grading the papers in front of him. 

Grayson’s mouth opens quickly in shock before he closes it again, responding angrily. 

“And what the fuck would you know about pleasing a woman? Don’t think you’re all big and bad just because you’re an old man. And not that you need to know, but I have plenty of experience thank you very much.” Grayson moves closer to you as he says this almost as if he’s protecting you. 

Professor Driver places his pen down before pushing his chair out from his desk and standing to his full height. Your breath is caught in your throat as you see how much taller the man truly is compared to Grayson. It’s not a lot but considering the circumstances it’s enough to make a difference. Grayson’s head tips back a bit as to make eye contact. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about so I’d be quiet if I were you.” The professor warns. “You probably haven’t even made her wet yet,have you? But I had her clenching her thighs together with four simple words. So tell me now, Mr. Dolan, exactly why you think you have experience?”  

Grayson is almost at a loss for words but an idea springs to his head. He reaches over to you, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you towards him causing you to let out a small whine at the pressure on your roots.  

“She’s mine. It doesn’t matter what the fuck you say.” Grayson’s eyes are red with anger. The bigger man steps forward so that you are now stuck between the two of them, tension so thick you couldn’t even cut it with the sharpest of knives. The two large men sandwiched you between them as angry glares are shared, the amount of testosterone elevating due to the threat of the other male. You looked between the two, having to tilt your head back to see both of their faces before you realized the expanse of their chests on either side of you. The way that they had you, you felt more like a prize to be won than an actual person. You weren’t complaining. 

“How about we let Miss Y/L/N decide? We can both fuck her and she’ll chose who she likes better. Although I think it would be a waste of time since we all know it’s me.” Professor Driver proclaims. Grayson reluctantly agrees as he turns you towards him. 

“Mr. Dolan. Go lock the door and pull down the curtain.” The professor’s eyes are trained on you as he says this, large hands moving down to your waist and pulling you towards him. “Gonna be a good little girl for me, huh?” He whispers in your ear, sending chills down your spine as you nod your head. 

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ do what you say.” Grayson argues, observing already what a grasp the older man has on you. The same man’s movements stop and he holds on to you. You look at Grayson with pleading eyes. 

“P-please Gray. Lock it and close the c-curtain. I need you.” Your words are filled with a deep whimpering hunger that you can no longer control. Grayson gives in since you said it and does as he is told. As he is walking away, the professor leans close into your ear. 

“You are allowed to call me anything you want. My name is Adam if you’d like to call me that but I prefer something a little more fun.” His lips are ghosting across your ear as he speaks, your knees going weak at just his words. Grayson returns quickly, grabbing your forearm and pulling you into his chest, before kissing you passionately. His lips are rough against yours and you can feel the anger in each movement he makes. Before you know it, Adam is behind you placing his hands up your skirt to take down the lace beneath. He rids of the small piece of fabric and lifts your skirt, large hands canvassing your ass before placing a harsh smack across it. You moan into your kiss with Grayson, letting him know the amount of pleasure you’re receiving from the admittedly more experienced man. 

Grayson moves away from you and pulls your shirt over your head, throwing it behind him along with your bra before kissing all the way from your neck down to your nipples. He takes one into his mouth, kneading and pinching the other with his other hand. While all of this is happening, Adam is removing your skirt and reaching his hand between your legs from the back to rub at your sensitive core which caused his hands to practically drip with your arousal. Before Grayson is done the professor pulls you towards him by your hips and turns you around by your hips, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around him, your core rubbing against the material of his button up, neither one of the men having gotten undressed yet. 

“S-sir please. Need more” You whine, burying your face into Adam’s neck and biting on the skin there. He lets out a grunt at your teeth against his skin. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you.” He reassures you, sweeping everything off of his desk and placing you on top. Grayson moves towards the two of you to keep himself included but he has no idea how to get access to you in the position that the older man has put you in. As Adam is unbuttoning his pants to be able to slide into you, Grayson takes his chance and moves towards you, crouching down after pushing the professor away and licking up the juices dripping from your core. Adam steps back, slightly impressed by Grayson’s willpower but still wanting to win you over. He lets Grayson continue, walking around to the side of you and moving your chin to face him. You come face to face with his huge cock and almost gasp in amazement of how big it is. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever seen.

“Open your mouth princess, take me in.” He demands softly, using his thumb to open your mouth for you before sliding himself in. The combination of him in your mouth and Grayson’s mouth fixed on you has you moaning around your professor so much to the point that after a bit he almost comes. He pulls out of your mouth and moves back around to where Grayson is. 

“Move.” He demands, feet planted firmly as to assert his dominance over the younger man as he unbuttons and takes off his button up shirt. Grayson heeds what he says and moves to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 

“Do you want my cock in you, dirty little girl? You want me to fill you up, huh?” Adam asks, rubbing his tip up and down your folds to tease you before you answer. You pull away from Grayson’s kiss as he moves down your neck, gripping your hair tightly before moving his other hand to grip your neck. 

“Y-yes please sir. Please.” You are almost crying at how desperate you are to be filled, pleading eyes looking directly into Adam’s. He smiles at your begging and plunges all the way into you, making you shout out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Grayson comforts you, leaving soft caresses all down your body. He even tries to rub your clit when your hips buck up but Adam smacks his hand away, instead pressing his forearm against your hips to force them to stay down. 

“You say you’re experienced but don’t even know not to let her be such a greedy little bitch? Yeah okay.” Adam snarks, Grayson simply ignoring him and standing up so you could suck him off like you had done to Adam earlier. You open your mouth and take Grayson in as Adam pounds away into you in a way so good you can’t even begin to explain. Your legs are shaking with each pump he takes in and out before you finally are about to release around him. 

“You need to ask my permission to cum, baby. If you want it you need to beg it’s not just gonna be that easy.” Adam’s previously stern voice turned a bit sweeter at these orders, knowing it would be difficult for you to keep everything in considering how hard and fast he was going. You pull away from Grayson and he continues to stroke himself next to you.  

“Please Adam please let me come. Please I’ll do anything. Anything.” The last word comes out as nothing but a whine as you clench around him. 

“C’mon kitten. Cum for me. Cum around my cock.” He only goes harder and faster as he says it, both men now being close to finishing. Grayson soon finishes, his liquids landing across your chest and seeing him is what sets you off. You cum around Adam, your walls clamping down around him so hard that he cums as well. He pushes all the way into you to keep all the juices, both yours and his, all inside of you before pulling out slowly so as to not let anything fall to the floor. Grayson steps to the side, taking off his shirt and using it to wipe his cum from your chest before Adam moves to your face, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. He pinches your cheeks so that your mouth opens and spits straight into it, showing Grayson who really has control. You swallow what he just gave you and moan, legs shaking from how hard you came. Grayson takes a look at the older man and just laughs, observing the destruction they both did to you. Adam smiles in return before grabbing you and making you sit up straight. 

“So, who’s it gonna be? Who’s the better fuck, princess?” The professor asks. 

You pause for a moment. 

“Can’t I just have both?”

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan smut #ethan dolan imagines #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan smut #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins smut #adam driver #adam driver fanfic #adam driver imagines #adam driver smut #clyde logan #ronnie patterson #charlie barber #kylo ren #me #mine #my writing

[dweetwise]

day 10: fairytale

prompt from: flufftober pairing: felix x ace notes: a soulmate au that went from fluff to angst with a happy ending. not even going to tag this as flufftober bc i failed ;w; warnings: implied violence, child abuse mention, death mention word count: 2760

Felix had always been unsure about a lot of things in his life. Throughout the years, he’d wondered if he’d ever fit in with the other kids, been worried that his grades weren’t good enough to get into the university he wanted, and eventually doubted his skills even as an established architect.

But there was one thing he was absolutely sure of, something that he’d known without question for as long as he could remember:

His soulmate was an asshole.

He was woken up in the middle of the night, again, from a sharp pain in his jaw reminiscent of what he thought getting sucker punched in the face must feel like. He blinked awake and rubbed at the spot, knowing it wouldn’t be any use, praying that this was a one-off—

Pain shot up his spine from his lower back, akin to getting slammed against something, before there was a sharp jab to his stomach that made him choke on a pained gasp.

Felix gritted his teeth and wondered how the hell his soulmate was even still alive after three decades of similar treatment.

It had started when he was just a kid, occasionally feeling phantom pains of a skinned knee or a bump on his forehead; typical mishaps from a lively child. His parents had been overjoyed that he had such a strong connection to his soulmate, telling him most people didn’t feel anything until adulthood, and that his soulmate had to be a very special girl.

But then the sensations progressed to kicks and punches and broken bones, forcing Felix to sometimes skip school and lay in bed while his parents’ worried whispers carried through the door, concerns of abuse and questions of “who could do that to a child?” floating in the air.

Luckily the episodes were few and far between and it became just another one of Felix’s quirks for his peers to resent him for.

When puberty hit and some of his male classmates started complaining about strange cramps in their abdomen, Felix was elated to notice that he felt nothing.

And then one day, he felt the very obvious agony of getting kicked in the nuts, doubling over mid-class and causing some of the girls to glance at him in sympathy.

His soulmate was male, and he didn’t know how to feel about that.

On one hand, he knew he’d never meet him. On the other, he questioned if the universe knew something he didn’t, for the first time considering whether the obvious path of eventually marrying a nice girl from a reputable family and popping out some kids to continue the Richter legacy was right for him.

He never told his anyone about his soulmate’s gender, even going as far as to avoid dating altogether. He wanted to bring up his doubts to his parents, but he didn’t have the courage, and then one fateful summer they were gone.

The loss of his parents made him shove himself back on what he knew they’d considered the “right” path, immersing himself in his studies, forcing himself to practice small talk, and even getting a girlfriend. She was even sympathetic to the occasional days where he just laid in bed and cursed his soulmate for getting into trouble again, petting his hair and reassuring him it’d be over soon. All in all, he’d pieced his life together the best he could, and living with the pain became just another annoyance.

But then it got so much worse.

For an entire year straight, his soulmate seemed to get into fights several times a day, Felix helpless to stop the agony over feeling a rib crack or getting hit over the head with a blunt object. He constantly woke up screaming in pain and had to excuse himself from countless business meetings, his entire life revolving around the pain. His only relief were the strong painkillers and sleep medications the doctors prescribed him, but even they weren’t always enough.

He understood why his girlfriend decided to leave, and he was surprised he didn’t feel anything, maybe because he was too high on the meds to really register anything that wasn’t the pain.

Then, out of the blue, it stopped.

Felix took some time to fully realize it, cautious to get off the meds and then dealing with the withdrawal of them. He wondered if his soulmate had died, and instead of feeling the immense relief the thought should have brought him, he found himself crying.

So he resorted to the dumbest thing he could come up with.

He didn’t know what brought the idea on, never having thought to get revenge for the countless hours of pain his soulmate had caused him, but he had to know.

And that’s why he kicked his bedside table as hard as he could, which made him curse and grab at his foot because he hadn’t realized actual pain was worse than phantom pain!

He laid on the bed clutching his foot for what had to be half an hour. The pain subsided to a dull throb but there was nothing in retaliation, no fist to the face or kick to the ribs like he was used to, and the absence of pain somehow hurt even more. He felt alone in a way he hadn’t since when his parents disappeared, choking out a sob—

“Ow!”

—until pain flared up his uninjured leg and he grasped his foot on reflex.

A laugh bubbled up in his throat through the tears, disbelief over the fact that of course the idiot had used the other foot and now they were both basically immobilized for the next couple of hours.

But whoever the bastard was, at least he was still alive, and Felix knew he wasn’t alone.

Life got so much better after that small incident. Maybe his soulmate realized there was an actual human being sharing his pain, or maybe he’d had a close call after the year of violence that made him somewhat change his ways.

Felix had a business partner now, Lauren, who was way too supportive of his predicament. Even if she would chuckle at him when he was cussing out his troublemaker soulmate while ramming his elbow into the wall to get his point across to the idiot, she never blamed him for having to take a day off or having to step out of a business meeting when it got too much.

And he told her more than he’d ever told anyone, from his soulmate’s gender to the worry he felt after the pain had suddenly stopped, and to their current back-and-forth that was almost playful.

So of course she’d notice when he suddenly blushed furiously as they were sitting on a plane on their way to a conference.

“What’s he doing now?” Lauren asked curiously.

“Apparently a goddamn tiger or something,” Felix hissed through gritted teeth, pinching his arm hard and trying to ignore the sharp sting of nails raking down his back. “Who claws at someone’s back like that?”

Lauren burst into laughter and slapped him on the shoulder, and their combined efforts luckily seemed enough to snap his soulmate out of it and get his partner to stop before Felix imploded from embarrassment.

Felix had never felt anything like that before, the only thing having made it through their bond being immense pain.

In retrospect, he should have realized it was because he was getting closer to his soulmate.

The conference in Las Vegas had been Lauren’s idea, and Felix scrunched his face up in disgust as soon as he took in the gaudy faux luxury of the hotel they were staying in.

“Did they pick this place to kill our inspiration? Or get ideas flowing out of spite?” Felix commented, regarding the ridiculous fake gold fountain in the lobby.

“Be nice,” Lauren chastised, and Felix relented, deciding the least he could do for her was not complain about the trip every five minutes.

But then they met up with the rest of the group of international architects and were dragged to a casino for “optional but recommended team-building” and Felix was just about ready to bash his face against the nearest slot machine over being forced to socialize.

Lauren pulled him aside to let a group of security guards escort a patron out of the establishment, Felix sparing an envious glance at the stranger and wishing he could take his place so he didn’t have to put up with any awful group activities.

“Gentlemen, we can talk about this, sì? I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding—” the man feebly tried to address one of the guards.

“Keep moving!”

And then the man got shoved forward and stumbled to the ground, and Felix’s entire world stopped turning as he realized he felt both the push against his shoulder and his knee hitting the hideous marble floor in time with what was happening in front of him.

“Stop!” he was yelling before he even realized, his feet carrying him towards the scene.

“Felix!?” Lauren called behind him, but he didn’t even turn around. He had to know—

“Sir, please go back to your group. This doesn’t concern you,” one of the guards said while another one yanked his maybe-soulmate to his feet, a harsh grip on his arm that made him wince—

And Felix felt the pain like it was his own, hissing out a curse and clutching at his arm through his suit, and from the way the guard’s eyes widened in surprise and Lauren gasped behind him, nobody had any doubt as to what was going on.

The pain disappeared when the guard released his hold on the man they were about to throw out, his soulmate, Felix couldn’t believe it—

“Apologies, sir. We didn’t know he was with you,” one of the guards said, clearing the way between him and who was supposedly the love of his life.

“Oh honey, there you are,” the man lied so convincingly even Felix almost believed him, casually walking towards him. “I was just trying to tell the lovely gentlemen over here about our—honeymoon,” he settled on, a pleasant smile on his face even while flighty brown eyes glanced around as if looking for an escape.

Felix’s head was swimming, and he knew he should say something so the security wouldn’t get suspicious, but he was too busy taking in the fact that his soulmate was right in front of him, not seeming at all phased by the revelation that had Felix shook to the core.

Luckily, Lauren was an absolute lifesaver.

“Why don’t you two lovebirds go get some air!” she encouraged, giving Felix one of her now familiar shoulder slaps.

And that seemed to give his soulmate pause, a hand coming up to touch his own shoulder while his eyes widened slowly in surprise.

“You’re right,” Felix offered Lauren, before turning back to his soulmate. “Come on… ‘darling’.”

He didn’t have to grab the man’s hand to get him to follow him out of the casino, but he did, trying to tell himself it was only to sell the lie better. That still didn’t explain why he felt remorse when he let go.

“Okay, how did you do it?” his soulmate demanded, immediately crossing his arms over his chest and putting some space between them.

And it wasn’t like Felix expected love confessions or a heated make-out session or even any chemistry, but he sure as hell wasn’t prepared for an accusation.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” the man responded. “I appreciate you covering for me, but how did you make me feel it when your friend smacked you?”

“You know how,” Felix insisted, his own impatience surfacing. This wasn’t how he’d imagined their first meeting going at all.

“Yeah, sure buddy,” the man laughed dryly. “Do you know what the odds are? There’s seven billion people—”

“What were you doing in 2014?” Felix interrupted.

“I’m sorry?”

“I felt you getting beat up almost every single day. What the hell were you doing?” Felix accused.

The wariness melted away from the man’s features, replaced by recognition.

“I was in jail,” he said. “In Panama. It, uh, wasn’t the friendliest of places to be.”

Well, that explained a lot, and wasn’t really surprising considering the display Felix saw inside the casino.

“It was fucking torture,” Felix pointed out, and his soulmate winced.

“You’re telling me,” he said quietly, averting his eyes.

“And when it stopped, I was so scared that you’d died,” Felix confessed, not wanting his soulmate to think he was still angry at him.

The man looked back up at him, surprise clear on his features.

“I always thought you hoped I’d died,” he said. “And that you were just… checking. Even after that.”

“Why would I want you dead?” Felix scoffed, a little offended.

“There’s a considerable amount of people who do,” his soulmate shrugged with a sheepish grin. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you’ve been stuck with me as your… you know. Probably thought I was some hot chick,” he grinned but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“After all the times you’ve been kicked in the nuts over the years?” Felix snorted.

“Shit, sorry—yeah, you’re the unluckiest guy alive,” the man chuckled. “I’ve basically put you through hell.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Felix argued. “I was… uh, in a bad place. Several. And it always helped to know that I wasn’t alone.”

“Is that why you started bumping into shit? To get my attention?” the man smirked, and Felix didn’t have the heart to tell him it was because he wasn’t constantly bedridden and in pain and could finally afford to be careless.

“Maybe,” Felix smiled back. “It always felt kind of like… flirting.”

“That’s kinda fucked up, but I’ll take it,” his soulmate joked.

There was a beat of silence as the man regarded him curiously, and Felix took the opportunity to finally properly look at who he’d been sharing a bond with for the past forty years.

The man looked older than him but not by much, grey hair and tanned skin combined with the lively accent giving him an exotic edge that Felix couldn’t quite place. He was handsome, symmetrical features and a sharp jawline with a well-trimmed beard, and even though his long nose was crooked from having been broken one too many times, Felix was mesmerized.

He was shorter than Felix by a couple of centimeters, but had broad shoulders and a nice build that Felix couldn’t help but think would fit perfectly in his arms.

He barely even spared a thought to the tacky clothes the man was wearing, the deep purple button-up with a questionable card print or black sating lounge slacks never something he would personally choose to wear. Still, he wouldn’t mind them strewn on his bedroom floor while they were busy with… other things.

Felix didn’t even realize he’d been leaning closer until a hesitant but oh-so-warm hand effortlessly came up to rest on his shoulder.

“Geez, if I’d have known you were this hot I would’ve done something sooner,” the man purred approvingly, dark chocolate eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled.

“Like what?” Felix was able to ask even while his head was swimming from the compliment, daring to lift a hand to rest on the man’s hip.

“I don’t know. Carve my phone number into my skin or something.”

“That sounds painful,” Felix offered, even though he shared the sentiment.

“Worth it,” the man grinned. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Felix,” he said, trying to ignore how the praise made his neck heat up. “Yours?”

“Ace,” his soulmate, Ace, grinned even wider than before, and Felix looked down at his tacky shirt again.

“Like in the card, or…?”

“Yup!” Ace beamed. “And I know yours means ‘lucky’, which is the most hilarious coincidence I’ve ever heard.”

Felix bit back a comment about destiny, instead voicing the question he hoped was on both of their minds.

“Where do you want to go from here?”

“Well, that’s up to you,” Ace said, giving him a mischievous smile. “You wanna be my lucky charm while you’re here, baby?”

Felix wanted to correct him and say “forever”, but his rational side knew it was way too early to tell. And since he was an expert at repressing his feeling at this point, he had no trouble giving a small smile and offering a casual answer.

“Sure.”

…And that’s where his self-restraint ended, because when Ace smiled happily and wrapped his hands around his neck, Felix found himself immediately going in for a kiss.

The approving moan against his lips told him everything he needed to know.

#riconti #felix richter #ace visconti #dweetwrites #dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #prompt #felix x ace #child abuse tw #violence cw

[turnaboutimagines]

ME AGAIN HELLO being an Incredibly anxious person myself, on top of the Absolutely Buckwild inherent stresses of the dc act, how do u think phoenix might handle a fellow investigator in khura'in who almost breaks down completely during court during both rite of turnabout when they're declared guilty on day 1, and in turnabout revolution when they're all Literally about to be executed?? angsty sure, but like during rite i panicked in Real Life bc i was projecting too hard sdfjsk rip me -❤

I totally getcha, pal!  They’re stressful moments!!!  I freaked out more during Farewell, My Turnabout myself, but I can see how those would make you panic.  I know I was a little on edge during this episode too, but most of that was related to Apollo’s emotional well-being adlskfjasdjf.

The Rite of Turnabout

Your breath is still shallow and ragged, vision still blurry from tears as you crumple into a chair in the defendant lobby.  Maya was declared guilty, the only thing saving Phoenix, Maya, and you from imminent death was the revelation of a second murder…

It was far too close for comfort…

You knew that Phoenix had caught you panicking in the courtroom once the Guilty verdict was read out, he’d stumbled over his words and his eyes kept daring over to you.  You’d only been a burden…

“Hey,” he says, voice soft as he leans down in front of you, slowly placing his hands on your knees to avoid spooking you.  “It’ll be okay.  We can still turn this case around.”

(I just don’t know how yet.)  You can practically read his thoughts from the look on his face and it only makes you feel more guilty.

“I-I’m sorry I couldn’t help more…”

His expression crumples at that and he shakes his head.  “You didn’t do anything wrong, but it’s not over yet… and I’m going to need your help.  I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you—we would’ve gotten a guilty verdict before we could’ve learned of the second murder.”

You give him a dubious look, sniffling and fully aware of the tears still streaming down your face.  You knew you must’ve looked like a mess, but you didn’t care.

“Really.  And I’ll need your help in turning this thing around, too.”  He reaches a hand to wipe away your tears, you can’t help but lean into his touch—grateful for the reminder that he’s still alive, that you’re both still alive.  “You know… times like this are when we need to force our biggest smiles.  Together.”

To make his point he flashes you a brilliant grin, yet you can see the uncertainty in his eyes.  Still, you believe in him and you manage to smile back at him, already feeling a little bit better.

“Together.”

His smile relaxes at your confirmation and as he stands back up, he stops to give you a chaste peck on the lips before offering you his hand.  You still had an investigation to conduct, after all.

Turnabout Revolution

You’re in the gallery when it happens, the royal guard bursting in with guns at the ready—all at Ga’ran’s orders.  A strangled cry leaves your throat as you lurch out of your seat, all without thinking about it.  All because he’s in danger.  One of the guards near Nahyuta turns around to point their gun at you.

Your eyes flicker from the gun to your partner, confused and worried and panicked, but still more worried for his well-being than your own.

Phoenix gives you a begging look, sweat dotting his brow as he tries to nod his head in a way to signal that you needed to sit back down, all while trying to avoid being too sudden so as to not tempt the guards surrounding him to pull their triggers.  Your heart is pounding in your chest, but you follow his wordless order and sit down.

The gun is no longer aimed at you, but you still feel like you’re in the line of fire so long as Phoenix is.  It’s only when the guns are lowered that you’re able to breathe again, letting out a choked sob of relief as Athena rubs your back—trying to comfort you as best she can in the moment.

It isn’t until after things have settled down following Apollo’s victory that Phoenix is able to seek you out with an uncharacteristic furrow in his brow.  If you were in better spirits, perhaps you would have teased him about looking like Edgeworth, but your legs are still shaking and your throat is too dry to form words.

He pulls you close and his hands move up and down your back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.  You wrap your arms around him and just hold him as tightly as you can, not wanting to let go any time soon.  The image of the guns pointed at him and Apollo is still too fresh in your mind for that…

Thankfully, no words are needed as the two of you simply hold each other, finding comfort in your close proximity.

#phoenix wright x reader #phoenix wright imagine #phoenix wright #ace attorney x reader #ace attorney imagines #ace attorney #x reader #self insert #reader insert #scenarios #my writing #timeline: spirit of justice #Anonymous #❤ anon #et queue justice?

[unityghost]

Morning Glory

Part 25 (yikes, wow, homegirl needs a social life) of the Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels series.

Based on one of the most intriguing prompts I've ever received:

Gabe's always torn between wanting to be hurt and wanting to be looked after, so if (somehow) he ended up being caught by a djinn what would he see? and how would he react once someone (read Sam lol) woke him up? like, would he be guilty for dreaming of going on hunts with the Winchesters and feeling like family or freaked out BC he'd just seen Sam attack him with the archangel blade? - Type40Treklock (Fanfiction.net)

It took me too long to get to this. Tumblr followers ... you have been patient with me. Thank you and I'm sorry for the wait!

                                         Morning Glory                                                   

Is everything okay?

You’re not hurt, are you?

I’m not the only one who’s worried. If we don’t hear from you, we’ll come and shake you out of whatever hangover is keeping you from texting back.

“Gabriel,” Castiel interrupted, “I doubt that they’ve gone four days without contact just because of a drunken stupor.”

Gabriel looked up from his phone. “Oh yeah? You’d put it past Dean to take a long-ass Epicurean detour?”

“No, I wouldn’t. But we should at least have heard from Sam. Don’t you agree?”

Gabriel sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

“In any case,” Castiel went on, “You’re right that there’s nothing in your recent exchanges with Sam to shed any light on their predicament.”

“Hey, hey, there might not even be a predicament. This radio silence could be chalked up to anything.”

“Yes.” Cas looked somber. “That’s exactly why we’re here. Speaking of which, I don’t mind flying you back home if you feel ambivalent about this.”

“Cas, please. I already told you eight hundred times that I don’t want you looking into this by yourself.”

“You know that I’m perfectly capable of self-preservation.”

“All right, I get it: I’m not. Don’t try to butter me up with subtext, Castiel.” Besides their voices, the only sounds were the twin notes of a chickadee hiding in the brambles that flanked a nearby playground. The air was heavy and warm, and the sky threatened rain. “Now listen: are you really going to spend your energy on how high I’ll flip my lid if I find Sam hurt, and not stop to consider how I’d react to you getting caught off guard just because you didn’t come with backup?”

Cas grew uneasy. “It isn’t that I don’t understand, Gabriel; I just ...” But he didn’t continue.

“I’m going to take the east wing,” Gabriel told him. “You take the west. Let’s scope the place out for those negligent blockheads instead of wasting time.”

A weird case out in some abandoned hospital, Sam had told Gabriel. But pretty routine, it looks like. Doubt it’ll take more than a couple of days.

Cas had had the good sense to trace the brothers’ cell phones. Locating the signal meant two things: one, the phones were turned on and Sam and Dean could have been answering if they wanted to; and two, Cas and Gabriel didn’t have to spend too much time figuring out exactly which drowsy pocket of suburban Idaho hosted the ruins of an orphaned hospital.

Cas and Gabriel strode to the doors together, but Castiel pulled Gabriel back before either could go inside. “Wait.”

“What?” Castiel appeared vaguely uncomfortable. “I … I have my grace.”

“Mazel tov.”

“And you have ... you have ...”

“Not yet clawed my way back to the surface of the pitiful noodle-pond that used to be raw, untethered cosmic power? What, really, are you sure? Because I hadn’t noticed.” He shook Castiel off. “Cut it out. I wouldn’t have followed you if I thought I couldn’t handle my part in the game.”

That was not entirely true, Gabriel acknowledged privately. He wasn’t useful so much as he was expendable: if he could buy them any kind of time, the extent to which he was able to protect himself wouldn’t matter. What was important was that they find Sam and Dean and, if either of the brothers were injured or trapped, ensure their safety.

The doors were not locked, and probably hadn’t been for a long time – partly because the empty building was ideal for anyone who didn’t want to be noticed by police, and partly because crime rates in this town were impressively low.

The lobby offered an unsettling mixture of scents: there was the damp, rotted wood of the front desk; there was rainwater that had leaked through cracks and crevices; they could smell moldy blankets and a warm undernote of something that might have been human decay.

“Let’s split up,” said Gabriel, just as Castiel said, “Let’s stick together.”

“What did I say about east and west?” Gabriel reminded him. “That’s what this is for.” He held up his phone. “I’ll text you to let you know where I am. You do the same. Or, if things get out of hand, call me and use code phrase ‘Bengal cat.’”

“I really think –”

But Gabriel ignored him to follow the metal wall plaque that directed him to the east wing of the hospital.

What he found was disconcerting: several of the beds were stripped, but some displayed carefully folded sheets that had flushed to the color of jaundice. There were rooms full of cots lined up side by side, and others whose beds had been turned over or shoved into corners. A few of the wards, and one stairwell, had old bloodstains on the floor.

A vengeful spirit, we think, Sam had said. Possibly more than one.

Gabriel bent down to peer beneath each bed. He knew that neither Sam nor Dean could lie there undetected, but perhaps he would find clues, something to guide him to their exact whereabouts or to suggest that they were in trouble.

Truthfully, Gabriel hoped he would find nothing. He was not searching for a body, and had no desire to muddy that conviction with anything that would look at home in an evidence bag.

Any luck? Castiel texted.

I found a mouse, Gabriel wrote back.

A mouse?

Neither of them; I checked. It wasn’t wearing plaid.

Half an hour later, Gabriel got in touch again: I can’t find anything. Gonna check the basement.

The message didn’t send. So he tried a second time, and once more it failed to go through.

Gabriel didn’t have much faith in his relationship with modern technology, because there was plenty he had missed during his time in Hell, and he hadn’t taken much time to acquaint himself with the multiplicity of devices that had flooded the world he thought he would never see again. It wasn’t a priority; there was so much else to learn, so much else to figure out.

With reluctance, Gabriel tried communicating with Castiel telepathically. If Cas felt anything, there was nothing to show for it, and Gabriel did not want to exhaust what little grace he might be able to access in case of an emergency. His grace had lately been fluid, unpredictable, and messy; he could rarely anticipate how much he might have at his disposal at any given time.

He could only assume that the message would send sooner or later, that perhaps it was moving slowly because of signal problems.

Not until Gabriel was in the basement did he realize exactly what was in the basement.

He squared his shoulders and reminded himself that of course they had to check the morgue; it made sense. The morgue was like any other section of the hospital, a room that might contain the living as well as the dead – and, perhaps, the not-quite-living and the maybe-dead.

But Gabriel hesitated. There could be no denying the stench of human putrefaction at this point. This was the first time since his arrival that he realized Cas might have been right to worry about him.

So he detached himself and pretended that he was watching another individual press his palms to either of the cold metal doors.

That was when somebody seized him from behind.

“No!” Gabriel screamed, and tried to throw his captor off. Its grip was hard and tight and unforgiving; this grip was confident and hungry, and Gabriel knew what that meant.

For a moment, he wondered how he could have ever confused the cautious warmth of Sam’s hands with the hands of a monster: this kind of touch, this kind of brutality, was fully recognizable as evil.

He tried to kick the thing’s legs and bite its hand. He felt a palm pressed to his mouth and this time not only smelled but tasted the meaty odor of decay.

He screamed into its hand until there was the tang of blood in his throat. He reached inside of himself for his grace, desperate for power that simply wasn’t there.

“Sleep,” the thing whispered into his ear, and Gabriel grew sick with panic. His nightmares were here, alive and real and ugly, and there was no one to help guide him back to a sense of security.

Gabriel could not remember ever wanting Sam as badly as he did in that moment.

The hand on his mouth was so strong he couldn’t breathe. Somewhere in his mind he knew that he didn’t need to breathe in order to survive, but the terror didn’t abate.

He was still screaming, still sobbing, when he opened his eyes and saw that he was lying in bed in an unfamiliar room illuminated by sunshine.

The smell of death was gone, replaced with the cool scent of cleaners and laundry detergents. The carpet was spotlessly white, and in the corner stood a table with a half-empty bottle of wine and four glasses that still had crimson dregs at the bottom.

He choked on his own tears and stole as many quick, ragged breaths as he could.

The door clicked open and he scrambled away, slipping off of the other side of the mattress.

“Gabriel!”

It was a voice he knew, and the arms that lifted him back onto the bed were not the arms of a brute.

Gabriel was shaking and moaning. He knew how helpless and pathetic he sounded, but he also had heard himself make those sounds before.

“You’re all right,” Sam murmured. “Just a bad dream, okay? Just a bad dream. You’re all right.”

“Where am I?” Gabriel rasped. “What happened?”

“Ssh, it’s like I said - I think you just had a nightmare. Sorry, I thought a nap would help you feel better. You wore yourself out setting all this up for us, I think.”

“What are you - ” Gabriel blinked rapidly, shivering and whimpering as he tried not only to form a question but to figure out whether it was even safe to ask. “Set what up? I didn’t - I don’t - ” His eyes flicked over the room, and he knew then what he wanted to say - A non-smoking suite, I see, spic-and-span as Aunt Doris’s pearls - but couldn’t get it out.

Sam seemed at something of a loss. All he could offer was a hand on Gabriel’s arm, trying to steady him.

“Two minutes ago,” Gabriel managed, “I - I was - ” There was the possibility that he had finally broken, had finally lost his mind really and completely; and the thought made him feel dizzy.

But there was a second possibility that slowed his blood to an icy crawl. “Sam?”

“What is it, Gabe?”

“Does Asmodeus have anything to do with this?”

Sam’s voice was gentle. “Hey, no, of course not. He won’t hurt you again, bud."

“He can mess with me; he can screw around with my memory, my perception - ”

“Yes. He used to be able to do that.” Sam gripped Gabriel’s shoulder. “But not anymore. You’re safe, Gabe, I promise.”

“Where am I? Am I still in Idaho?”

“Idaho?” Sam used his sleeve to help wipe Gabriel’s face, and Gabriel didn’t try to resist. “With this many beaches and kangaroos?”

Gabriel shut his eyes. “Jesus O’Malley, we’re in Australia.”

“Yeah. You brought us here, remember? Set up this hotel for us. Everyone else is down at the pool right now. Jack got to hold a koala this morning. You did a lot for us, and I think maybe you’re just exhausted.”

Gabriel shivered. “Sam, did you ever have so much trouble telling them apart? Dreams and - and what’s really happening?”

Sam considered. “I don’t think so.”

“Not even with Lucifer?” Gabriel was desperate for Sam to be right; he longed for confirmation that he really had just tired himself to the point of oblivion. Or perhaps Sam was lying to him and pretending that Gabriel had achieved something of which he had not been capable for hundreds and hundreds of years.

Sam frowned. “With who?”

“You know who. With my skeezewaffle of a brother.”

Sam looked puzzled. “Who, Jack’s dad? I met him twice at most.”

Gabriel simply stared.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

“Um. I just … I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t feel - ”

“This should have been obvious right away.” Gabriel felt his shoulders relax slightly: he was in no danger from Asmodeus, or from his own insanity.

Before Sam could press him, there was a vigorous rapping at the door.

Gabriel swept the heels of his hands over his eyes in a final attempt to dry them. “Is that Africa by Toto?”

Sam sighed and went to open the door.

“Catch!” cried Dean, throwing a towel across the room to land on Gabriel’s head.

Gabriel tore it off. “This is wet, you maniac! I don’t need your cooties.”

“It ain’t my fault if your reflexes are molasses.” Dean was clad only in neon-orange swim trunks. “I figured a whiff of chlorine might wake you up.”

“You’re gross, Dean,” said Sam.

Castiel and Jack stood behind Dean, dressed more modestly with t-shirts over their swim trunks.

“Jack,” Gabriel croaked. He felt a strangely potent sense of relief at the sight of his nephew.

But Cas spoke first. “Are you feeling refreshed? If you’re up to it, we can go out for dinner.”

Gabriel didn’t reply. Instead, he did what he would have done in any situation: he looked at Sam, hoping he would have answers.

“We’ll order in,” Sam said. “It’ll be fun to try some of the local cuisine, don’t you think, Gabriel?”

“I … I guess.”

“Poor guy’s still recovering from last night,” Dean interrupted. “Doesn’t even have his voice back from the karaoke.” He nudged Gabriel, who tensed at the contact. “Don’t worry, I got the best of your performance on video.”

“Really?” exclaimed Jack. “I want to see.”

Dean glanced at Gabriel. “I don’t know if I’d sanction a G rating on that one.”

“Well,” Castiel chimed in, “We had a good night too.”

Jack’s face brightened. “Yeah, Sam and Cas and I had pizza and ice cream and watched the latest Steve Irwin special.”

“Lucky bastard and all his academy awards,” said Dean. “I hear he’s got his own theme park now.”

Jack peered more closely at Gabriel. “Uncle Gabe - have you been crying?”

“No,” said Gabriel.

But Jack looked disturbed. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”

“Really? I mean, uh - I’m fine. I’m okay. I think I might be allergic to Vegemite.”

Jack took a moment to evaluate, then stepped forward and hugged him.

Gabriel froze.

“I love you,” said Jack. “You’re the best.”

It took Gabriel several seconds to remember that he was supposed to hug back. The embrace lingered until he pulled away, before the smell of chlorine and the dampness of Jack’s hair on his cheek could become any more real.

Dean spoke up. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use a shower.” He waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door. Then there came the hiss of running water.

Sam groaned. “You can kick him out and make him use the bathroom you set up for him.”

“I think he likes your custom shampoo,” Jack told Gabriel.

“So I suppose after we’ve all freshened up,” said Cas, “We can decide what to do. Or rather, Gabriel, you can decide whether you have any energy to go out. Trust me, no one will feel neglected if you’d prefer to keep things on the quieter side this evening. Oh, and Sam - ” Cas laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “If you aren’t feeling up to anything - ”

“Don’t worry about me, Cas.” Sam smiled. “ I’m fine.”

“I know, but … the last hunt was a lot. You were in pain. So if you’re still feeling the effects, we can lie low tonight. I can make sure that - ”

“Relax. I’m good. It’s like Dean said at breakfast, you’ve done enough for us. All right? No need to keep trying to take care of everyone.”

Gabriel’s gaze flitted back and forth between the two of them. “What hunt are we talking about?”

Sam waved a dismissive hand. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve hardly thought about it since you healed me up. Cas is overreacting. Which I appreciate, but I’m really okay.”

Cas nodded. “All right.” He slid his hand from Sam’s shoulder. “In that case, why don’t Jack and I go back to our room and settle down for a while? I have no reason to suspect that Jack is anything but satisfied with the shampoo in our bathroom.”

Jack smiled at Gabriel, and Gabriel snapped his eyes away.

“So,” Sam began once Jack and Cas had exited the room, “You okay?”

“Yes.” The word came out as a whisper.

“No you’re not,” Sam insisted. “I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”

“I’m … I’m feeling fine, Sam. It’s like you said: just a really awful dream.”

“Do you want me in here with you? I don’t mind sticking around for however long you need me for.”

“I don’t. Obviously I’ve got your brother to keep me company.”

Sam’s eyes flitted to the bathroom door. “He means well, I guess. I think he needed some time off.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for. Me, my supercharged celestial batteries, and a non-stop flight to the land down under.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll come back to check on you in a little bit, okay? And if Dean gives you any trouble just throw him to the dingoes.”

“Mm. You know I will.”

Gabriel watched Sam exit the room, studiously ignoring the surge of grief at the back of his throat.

He gave himself no time to dwell on what would happen next.

The first place he checked was the bedside drawer. There, he found a copy of the King James Bible that contained what were more than likely Gabriel’s emendations: “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” said the angel, “For you are in favor with Daddy-o. Congratulations, it’s a boy, and you shall call him either Jesus or Scott - I forget which one.”

He moved to the closet, which turned out to be full of clothing better suited for a wedding or seventies-themed disco party than a relaxing weekend away. Which, Gabriel reflected, made sense if he and Dean had decided to take advantage of traits that, in another life, might have led to something like companionship.

When an examination of the closet yielded no results, Gabriel moved to the table and bent over the duffel bag on the chair. When he unzipped it he found swimwear, perhaps his own. There were trunks, a pair of goggles, some flippers.

Sitting on top of the aquatic regalia sat a rectangular box: slim, unassuming, and discreetly coffin-like.

Feeling triumphant, Gabriel lifted the lid.

Then he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

“Don’t,” said Dean.

Gabriel straightened up but didn’t turn around. “It’s not real.”

“It kind of is, man.” The shower was still running. Gabriel could feel the steam coming from the bathroom, as lifelike as anything else he had encountered thus far. “Look, nobody’s trying to force philosophy into what should just be a nice little family getaway, but - ”

“Don’t use that word,” Gabriel snapped.

“What word?”

“Shut up; you know what word. And I agree that we should keep superfluous proselytizing to a minimum.”

“If you do this,” Dean told him, “You’re making it real.”

Gabriel sighed, then turned to face him. Dean had a towel around his waist.

“You know what, sensei?” Gabriel said. “Get back in the shower and don’t watch if it bothers you so much.”

“Once you see how easy it is, Gabe - ”

“It isn’t easy. It’s practical. Listen, pal, I’ve been around long enough to remember how to pop this lock. Getting out of here will be a breeze no matter what shortcuts I gotta take.”

Dean shook his head. “What reason to you have to leave?”

“You know perfectly well what reasons I have.”

“You’re worried about Sammy, right?” There was an odd melancholy in Dean’s face - an expression halfway between resignation and desperation that Gabriel had never seen on him in real life. “Now’s as good a time as any to worry about your own happiness, Gabriel.” Gabriel tensed, annoyed by the warmth of his full name. “You’re allowed to stick around for you if that’s what you want.”

Gabriel swallowed. “It’s not what I want.”

“Really? Just because you know Sam would miss you?”

Gabriel traced his fingers over the flat of the blade as though toying with a Rubik’s cube. “I miss him, too.”

“He’s right here, Gabe.”

“It’s not the same and you know it.”

“And what’s he going to say when he finds out about this? You have any idea what kind of pain this would cause him? To know what you did to get out? To know how damn easy it was to get your hands on the archangel blade in your deepest fantasies?”

Gabriel closed his eyes. “Who says he has to find out?”

And he raised the knife.

Gabriel remembered very little of what happened after it was done. Somebody lifted him, possibly even tried to carry him - until he fought with such ferocity that the newcomer let go, and Gabriel staggered forward with some assistance.

Somewhere amid the confusion and exhaustion, he registered that there was no odor of death on the arms that guided him. The voice in his ear, saying things like, “Try not to fall over” and “It’s just me,” was soft and familiar.

The next thing of which Gabriel was entirely conscious was waking up in his own bedroom, rolling onto his side, and seeing nobody.

Not real, he thought, but then remembered that it probably was. He had done what needed to be done in order to extract himself from that venomous amusement park with all its perfect temptations.

He pushed off the blankets. Someone had made sure to leave the bedside light on. He was dressed in the same clothes he’d worn on his trip to the hospital. Gabriel felt himself relax slightly: nobody had stripped him down.

When he tried to sit up, he hissed in pain. Peeling back his shirt, Gabriel saw that there were bandages on his abdomen, moistened with blood. Of course - there would not be enough grace for him to heal any injuries sustained during unconsciousness. He hoped it was Sam who had tended to the wound.

That was when Gabriel remembered that Sam could be anywhere, that he might have imagined his presence in the hospital earlier. Panicked, Gabriel forced himself to his feet and ignored the dizziness that came with the sudden movement.

He heard hurried footsteps, and the door slammed open.

“Sit down!” Sam cried, hurrying over to him. “Come on, don’t try to get up - not yet.”

He guided Gabriel back down.

“I’m fine,” said Gabriel. “Just made the fatal mistake of trying to stand up before all my senses had a chance to rehabilitate themselves. Did your spidey senses tingle?”

“No, I - I just heard you moving around.”

Gabriel closed his eyes, willing the vertigo away. “Hey. Potato brains. You told me you were facing down a vengeful spirit.”

“Yeah, we were.” Sam tucked the blankets more securely around Gabriel’s shoulders. “The djinn was the one to kill the guy.”

“Well, didn’t you two just hit the jackpot.”

“You shouldn’t have tried chasing after us, Gabriel.”

“Wasn’t my idea.” Gabriel opened his eyes and focused on Sam’s face. ���I didn’t want Cas going solo.”

Sam sighed, looking worried and relieved all at once. He seemed to be waiting for Gabriel to speak.

Finally, Gabriel did. “Look, I’m sorry. I wish I’d been able to defend myself. At the very least to put up a good fight. If my grace levels were anywhere near where they should be, that thing wouldn’t have gotten within two feet of me, let alone into my head.”

“It’s okay. Don’t apologize.”

“How long was I down there, Sam?”

“Not long, I’m pretty sure. We heard you screaming.” Gabriel blinked. “Then you were down there with me? I was on your trail?” Please tell me I did something right.

Sam nodded. “By then, we’d caught on that we might be looking for more than just a pissed-off spirit. Guess you were in the right place at the wrong time, huh?” He forced a smile. “Thanks, but why didn’t you at least wait for backup?”

“Didn’t want to lose time. Cas was half-convinced we were on the prowl for a pair of Winchester-shaped corpses. Sam … in what universe did you think it was okay to ignore us for that long?”

Sam shrugged. “Couple of teenagers stole our phones. And wallets.”

“How hunterly of you to allow adolescent fugitives to make off with your valuables. Why didn’t you at least pray to me or Cas? I mean - I don’t know that I would’ve heard you, my grace being as floppy as it is, but he would have.”

Sam offered another weak smile. “We didn’t think about that, Gabriel. We weren’t in any serious trouble. Why would we ask for help when we didn’t need it?” He peered more closely at Gabriel, whose expression must have betrayed something of which Gabriel was unaware, because Sam added, “Hey, it’s okay; I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be that freaked out. We got everything back in the end, when we - ” He hesitated for a second before concluding. “When we found the kids in the morgue.”

“In the … ah. I see. The rendezvous spot for illicit recreation.”

“Just enough to mortify their God-fearing parents, probably.”

“I’m sure Dad was plenty concerned with their antics. What about Castiel; is he all right? Did he get out?”

“He’s fine. Cas wasn’t hurt.”

“All right. Good to know I’m the only one who can’t look out for myself.”

Sam caught the bitterness in Gabriel’s voice. “Stop.”

“No, actually - ” Gabriel pushed himself up a little straighter. “Don't you want to know what kind of utopic frenzy that bastard cooked up for me?”

Sam was quiet. Then he replied, “Honestly, I kind of do.”

“Good. Because in the interest of science, I want to get it on the record that I can tell you the whole thing without breaking down. As a reward I’ll let myself take home that this didn’t all happen just because I’m brittler than fried seaweed.”

Sam looked pained. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I understand.”

“No, no, let me see - so I have it on the books - how far I can push myself before sacrificing my dignity to an inflamed maw of shitty memories. First, can I get Sigmund Freudchester’s opinion on something?”

“I … yeah, sure. What?”

“What does it say to you that the djinn made things so that I’d still been held prisoner by Asmodeus?”

Horror passed over Sam’s face. “You were with him? In Hell?”

“No, no, yuck, not with him; it had still happened to me, though, and you were the good egg who kept wasting fuel on the little engine that couldn’t. What’s your take on that? What do you think?”

Sam’s face had gone pale. “I don’t know, Gabriel.”

“Really? Well, I think I do.” There was something manic in Gabriel now, something he couldn’t control. He was, perhaps, a little angry, a little frantic, although he could not have said why. “It just confirms for me that if I had the opportunity to unwrite this script, to change what happened to me, to make it so that I had never been his favorite toy - ”

“You wouldn’t.” Sam looked horrified, but did not sound surprised.

“Exactly,” Gabriel told him. “Because I wasn’t meant to be treated any differently. Getting out of Hell was just a maggot turning into a fly. No real upgrade. And if I didn’t have the courage to actually wish that I was back where I was supposed to be, then I at least had the common decency to take some of what I deserved.”

“Gabriel, please don’t - ”

“I only knew for sure it was just tripe when you came out and said you’d never faced Lucifer. No - wait - you called him ‘Jack’s dad.’ As if you’d signed the adoption papers, bada-bing, bada-boom, the kid’s ours. And Jack - he was so damn innocent, nary a shit to give, just some happy little kid who made it clear how hardcore he loved his uncle. Because Uncle Gabe had the power of freaking kangaroos on hand, and - ”

“Stop.” Sam held up a hand. He seemed to have recovered a little. “You know what the djinn does, don’t you? You’re supposed to - to think that its world is better. You’re supposed to not want to get out.” He paused. “Um …”

“Go ahead,” Gabriel pressed. “You know how I got out.”

Sam looked at him. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

Unconsciously, Gabriel touched his stomach. The wound there was from where the monster had stolen blood. “Let’s just get this out of the way. I know you’re probably angry as Hell about it.”

That seemed to take Sam by surprise. “No! Well - I mean - if you still think about that sometimes; if you … if you can’t help …”

“It’s fine, Sam; I get it. Be pissed.”

“I’m not pissed. I … I mean … do you want me to be mad?”

“I don’t want anything from you, Sam; you do you.”

“Listen, I get that some days are better than others, and that sometimes you’re just not going to … you know …” Sam gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m just trying to say that I know you can’t control what goes through your head. It’s not your fault, that’s all. But I wish you could shake off this idea that you deserved what you got. And that you somehow have to - I don’t know - to make something up to us.”

“Sam,” Gabriel pleaded, “Jack got to hold a koala.”

Sam just laid a hand on his arm, waiting, perhaps, for Gabriel to say more.

“You have every right to be angry,” Gabriel said finally. “You know - you can be upset about the archangel blade. Because you do everything in your power to make me care about myself, and all I do is fight back.”

“Gabriel …” Sam kept his hand in place as he thought about how to respond. “I’m not mad. Really. I’m not. You used it to live. You could have been happy there, but you decided to come back. How could I be angry about that?”

Gabriel tensed. “Uh. I was more thinking along the lines of how easy it was to get to it. It was sitting there in a duffel bag, right where I could grab it in an emergency. You know, you never know when you might need to - to slice open a cantaloupe or …” He trailed off, then cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s the freedom of having the choice. You get that, right? Sort of?”

Sam nodded. “And you made a choice. Look at that.”

Gabriel shivered.

“You cold?” Sam asked.

“No,” Gabriel told him, “Just a wreck. Make a note in the spreadsheet for further evaluation later. This is proving to be an interesting experiment, wouldn’t you say?” He took a deep breath. “I can’t give you what you gave me, Sam. A home. Good memories. A feeling of safety. Somewhere to be afraid without getting hurt in the end. I can’t give that to you or Dean or Cas or Jack.”

“We don’t need those things from you.”

“You need them from someone, Sam, and I owe you at least that much.”

“You need to be - oh, hey - ” Sam withdrew his hand and used the blankets to help dry Gabriel’s face.

“Add it to the log,” Gabriel whispered. “I failed the experiment.”

“It’s okay to be upset. You know that. Crying is probably good for you.”

“You know what else is good for you? Bikram yoga. But it sucks and you look like a clown doing it.” Gabriel shuddered again. “You know - his hands, they felt like - they reminded me of - ”

“Whose hands? The djinn’s?”

“Yes.”

“What about them?”

“They felt like his. And I just - right then, when I felt him - ” Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and felt a tear trickle over his temple and into his ear. “Sorry - when I felt him, I thought of you. Not because it felt like how it feels when you’re with me, or when you touch me. Because it felt so different.”

“I could lie down with you, if you want.”

Gabriel didn’t answer, and kept his eyes closed. He felt Sam, who had learned to read Gabriel’s silence, recline next to him.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me about?” Sam asked.

Gabriel curled in on himself and cried.

He felt Sam pull him close. “You’re tired, Gabriel. You need some rest. Try and sleep, yeah?”

Gabriel didn’t respond.

“Sleep,” Sam repeated.

It sounded so different coming from him.

#supernatural #spn #fanfiction #fanfic #post-asmodeus sabriel feels #pasf #sam winchester #gabriel #sabriel #platonic #friendship #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #djinn #jack kline #castiel #dean winchester #comforting sam winchester #caring sam winchester #protective sam winchester #ptsd #post-traumatic stress disorder #gabriel has ptsd #asmodeus #gabriel lives #post-season 13 #gabriel has issues #gabriel needs a hug #scared gabriel #hurt gabriel

[marvxlousqueen]

Ben Hardy- Unexpected

A/N: so i got this idea from a request from a long time ago but i didnt do the request bc it was just too much so i changed it up a lil. i’m thinking this could be a two-parter if anyone wants to see that but if not i’m just gonna post this bc i think it’s decent :)

word count: lmaooo like almost 1000 words its short

warnings: future husband ben awe, bff lucy, pregnant!reader

summary: guess who finds out they’re pregnant the day before their wedding?? spoiler alert: its (y/n)

It was 7:00 in the morning, the day of the rehearsal dinner and (Y/n) was leaned over the hotel toilet, her stomach purging itself of its contents. Lucy pulled her hair back, keeping it out of her face as she threw up. 

“It’s okay, (Y/n).. you’re okay..” Lucy continued whispering comforting words to her, hoping it would easy her pain a little bit. 

(Y/n) sat back against the wall, wiping her mouth with a towel, breathing hard. Lucy’s eyes ran over her, taking in her best friend with a worried expression.

“(Y/n), could you be pr-”

“No! No no no, I’m definitely not pregnant, Ben and I use protection everytime because we know we aren’t ready for a family. It’s just nerves... I mean, getting married is a big deal!”

Lucy gave her a small nod, forcing a smile onto her face. 

“What?” (Y/n)’s eyebrows were raised, frustrated that her friend wasn’t believing her. 

Lucy let out a deep breath, “I know you, (Y/n). I’ve known you forever and you don’t get this nervous, especially not about something I know you are so excited for.” Lucy took a seat next to (Y/n), patting her back, “I think you know what this means..”

(Y/n) shook her head, eyes tearing up. “N-no, no Lucy, I can’t be- oh fuck, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Buy a test, I’m sure they sell them in the lobby store, then take it and see and if you are, you need to tell Ben.”

(Y/n) tried to steady her breathing in hopes to look more presentable. “Can’t you go buy it for me?”

Lucy shook her head, “I’m already late to pick up my bridesmaids dress, I really need to go, but call me as soon as you know, okay?”

(Y/n) nodded, washing her face as Lucy rushed out of the hotel to get her dress. After looking slightly more presentable, (Y/n) left the room her and Lucy would be sharing until after the wedding (since Ben and her decided it would be easier to not see each other before the wedding if they were in separate rooms). She took the elevator down to the lobby, stepping out and rushing to the store section. 

As she sped down the hallway, she accidentally collided with a familiar figure. Joe almost fell to the ground, luckily Ben was behind him to help him up. 

“Hey love, what’s the rush?” Ben was smiling big at her. He had been more happy than he thought possible these last few days. The thought of (Y/n) being his wife, being his, it had him ecstatic. He never thought a beautiful girl like (Y/n) would give him the time of day, let alone actually want to marry him. 

“Nothing! Just.. looking for a snack.”

Joe pulled out a bag of sour patch kids from his pocket, “I have snacks! Want some?”

(Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, “Why?”

Ben answered, “Joe and I are going down to the beach, Gwil is going to meet us down there and Rami.. Rami is somewhere.”

Joe opened his half full mouth, “He’s busy dealing with bachelor party things.”

(Y/n) laughed, almost able to forget how stressed she was by just being around the people she loved, “Isn’t that your job Mr. best man?”

“Mr. best man is taking a break, plus Ben said we are all his best men so it’s their turn anyways.”

(Y/n) nodded, stepping closer to the store, hoping to sneak away and buy a pregnancy test. 

“Well, you guys have fun! I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner.”

Ben leaned forward, kissing her cheek, “I’ll see you later love, but now I need to go celebrate my last night of freedom!” 

She knew he was joking, he was definitely joking. (Y/n) remembered the hours they had stayed up talking after they got engaged, about how excited they both were and how much they loved each other. She knew it was a joke, she knew Ben wanted to marry her, but with everything going on with her potential pregnancy, she couldn’t see it that way. 

Tears began to form in her eyes, she choked out a fake laugh, running into the store and Ben and Joe left the hotel and headed for the beach. After purchasing a pregnancy test, (Y/n) rushed up the stairs to her room and slammed the door behind. 

After peeing on the stick, she sat it on the counter, nervously pacing the room as she waited. 

(Y/n) slowly walked back into the bathroom after a few minutes had passed. With her eyes half closed out of nervousness, she picked up the stick, looking at it. 

Two lines. 

Two lines means pregnant.

She almost fell to the floor, eyes tearing up. Her throat tightened, she felt like she was going to pass out. 

Ben won’t want this, she thought to herself. He doesn’t want a kid just when his career is really taking off. Ben won’t want me. 

She shakely walked back to the bed, grabbing her phone and calling Lucy. 

“Hey, (Y/n), did you-”

“I’m pregnant.”

“That’s great! I’m so happy for you!”

(Y/n) threw herself on the bed, tears streaming down her face. “No, no it’s not, Ben, he-” Lucy couldn’t make out everything she was saying through the sobs coming from her.

“Hey, hey, listen to me, (Y/n). Seriously, Ben will love this for the two of you. He loves you so much and I’m sure he would love to start a family with you, who cares if it’s a little unexpected, right?”

taglist: (hmu to be added!!) @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @billyhargovesgurl @babebenhardy @rexorangecouny @cyndagoaway @killcomet @mcrmarvelloki

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #pregnant!reader #joe mazzello #rami malek #gwilym lee #unexpected

[barfzal]

I hate the bruins but charlie coyle is an exception and I had a thought about him being moody bc you keep teasing him while you were out until he finally takes you home bc he can’t stand it and why did i do that

okay so i don’t want to totally rip on the bruins here, but i have to agree that i pretty much love charlie coyle and brandon carlo exclusively. but coyle doesn’t really strike me as the type to get moody, but more frustrated with your teasing 

and after a bout of teasing him at the booth with his friends and teammates, you feign disinterest, and tell him that you’re going to the bar to get another drink

but when you get up, your head is light and your cheeks are warm from the subtle teasing that was starting to get to you too

and with your elbows on the bar, you wait for the cocktail you just ordered when you feel hands come through the space between your hips and the edge of the bar, and you’re about to tell some creep to back off when you inhale his cologne 

charlie is pulling you back into his chest, and it’s a familiar warmth 

and his lips are at the edge of your ear, kissing over it while you feel the firmness of his cock through his pants 

“you are so in for it when we get home” he mumbles into your ear, even his tone coming across as intimidating over the loud bass of the music 

the rest of the night, you anxiously sip on your cocktail, yawning in at around midnight, already eager to get your promised treatment 

once in the uber, charlie would look up cautiously to the driver before his hand slips under your dress, and slides under your panties to rub your mound over with four of his fingertips 

two of his fingers would curl into you, and your head would fall to his shoulder while you try desperately to choke down your moans, and the driver assumes you’re dozing off on your boyfriend’s shoulder 

when you finally get to the apartment, charlie has you on the edge of an orgasm, and he cruelly pulls his fingers away from you 

your tensed muscles pulsing now and you let out a soft whine that makes him smirk, and he thanks the driver before taking you by the hand and guiding you into the lobby 

once you’re both in the elevator, his hands roughly yank up your dress to your hips, and he slaps you harshly on the ass, making you whimper 

“come here” he mumbles while turning you over so he can see your ass, and he slaps over the red mark already forming again

and part of the pain brings a slow smile to your face, and charlie takes note of the twisted pleasure you got out of being treated like that 

“you need to learn some manners when we go out with my friends” he murmurs with a smile as his fingers come over your throat from behind

he’ll squeeze your throat gently while gripping a firm handful of your ass and jiggling it lightly before slapping the other cheek 

you hear the elevator ding, and you hurriedly shove your dress back down over your burning ass, and follow him into your apartment 

anyways this is getting long, but he’ll for sure teach you to be a good girl when that door closes behind you

also maybe i should make this into a full thing when i write my coyle piece because oof!! 

friendly reminder: pretty pls don’t send in anymore requests!! i’m just finishing up the ones from my asks. ily. :)

#i need to file this away #i'm definitely using this when i write the coyle piece #charlie coyle #rambles #rambles: charlie coyle #asks

[alien-origins]

ok so I haven't been feeling that the arrangement/relationship was giving much bc it was a purely sexual thing and I was getting bored and low key disgusted.

and like when we met we both agreed for this to be no strings attached bc neither wanted a gf/bf. however I noticed like a year in he was catching feelings because he said "would you like to be exclusive?" and I asked what he meant and he said "that we only have sex with each other" and I said that I didn't know.

cut to like a few months later my sex drive goes down and I don't want to meet up bc it's just for sex and I tell him I'm not really wanting to do anything and he's like "oh but we can hang out still", but hanging out with him is literally sitting in his bed playing video games which isn't interesting or fun for me or watching a movie and have him dry hump me and tell me he wants me to which I get annoyed at because I EXPLICITLY said I didn't want to do anything.

and I also need to mention other things that annoyed me with him. every time in the morning I wanted to leave I always had to like come up with something like a "plan" so I had somewhere else to be and couldn't stay because dude I want to enjoy my weekend. and every time I was like "well o gotta go" and he said "it only takes 6 minutes to the train from here" but like I have smaller legs than you, want to have an extra 5 min in case and I HAVE ANXIETY which I've told him so I need extra time or I'll literally panic. so I almost missed the train several times because he would sometimes refuse to let me get up from bed and I was clearly annoyed at him like this isn't funny and idk why he thinks I'd want to miss my train bc then I'd have to wait 30 min for my bus.

time management. I'm the person that gets to class 20 min early. Gets up 2-3h before I need to leave the house and make sure I have n extra 20-30 min of I'm going to find a new place. this dude was more of a "few seconds before" type of person which gave me anxiety and just felt disrespectful of my time when HE decided time and then never managed to meet me in time. even if 90% of the time he just had to walk down to the lobby door of his apartment to get me on he'd be 10-15 min late.

however I think what was the breaking point for my tolerance was when we decided to watch captain marvel in theatres. I said I'd like to eat before and he was like "sounds good, the movie starts 21.30 so we can meet 20.35 and eat" and I'm like, weird time but okay. and I arrive 10 min early to the mall we're gonna eat at (where they also have the theatre) and I tell him I'm there. 20-30min later I get a text that says "I'll be a little late" and I'm like okaybim in the lobby. he comes through the doors 20 minutes before the movie starts and then is like "so what do you want to eat?" and I say "do we really have time for that" I'm annoyance and he's like sure we do and I'm like....sure....so we have Lebanese food but I can't eat quickly because of my anxiety and past ed so I eat half and put the rest of the shworma in my bag for later. then he wanted to go to another store to buy drinks with like 3 min left until it started. RIGHT OMG when we got there FORTY MINUTES LATE he wants to go say hi to a friend who works in a store there LIKE???!!???????

and onto kinks. he noticed me posting pics of kris wu sometimes going "omg daddy choke me😩😩" as we know I do, and he's like "you're into that?" and I'm like yea, thinking about choking. and then he asks about what I mean with daddy and I explain that's like "he's hot" it's a term used for hot men and he's like "you can call me daddy😏". and me, who only have like 5 names on my daddy list is laughing internally but I'm like whatever, sure.

next time I get to his house he asks me to call him daddy mid sex and I'm like ok??? and I do and there was nothing more to it. like 2-3 times later he goes full dd/lg and oh my gOd was it disturbing. he said stuff like "cum for daddy", "you have to keep quiet or your mom will hear" etc. and I said I didn't like talking during sex prior to this AAAAAND I TOLD HIM ABOUT MY VERY BAD RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAD so this made me nauseous and I told him I didn't like talking like that during sex. i don't even remember his response but he did it like 2-3 more times before he stopped but like omg I felt so uncomfortable. he kept asking what kinks I had and I said I enjoy hair pulling, choking, being restrained and roughhoused but idk why he translated it into dd/lg.

I had told him vulnerable things about myself that he didn't understand like my anxiety, issues with my period pain, my relationship with my dad and some things about sugar babying. and he really thought he could fix all these things.

third thing. he sent me links to oils, meditation methods and other "natural" ways of getting rid of period pains. and I tell him thank you but if this worked I'd know already. and he's like "but it works for some" and I'm like I'm not saying it isn't, it's just the fact that I almost got immune to strong pain killers specifically made for cramps so rubbing some lavender oil on my vulva won't do shit boy.

fourth. I get that he was probably trying to be nice and give me compliments and I told him I was insecure about my tits because they're not that big. they're a size AA and A on food days I guess. but he said every time that my boobs had gotten bigger like, I'd have a F cup at this point if they actually were getting bigger and he noticed it every time. then however he started saying "your ass had gotten bigger" and it made me feel so selfcouncious. he KNEW about my ed and he KNEW I was still having issues with it so I don't understand why that comment was necessary???? I spiraled after hearing those comments and almost started dieting and skipping meals again because of those comments. and I know it's in and hot to have a big ass rn but o don't want one, love em on other people but I don't want one bc o feelnotd be disproportionate with my small chest and I already feel so uncomfortable sometimes with not being curvy and like it messes me up ......

and just being treated like a sex object in general. sure it was a sexual arrangement, but some respect please.....he would call me sexy even though I said I didn't like that comment bc I didn't see myself as sexy and didn't think it described me well (plus I look younger than I am so it makes me kind of uncomfortable). and saying only things about my body and how hot and sexy I am and it didn't make me feel good. ever. I don't think he ever complimented me on anything else but looks and it gets very boring after a while.

the end of it. as we know I'm in Korea rn studying and he knew this since months back and we hadn't talked since my bday in February and I avoided sc bc we almost only talked there but then I posted something and he replies around July/August and never stops writing even though I don't reply for 1-4 days. immature of me maybe but I was working a lot and didn't even think of replying bc it gave me anxiety to talk to him at this point.

then September. it's 1 month left until I leave and I have a LOT to fix before going and friends to say bye to. he says "can we meet this weekend" and I tell him I work weekends and I have other things to do almost every weekend up to when I leave and idk if I'll have time. he kept pushing again and again and I told him I didn't have time. then like a week left and he asks me to come over tonight and he knows I need to know these things I'm advance or I don't do it bc I'm not an impulsive person. and I tell him "honestly I don't think I will have the time to see you before I leave. I want to say bye to my close friends and my family" and he's like "wouldvevliked to see you one time before you leave though ://" butbi don't reply.

I talk to a few friends and they tell me to break it off but I only did it last week and BOY. I sent him a message on fb saying that I'm sorry but I don't think this kind of relationship works for me anymore, I'm not interested in it and won't be when I come back either probably and I say that I hope he understands. and he just replies "what kind of relationship is this?" and I say fwb at best. and he's like. .....well...I was hoping for more but I could sense you didn't want it.

LIKE!!!!!WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME SO WE BOTH DIDNT WASTE TIME OMG. LIKE HES AN ADULT. A FULL BLOWN ADULT. HES TURNING 30 NEXT YEAR.

but I tell him yea no I was never looking for that and we agreed on nothing more. and he's like "too bad liked your vibe" and I laughed out loud bc omg that's hilarious!!!! also fuck you. and I say sorry again and that I'm not looking for anything at all and he asks "why?" this dude has the audacity to ask WHY I don't want to suck his dick and I'm trying to be nice about it but I said "do I need more of an explanation than that I don't want to?" and he's like no, but hmu if you change your mind. he also said he wasn't looking for a normal relationship, he wanted something between fwb and a real relationship whatever that means and like ugh I'm so tired....

In conclusion I hate men and I removed him from sc and fb.

#looooooong post #rant #if you eant some tea on my fuckbuddy

[nadiineross]

idk if you are still looking for prompts but I just thought of this one, so here you go: Nadine and Chloe are attending a party and have to arrive separately for some thief-y reason, and when Chloe sees Nadine walking in wearing a dapper ass bespoke suit she like, chokes on her champagne because holy shit soft butch Nadine?? Is so so hot??? Even if you can’t write it I just had to get that idea out into the world. Thx for listening!

listen……….. i actually have a wip thats set pre-tll from a year ago abt chloe meeting nadine at a fancy event and dying bc nadine looks So Good in her suit but i dunno where im gonna go with that so i just wrote a new thing so here u go:

Chloe would take mucking about in old ruins, dressed in a tattered old shirt and jeans, over attending a stuffy party in clothes that cost more than the rest of her wardrobe combined any day of the week.

She didn’t hate dressing up, she was actually rather good at it honestly, but she was the type of woman accustomed to tactile boots, ratty jeans, and heavy leather jackets. Still, she knew how to have her fun.

She took a certain joy out of shocking people in ways other than throwing a grenade at them — she’d done it with Nate when they first met, when she saved his arse not a day after kicking it, and even that first time with Flynn, before that whole Shambhala mess. (The times where she’d surprised him out of necessity didn’t count.)

The bottom line: she was bored, she looked amazing, and people were staring.

It was a corporate dinner party hosted in the biggest hall offered by the most expensive five-star hotel in England. This meant there were a lot of older white men milling around to impress which wasn’t what Chloe would call hard.

Her hair was twisted and pinned into an elaborate updo that had taken her an hour to finish. The dress she wore was burgundy and off-the-shoulder, scooping to reveal three-quarters of her wiry back. Fabric wound across her chest, exposing her collarbones, and around both her biceps. Button-sized red gems hung by intricate golden hooks from her ears, accompanied by less elaborate yet equally shiny jewellery through her second lobe piercings and her helix. In her nose, she had a single gold hoop. Her clutch was small and simple, and only contained her phone and some cash.

And, of course, she arrived barely under an hour late just to make a scene.

She’d made a beeline for the bar upon arriving and hadn’t moved an inch for the hour that she’d been there. Men and women alike had ventured near to brush by her elbows and many had attempted to strike a conversation with her, and the ones that were polite or interesting enough, she entertained.

A man, hair streaked with grey, eyed her from across the room. She fought not to roll her eyes and turned back to the bartender when she failed so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s the time, mate?” she asked, leaning over the table on her arms.

The bartender glanced at her watch. “Almost eight,” she said, topping off her glass of champagne.

Chloe sighed.

She knew Nadine had said she might be late, but two hours was just ridiculous.

They’d been together as partners for two years now and for half that time, they’ve been together as, well, whatever you called two people who flew around the world to find some treasure and then fucked wildly in a hotel room and departed again until the next time.

This time, they had been apart for almost a month and Chloe had been getting a little antsy in Nadine’s absence. She’d been scrambling to come up with jobs in an attempt to meet her again but Nadine had blocked them all with valid reason.

Finally, she found one with a good enough payoff to danger ratio that Nadine could not refuse: they were to find an architect who was under the employment of a filthy rich collector named Gregory Scripps and with the help of the floor plan of his home, they would rob him blind.

The architect, Cole Sanders, just so happened to be under contract with one of the big corporations sponsoring the event tonight. Scripps had been invited, his brother being an executive at the company that had hired Sanders.

Chloe’s part of the job was to get a general idea of what Scripps would have locked up in his to-be-constructed fortress of a home as well as nicking Sanders’ room card off of him so Nadine could sneak in to his room and steal the plans.

The woman in question was, evidently, feeling a bit sore about Chloe leaving her to wait in a war zone when they’d first met and was dishing out some revenge.

She knew for a fact Nadine’s plane from Johannesburg had landed barely a half hour after her’s from Darwin and Chloe had spent a good hour in her hotel room scrolling through her phone. She didn’t know what Nadine was getting up to in her free time, but she decided that there would be a stern exchange of words when she decided to actually show up.

Within the hour, she’d already talked to Scripps, the slimy bloke he was, and had formed a long list of things she’d have to steal from him just to patch her soul up after spending that time in his company.

And Nadine? Nowhere to be—

“Whoa,” the bartender gaped, eyes wide.

Chloe turned just to see what the racket was about, taking a slow sip of her champagne to seem uninterested.

Then, gracefully, like the refined woman she was, she choked and sputtered and nearly dribbled.

Nadine arrived, guarded eyes already boring into Chloe’s from across the room.

“Holy shit,” she wheezed, a napkin balled up in her fist.

Nadine was dressed in a three-piece suit, probably bespoke.

The bottom layer was a pale blue dress shirt, almost white if one didn’t pay close enough attention, and was buttoned up to the top until the stiff collars wrapped around the base of Nadine’s throat. Over it was a crisp black pinstriped vest, joined in the middle by three shiny buttons. The trousers and blazer were well-fitted to Nadine’s figure and similarly black and striped. The lapels of her suit were carefully cut and the material of her suit folding in ways that looked too deliberate to count as wrinkles, the shoulders sloping.

Her hair was untied, the curls and frizzes brushing the shoulders of her suit and tickling against her neck where the top of her scar was, the rest disappearing under the collar of her shirt. Her hair was a bit longer than the last time Chloe had seen her.

As Nadine approached, Chloe noticed that the suit wasn’t black, instead, it was a very dark grey, and that she wore a silver watch on one wrist and a plain silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand.

Chloe’s eyes didn’t know where to stay, so they just continued sweeping up and down Nadine’s body.

When Nadine stopped a step away, Chloe settled on her eyes, ringed with simple eyeliner.

“You’re late,” Chloe said, voice coming out raspier than she intended. She didn’t have the nerve to attempt another swig from her champagne.

“I took the long way,” she said, eyes flickering away from Chloe’s face to her dress, then back up. She swallowed. “You look… beautiful.”

Chloe would have blushed if she were the type. She pushed herself up to her feet, off the bar, and looked curiously at Nadine. “When did you get this?”

Nadine raised her eyebrow, head tilting ever so slightly. Chloe felt herself get a little wet—correction: a little wetter.

She reached out and hooked a finger under Nadine’s lapel, dragging the finger down to the top of her breast. “The suit. When did you get it?”

“Oh,” she said, looking down to where Chloe had her suit held in her hand, her thumb rubbing circles into the material. “This is old. You said we should dress to impress.”

“I know what I said,” Chloe scoffed, incredulous. “I’m dressed to impress. You are dressed to bloody murder me.”

Nadine laughed and pushed closer so Chloe had to move back into the table, the edge cold against her skin. She was shorter right now, her polished brown shoes incomparable to Chloe’s heels, but the air of authority that came with the outfit made Chloe want to bend over backwards for her.

Chloe figured she would do just about anything to and for Nadine right about now.

Nadine held a hand out in the space between them and smirked wider when Chloe took it immediately. The ring on Nadine’s finger pressed against Chloe’s hand.

“This isn’t a dancing kind of party, love,” Chloe said, allowing herself to be led into the crowd. “We could be doing something else tonight though.”

“We’re mingling. What else is there to do?”

Chloe scowled and yanked her around before she let go entirely. “What do you think?”

Nadine gave her a cursory glance before turning back to people watching over Chloe’s shoulder. “Where’s Scripps?”

“I spoke to him already,” Chloe said after a moment. If Nadine didn’t want to talk about whatever they were doing, then she wouldn’t press. She didn’t exactly know how fragile they were and wasn’t about to accidentally break it off by forcing a discussion.

“Hm.” Nadine twisted her lips in thought. Chloe resisted the urge to wrap a hand around the back of Nadine’s neck and drag her in for a kiss. “And Sanders?”

“Your eight.”

Nadine turned them towards him with a firm hand on Chloe’s bare skin. Once she saw Sanders, they moved closer to him and then bypassed him entirely only a moment later. Without stopping, Nadine led them towards the elevators near the lobby.

“I’ll go,” Chloe said. “I’m tired of those corporate types.”

“Are you sure?”

Chloe rolled her eyes and waved the key card she’d slipped from Sanders’ pocket between her index and middle finger. “I’ve gotten this far without your help.”

The elevator arrived before Nadine could say anything smart in response.

Chloe made it quick; up to the seventh floor, into his room, and back down, the picture of the Scripps mansion layouts in her camera roll. She’d even gotten quick snaps of Sanders’ other jobs in case they were ever in a tight spot and needed a rich home or two to rob.

She shot off a quick text to Nadine, not waiting for a reply before she tucked her phone back into her purse.

Nadine was waiting for her when the elevator door opened, her blazer hanging over her shoulder, showing off her wonderfully bulging forearms from the bottoms of her folded sleeves. She jerked her head to the bathrooms.

When they were inside, Chloe moved to the sinks in the guise of touching up her lipstick while Nadine bent to look under the stalls. Empty.

She stood behind Chloe, close enough for Chloe to feel the top of her blazer brush against her back.

Chloe moved her head to the side, looking down at her own shoulder, then, to spy Nadine out the corner of her eye. “Yes?”

“Did you get it?”

Chloe rolled her eyes and shook her clutch in the air. “Yes, you doubt me?”

Nadine took it and pocketed it into her blazer, smiling. “Never.”

“Liar.”

“Makes two, hey.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Chloe. “I’ve never lied to anyone about anything ever in my life.”

Nadine snorted and reached up to rake her fingers through her hair, moving it one way, then the other.

Chloe turned suddenly. She pulled Nadine’s arm away from her own head and gripped tightly, walking them into the wall by the stalls. She used her other hand to cup Nadine’s cheek, and then she kissed her, hard and open-mouthed.

Nadine’s lips were parted and curved into a smile. She placed a warm hand on the curve of Chloe’s lower back, her thumb pushing into the skin just above her dress.

When they pulled apart, Chloe sucked in a breath and grinned. Nadine just opened her eyes and smiled back, one hand on Chloe, the other in the pocket of her trousers. Chloe wanted to laugh at the whole thing.

“Hello,” she whispered, pecking the corner of Nadine’s mouth.

“Hi.”

“How was this past month?”

“Good.”

“In the mood for single word replies, are you?” Chloe asked. Nadine looked amused at that. “I can see—feel—that you’ve been working out.”

She gave Nadine’s arm a squeeze. Nadine hummed. “Ja.” A beat. “Nice to have work to do though.”

Chloe placed both her hands on Nadine’s front, deftly working the top three buttons so she could touch Nadine’s bare chest, and leaned in. “Did you miss it?”

Nadine watched her, carefully. Then, tentatively, she stilled Chloe’s hands over her scar and gripped them gently.

“I missed you.”

Instantly, Chloe grinned and curved her fingers around Nadine’s. “Oh god, me too.” She kissed Nadine again, relieved. “Meet me outside? I have a key card to return.”

Nadine huffed a laugh when Chloe took her blazer to drape around herself and nodded her assent.

It was November at the moment, the night air harsh and frigid enough to pull a faint mist from Nadine’s mouth every time she breathed out. Chloe stared at her for a moment after she had slipped the card back into Sanders’ pocket and entered the lobby in search of Nadine.

The sleeves of her dress shirt were rolled back down to her wrists and her vest was buttoned properly up. The shirt was still left open, the collar jutting out from the smoothness of her vest. It gave her a sharper look, her profile cutting into lines and obtuse angles. Her hands were in her pockets, examining her shoes as she rolled on the balls of her feet.

She looked vaguely like a teenager waiting outside for their date to the prom, gathering the nerve to actually knock on the door.

It was then that she looked up, catching Chloe through the glinting windows, and she smiled softly with no teeth. Chloe’s heart sped up and she twiddled her fingers in a wave, joining her outside a second later. She returned Nadine’s blazer, having gotten her own coat back from coat check earlier.

Nadine offered her an arm to take, leaving her blazer unbuttoned.

The walk to Chloe’s hotel started silently, apart from the occasional car speeding by. There was a bridge they had to cross, but Chloe stopped in the middle and looked out over the river.

“Nadine.”

“Yes.”

Chloe inhaled sharply and steeled herself, and very slowly she turned with her arms held out. They weren’t too high, because Chloe felt a bit embarrassed about this to begin with, but they were high enough to look awkward if nothing happened.

Nadine wound her arms around Chloe’s middle, thank god for that. Chloe slung her own around Nadine’s neck and sighed into her hair. She was engulfed in warmth and she didn’t want to leave it.

“Can you stay in London a bit longer?” Chloe asked. “I missed you.”

She felt Nadine nod against her. Then: “We should talk. About this, I mean.”

“We will.”

“Okay.”

Chloe pulled away. “Okay,” she replied and pressed a kiss to Nadine’s cheek. “Let’s get going then. A warm and empty hotel room is waiting for us.”

“Of course.” Nadine laughed and once again gave her an arm to grab onto.

This whole dapper gentlewoman thing, well, Chloe would miss it sorely when she inevitably stripped it off Nadine later. For now, she was going to indulge herself.

#chlodine #chlodinefics #nadine....... a whole stud.......... #auntiope-3000 #ask

[its-love-u-asshole]

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 2]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over as always! This fic continues to be a lot of fun to write so I hope it shows lol. Enjoy! 

AO3

From that point forward, Kuroo made sure to get his ass out of bed at the same exact time everyday. Even when he had no classes to speak of, he got up and left the safety of his home, just to go get his mail.

His phone would chime, and he'd silence it instantly, springing out from under his comforter to force on acceptable attire (sweats). He'd fumble and curse, and depending on the day Oikawa would yell at him to shut up from the room next door, but it hardly mattered. He would blink the tiredness out of his eyes, scurry out the door and knock into a few walls in the process (hey, he'd just woken up okay?), and then chose to take the stairs to the lobby floor because the elevator just took too damn long.

All to make it to the dimly lit corridor where a certain blond stood, regal and reserved as ever.

This part never had a plan.

Dammit.

Today was the fourth day of his dumbass new routine, and yet he still found his breath taken away by the sight of the blond staring at him like he had some sort of disease.

Tsukishima. Tsukki, as Kuroo had been fondly calling him in his daydreams.

Even with such a disinterested face, he looked like some sort of model.

"...Hey." He practically squeezed the word out, given his lungs were still a bit winded from the sudden exercise. He leaned against a row of mailboxes, trying to keep his breathing from sounding too loud.

Yeah man, just act cool. You're the fuckin' coolest.

The blond looked him up and down, scrutinizing every detail in a way that made Kuroo feel like he was being graded on something, until he finally spoke up. "Did you run all the way down here just to tell me that?"

Fuck.

"Maybe." Welp, there goes trying to lie. What was wrong with him lately? It was like he didn't know how to talk anymore when it came to Tsukishima. Kuroo was a damn artist with words, for crying out loud. His puns spoke for themselves really, but more evidence existed.

Tsukishima's eyes widened at the straightforward admission, but soon they were crinkling in amusement which made all of Kuroo's embarrassment worth it.

"You're weird, and you obviously need to go back to the bed," Tsukishima continued, wrapping his arms around the books he'd been carrying. Huh, I wonder if he does that when he's nervous. Kuroo had started to notice it on day two, but it hadn't gotten any less endearing.

"What was it this time? Exam prep until two in the morning?" Tsukishima asked, seeing as it was midterm season.

Ha.

"Video games until four," Kuroo said smugly, like he was oh so proud. It got another snort out of the blond. God, it was music to his ears.

"How studious."

"I know right? Don't you wish you were me?"

"Mmm," Tsukishima started to hum, and Kuroo willed himself not to take the sound and let his imagination run wild with it. He did not need to pop a boner right now.

Then Tsukishima was pointing at his head, unaware of Kuroo's less than decent thoughts. "No, because then I'd have to deal with that rat's nest you call hair."

"What?" Kuroo made a choked noise, stumbling back as if he'd been punched, and Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "Evil and rude."

"Well, it wouldn't be like that if you actually took care of it when you woke up," Tsukishima deadpanned. "Or it wouldn't look as bad at least."

Ouch, nail on the head.

Kuroo had hardly glanced at his appearance apart from his clothes this morning, too preoccupied with making it downstairs in time to see the blond who'd been strangely taking over his thoughts. Their first meeting hadn't exactly been ideal, but Kuroo truly did want to know more about the blond. He was reserved, but his sense of humor definitely existed, and Kuroo definitely liked it. Bad singing aside, Tsukishima's voice was calming, pleasant even. Not to mention he was gorgeous, but that was a given.

Even with those qualities alone, Kuroo felt drawn to him, and yet they weren't nearly enough to completely justify his attraction. Having a small crush was one thing, but Kuroo wanted to talk to Tsukishima and find out even more before acknowledging that he was completely taken by the other.

So...fuck it?

Kuroo always did believe honesty was the best policy.

"Yeah well, taming my hair to an at least semi-acceptable state takes around...eh...ten minutes?" Kuroo began, talking about it like it was one of his many science experiments. And really it might as well have been. He tested and timed himself enough times, back when he'd actually had hope for his unruly hair to sit flat.

Tsukishima brought a hand up to his mouth, concealing a smile which Kuroo had to restrain himself from beaming about. It was a nice distraction at least, putting his effort into that instead of focusing on his own heartbeat.

Ah well, here goes nothing.

"But uh, if I wasted time doing that I wouldn't make it down here in time to talk to you...so...yeah."

The silence was intense enough that Kuroo could hear the leaking pipes dripping, could hear a door slam on the floor above them. Basically, it was awful, but he held his ground. And oh, how he was grateful he had.

Tsukishima's cheeks lit up like Christmas lights, the red hue soft and noticeable regardless of the dim lighting of the hallway. Kuroo felt his lungs deflate as he forced himself to let out the breath he'd been holding, because he needed more oxygen asap.

But he wasn't totally out of the woods yet he supposed. Tsukishima's eyes flitted between Kuroo and the floor, his teeth nibbling at his lower lip (also unfair, Kuroo couldn't take this). He was searching for a response, and Kuroo didn't know if it was a good sign or not.

Maybe he'd been too upfront, as he tended to do. Shit.

Damage control. Damage control would be good. The last thing he wanted was for Tsukishima to be uncomfortable.

"Uh, what I mean is--"

"I don't think talking to someone in front of mailboxes is very traditional," the blond muttered, eyes staying glued to the floor.

Oh...

Kuroo felt a chill of anticipation flow down his spine, and his stomach churned from the nerves. But again, what was the point in lying now?

Be smooth dude.

"Then...would you like to talk to me somewhere else?" Kuroo asked, feeling suddenly hopeful. It wasn't like he had anything to lose here, other than his pride maybe. But it was worth it. The flush on Tsukishima's face and the stunned look from those honey brown eyes made it worth it.

The blond's grip on his books tightened, but he didn't brush Kuroo off, or turn away. He shrugged, as if uninterested, and began to stuff his mail into his bag. "Depends on where."

Kuroo couldn't list places fast enough. "We could go grab coffee, or go to the movies, or the mall, do you like the mall? I know some people hate it--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Bowling is always fun--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Or there's dinner, a classic really--"

"Kuroo-san." Tsukishima spoke firmly this time, enough to put an end to Kuroo's babbling at least, and the raven stared at him like a puppy waiting for a treat.

So much for being cool.

Tsukishima rubbed at the back of his neck, and Kuroo felt his heart seize a bit. Ah damn, that's not a good sign.

"I have a lot of studying to do, actually, so..." Tsukishima said, eyeing Kuroo curiously.

So, no can do.

He'd been too pushy yet again. Dammit.

Kuroo all but deflated. His shoulders sagged, and he willed his face not to show any disappointment as he registered the rejection. "Oh..well, some other time then I guess." Even he wanted to wince at how pitiful he sounded.

This shouldn't hurt as much as it did, he'd only just met Tsukishima. But it felt like he needed to down three tubs of ice cream regardless, just to soothe his wounds.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, the awkward tension around them still hanging in the air like a jerk. The universe hated Kuroo, obviously.

"Oh, yeah," Tsukishima said, turning away, and Kuroo perked up. He almost thought he saw the blond's body sag as well, his eyes seeming a little less bright than usual. Tsukishima wasn't exactly the most expressive person, so far anyways, but Kuroo knew that look on anyone. He could feel it in the air. Disappointment.

Wait--

Tsukishima gave an awkward wave, making his way towards the building's exit. "Well, I have to go to class. Bye--"

"Tsukki!" Kuroo let the nickname slip, but he didn't have time to be sheepish about it as he grabbed Tsukishima's arm. "What about the study rooms they have here? We can study together later, with breaks of course."

Breaks, as in breaks for talking.

A study date.

It would be his last effort. If Tsukishima turned this down, then he'd know for sure it was because the blond wanted nothing to do with him. But if his suspicions were correct...

If he wants me to keep trying, I'll keep trying.

Those piercing eyes widened, the brightness seeping back into them like a light show, and wow Kuroo was so fucking gay. "You--"

"Like a date, study date," Kuroo clarified, because he'd be damned if things got taken the wrong way. "If you want."

Please want to.

Kuroo realized he was still gripping the other a bit too intimately, and he let go with an apologetic smile. His hand burned, aching to feel the soft skin again. So not the time.

After a few more seconds, the doubt was threatening to invade his chest once more, but he wondered if the blond had done that one purpose. Because as soon as it started, Tsukishima, in all his stubborn, beautiful glory, fixed him with what was nothing less than a full on pout. "I guess. I'll be back from campus by five."

I'll meet you there, went unsaid, but Kuroo heard it loud and clear. What a tease.

But then again, Kuroo loved it.

He nodded, grin way too big for the hour of the morning, and watched as Tsukishima left, obviously late for class. Hopefully the blond thought it was worth it.

All he knew for sure was that he couldn't wait for the evening to come.

"See you then," Kuroo said, his dreamy tone echoing off the peeling walls, heard by no other soul.

--

"Are you humming?"

Bokuto's sudden entrance nearly made Tsukishima drop his watering can. He cursed as some of the water sloshed out, luckily onto the ground. These particular flowers were delicate, he didn't want to give them more water than necessary.

"Excuse me?" The blond wasn't exactly in the mood to talk, but he'd had Bokuto by his side since childhood, so his friend's loudness and constant chatter was something he'd grown pretty immune to.

"You were humming, like full on Disney princess humming," Bokuto went on, smirking in the doorway to the school's greenhouse. Tsukishima volunteered here because...well, gardening was rather calming, plus no one else was really lining up to upkeep the place. Therefore, it gave him a nice isolated place to sing other than his apartment.

Or, it was supposed to. Bokuto often visited in between his lectures, regardless of Tsukishima's threats to throw fertilizer at him if he did it more than twice a week.

"First off, I have no idea what that means," Tsukishima deadpanned, taking off his gloves. "Second, singing and humming is kind of what we do, remember?"

Bokuto pouted, but didn't give up, trudging forward until he was right beside the blond. "Yes, but you've been humming all day! Not just in private. You never do that," Bokuto said, playfully poking Tsukishima's side.

The blond wretched away irritably, focusing on potting the small plants in the nearby soil. "No, I haven't been," he snapped, and guilt coiled traitorously in his gut when Bokuto flinched.

"I haven't," he repeated, calmer this time as he continued his task. It was all Bokuto needed to perk up again, picking up where he left off.

Tsukishima should've let him sulk.

"Uh huh. In Music Theory you were humming during the quiz, all the guys were staring."

Tsukishima sputtered, eyes widening at the memory of hundreds of eyes on him as he'd walked out of discussion. "That's--"

"And then, you were singing under your breath after lunch, while you were going over your notes!" Bokuto pointed an accusatory finger right in his face, like he was unearthing some sort of conspiracy. "Three guys asked you out in the food court, and that was just before you managed to leave."

Oh right. Idiots. Why couldn't people just leave Tsukishima alone?

Because your voice is the vocal equivalent of an aphrodisiac. Right.

"That happens to both of us sometimes," Tsukishima tried, hoping Bokuto would drop it.

No such luck.

"Yeah but it's rare for you, especially that many times in one day! C'mon Tsukki...you were humming at the coffee shop too, the barista gave you free coffee!"

"He might've just been a terrible employee."

"Tsukki. You know what I'm getting at..."

"No." Tsukishima threw his tools down, pushing soil onto his pants, and his first thought was that now he'd have to go home and change before meeting Kuroo. Stupid.

"There's nothing to get at, stop being insufferable already," Tsukishima hissed, and Bokuto whined beside him.

"It's cute though! You're happy!" Bokuto threw his hands up, cheering, and Tsukishima felt he'd had enough. He began cleaning up at once, eager to move onto the next part of his day. He'd be early for his next class, but whatever. The longer he stayed, the more likely Bokuto was to find out about his study date, and that would make the other's excitement twenty times worse.

Tsukishima couldn't take the teasing. It would be payback for all the jabs and comments he'd made when they'd first met Akaashi.

Nope. No.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Tsukishima was getting a damn headache. The worst part was that they tended to do this quite often, a habit they'd forgotten to leave back in their childhood.

Besides, Bokuto was, as they say, full of absolute crap. Sure, it was rumored that a lot of a siren's mannerisms and habits could be traced back to their emotions, but Tsukishima had never busied himself with learning any of that garbage. It was more myth than anything. Sirens sang more when happy, less when upset, faster when angry, blah, blah, blah. There were no concrete facts, so Tsukishima refused to entertain the idea at all.

He didn't believe anything Bokuto said, and he was definitely not blushing.

And he didn't care either way that he had a date tonight. Not a bit.

With that, he shoved his friend out of the way as he pulled on his backpack, stomping out of the greenhouse and leaving Bokuto's dreadful laughter behind.

--

"Um...you're a..music...major? Wow, that's, uh, great!"

Tsukishima looked about two seconds away from slapping him, his eyes void of any life or amusement.

Kuroo smiled awkwardly as he leafed through his chemistry textbook, as if it would provide him all the answers as to why all of a sudden he was a huge fucking disgrace.

"Uh no, wait--"

"It's a surprise isn't it?" Tsukishima said softly, lips quirking up finally.

Okay, I didn't completely fuck up then.

Right?

"Huh?" Kuroo asked, pausing in his efforts to take out his pencil case.

"Because my singing is so awful," Tsukishima continued, his smile growing more and more. "Me being a music major is weird. Right?"

Well, yes. But--

"Is this a trick question?" Kuroo asked, putting his hands up. "I surrender if it is, last thing I want is to offend you."

The blond only laughed, a beautiful sound, waving him off as he too opened up his textbook. "No, I don't mind. I know I'm a bad singer, but I don't think it's necessary. I like what I study."

Kuroo's nerves settled again, and he chuckled lightly. Conversation was never boring with the blond it seemed, he was clever, and his tongue was sharp.

If Kuroo was being honest, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so attracted to someone, eager to hear whatever came out of their mouth.

"You're just a music major? I know a lot of people double when it comes to the art school," Kuroo asked, wishing they didn't actually have to study so he could ask his questions. How was he supposed to focus on formulas when there was an angel sitting across from him?

Ah shit. He was being cheesy in his thoughts too. He was a goner.

"Computer science too," Tsukishima shrugged. "It's practical and I'm good at it."

"You must be pretty smart then," Kuroo said, and he couldn't help the bit of fondness which leaked into his tone.

The blond tensed up immediately, flushing a bit as he scowled at his book. "I don't think I'm much better than everyone else in the major."

"Oh?" Kuroo couldn't help but smile. Tsukishima was far too humble. Music major or not, carrying two was no easy task, and from how extensive Tsukishima's notes seemed to be, there was no way he didn't do well in his classes.

Kuroo could see the neat handwriting, the gentle scrawl outlining important notes and major points to study, all color coded. Kuroo was no slouch himself when it came to school, but he was impressed all the same.

"Chemistry doesn't sound all that relaxing," Tsukishima said, and the look he sent Kuroo's way was nothing less than expectant.

Oh, he's trying to learn about me. That's so cute.

"Yeah but I've always had a knack for it," Kuroo said, proud as ever. It wasn't that he was arrogant about his intelligence per se, but he took a lot of satisfaction in being skilled at what he loved doing, and helping others learn it. "There's a lot of work, but I guess it'll be worth it in the end. I get crap for it sometimes but, no use listening to it."

"Mm," Tsukishima hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and it only fueled Kuroo's curiosity. "I guess that's well put..."

"Oho, a compliment?"

"Don't read too much into it," Tsukishima said with a click of his tongue, bouncing his pencil on Kuroo's textbook. "We're supposed to be studying remember."

Kuroo laughed, mildly disappointed their conversation had ended. But well, Kuroo planned on taking many, many breaks. So it was all good. "Yes sir."

Soon, they descended into their own quiet worlds, but it wasn't awkward. The gentle scratch of pencils on paper, accompanied with the turning of pages was actually quite comforting. It had been a while since Kuroo had studied with anyone, and while the blond could be distracting every now and again, he was covering a good amount of ground.

They had the small study room to themselves, given Midterm Panic™ probably wasn't for a few more days. Complete freedom, complete privacy. Kuroo had never felt more grateful. 

They were a few minutes past the one hour mark when Kuroo started to feel it though, and he was reminded of how working in the library had never worked for him in the past.

Too quiet. Much too quiet.

Kuroo had never done well with that. While he needed a certain degree of silence to focus, the total absence of background noise jarred him, drove him absolutely nuts. The constant buzz of nothing was making it harder to focus than had someone been chatting it up a few tables down.

Back in his first year, he'd learned he could only study in places where there was at least some degree of noise. Nothing extreme, maybe some whispers here or there, music playing through someone's headphones too loudly, or even the occasional footsteps as people paced the rows of the library. He needed something. The balcony had never been an issue because, well, simply being outside provided all the background noise he'd needed, without being overwhelming. Insects, people passing, cars driving, and whatever else.

Here he didn't have that though, and it was getting to him. Kuroo started clicking his pen profusely, and it still wasn't enough. Then came the foot tapping, then the knocking on the desk, all in an effort to create some kind of illusion that things weren't completely dead in the room.

"What's wrong?"

Apparently, Kuroo was being louder than he thought.

He met Tsukishima's confused stare, and once more, debated shrugging it off as nothing. But again, those eyes on him made him seem incapable of lying, even if he did want to. He sighed, smiling sheepishly.

"Ah, it's nothing. It's hard for me to focus sometimes without background noise," Kuroo explained, knowing it sounded sort of weird. "On the balcony I usually have all the sounds of nature and shit, so I kinda forgot it bothered me."

"Oh, Bokuto is like that too..."

"Hm?"

Tsukishima's eyes widened a bit, like he'd spoken without realizing, and the light flush which accompanied it was beyond appealing. "Nothing...my roommate is the same way. He listens to music when he studies. Well, if you could call all the procrastinating he does studying."

Kuroo chuckled. He didn't want to let the conversation die now that it had started. Tsukishima was actually sharing things about his life, and Kuroo drank in every single detail, wanting more. But of course, he had to say something.

To think the day would come where he dreaded being a chatterbox.

"Music is a little too distracting, I need like...ambient noise you know?"

"Do you want my headphones?" Tsukishima barely finished asking the question before he was tensing up, his lips shutting in record time.

Kuroo blinked, weirdly giddy about the offer. God, they were just headphones, not a wedding ring. "Uh, you don't mind?"

Again, Tsukishima looked taken aback, but he reached for his bag regardless. "Whatever, just don't break them. Can't believe this..."

Tsukishima's mutterings were amusing, as was the way he tried to seem annoyed at his own generosity. Weirdo.

"I'll guard them with my life." Kuroo saluted, but as soon as he saw the headphones, he almost didn't dare touch them.

They were nice, and that was an understatement. They were obviously top of the line, those large, noise canceling type headphones that actual singers used. They were sleek and silver, shining like they'd just come out of the box. They must've cost the blond a fortune, and Kuroo nearly refused them. It was like he wasn't worthy, as someone who normally bought the shitty gas station headphones.

"Problem?" Tsukishima asked, watching Kuroo intently.

"N-no, these are just super expensive! Thanks for letting me use 'em," Kuroo said, beaming as he connected them to his phone. Finding some noise app shouldn't be too tough...

Tsukishima blushed again, glaring at nothing in particular. "Whatever..."

Singing on his patio, studying music theory, and the best headphones on the market. Tsukishima hid his adoration well, but Kuroo knew how to read people, knew how to pick up on every single hint and clue. So really, Tsukishima actually wasn't hiding much. Or at least, Kuroo didn't think so. He didn't know much about Tsukishima yet, but he did know this, and it made him all the more enthralled.

"You must really like music huh?"

The comment had been a simple observation, but from the way Tsukishima's eyes brightened, his muscles relaxing almost against his will, Kuroo had said exactly the right thing.

Tsukishima shrugged weakly, unable to do much more, his features softening as he tried to hold in a smile. "I guess."

There was so much more held behind that answer, and Kuroo thought to hell with studying. He wanted Tsukishima to tell him everything, because there was no way the blond didn't have an opinion on it.

He set the headphones down on the table, no longer needing them, much to Tsukishima's confusion. He closed his textbook, and grinned from across the table at the blond's confusion riddled face.

Again, still pretty.

The questions ran through Kuroo's head, a force all their own. There were so many places he could start, it was hard to choose, but whatever, he would be there all night if he had to.

Best to just start simple.

"Do you have any favorite bands?"

--

They'd scheduled their study date for three hours. They were nearing the fifth.

"I can't believe you actually think that's a good movie, I can't associate with you now," Tsukishima said, blunt as ever. But no, Kuroo was not about to lose this debate.

"The effects were amazing! And we got all that backstory from the previous movie!"

"Not enough," Tsukishima insisted, using his book as a shield instead of reading any of the information inside of it. Kuroo thought maybe it was to keep the blond from slamming his hands on the table, like the raven had started to do.

Things were heated, alright?

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kuroo waited, ready to pick apart any number of points Tsukishima thought to bring up.

Kuroo didn't give a damn if he was being stubborn, he loved horror movies, especially ones of the alien sub genre.

Plus, this was incredibly fun. More fun than he'd had in a long time.

"They kept teasing us with random flashbacks that were twice as interesting as the actual movie's plot," Tsukishima said. "If they wanted to make a better film, they'd make a prequel instead of just giving us gore scenes for the sake of gore."

"What's wrong with gore?"

"Nothing, but without a storyline it just gets boring," Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes. The blond had been getting more and more expressive as their conversation continued, his voice growing louder and more exasperated as they debated. It was awesome. "And you can't seriously tell me you enjoyed the forced romance at the end."

Kuroo winced. Okay yeah, that was bad.

Tsukishima smiled, smug and victorious, and hell, Kuroo was ready to surrender just to make sure it didn't fall.

Ugh. Fine.

"Can we at least agree that it was better than the previous installment?"

Tsukishima pursed his lips, contemplative, before clicking his tongue in defeat. "Fine."

As if to signal the truce, Kuroo's phone lit up with a text from Oikawa, asking whether or not he'd been murdered.

How thoughtful.

He agreed about the lateness though. The sun had set long ago, and while it was nowhere near his usual bedtime, he didn't want to keep Tsukishima longer than he wanted. The blond obviously woke up way before Kuroo normally did. He'd have to ask about his class schedule sometime, if he found a way to be non-creepy about it.

"Guess we better pack it in before my roommate calls the police to report me missing," Kuroo said, pocketing his phone and joining Tsukishima in packing up his various untouched books. He'd gotten through one chapter, which was hardly enough, but oh well. He didn't regret slacking off.

After they'd gotten into the music conversation, Tsukishima had opened up. Not all at once of course, given he seemed like just a cautious person in general. But Kuroo knew what questions to ask, what responses to prod at, and soon he was trusted enough to make Tsukishima spill the goods.

First off, whether or not Tsukishima liked to admit it, the other didn't just like music. He straight out loved it. He had over six hundred songs on just his phone alone, and tons of knowledge about various artists and instruments at the drop of a hat. The trivia was interesting, but mostly it was attractive. Not the facts themselves, but the way Tsukishima's eyes flashed with recognition and concealed excitement every time Kuroo referenced a particular song or album.

If the saying was true, and people became ten times more beautiful when talking about things they were passionate about, then Tsukishima should've been illegally gorgeous.

And he was.

Talks about music, during which Kuroo had been recced several bands (thank you Tsukki), the conversation had bled into movie soundtracks, which led to favorite movies, which to favorite genres, and so forth.

Kuroo's throat protested somewhat from all the talking, dry and in desperate need of water. Tsukishima constantly cleared his throat as well, probably in the same boat. The other still seemed stunned, much like Kuroo, about how much they'd actually talked.

Kuroo was on cloud nine, and he only hoped Tsukishima felt the same way.

As if sensing the weird aura of joy Kuroo was no doubt giving off, Tsukishima looked up from where he was zipping up his bag, making eye contact. They'd been talking face to face for several hours, so it shouldn't have been a big deal, but Kuroo still felt a pleasant chill run through his body.

Yeah, you're a goner dude.

"Um, I'll walk you to your door." Kuroo stood, taking his own backpack as he handed Tsukishima his headphones.

The blond reached out to grab them, his hands landing awkwardly on the sides, close to where Kuroo had gripped them. Their fingertips brushed against each other barely, not even for two seconds, but it made Kuroo's night all the same.

Tsukishima nodded, hiding his face in his coat's collar. "Yeah, okay."

--

Tsukishima didn't know what the hell was wrong with him.

He'd talked more to Kuroo in the past six hours than he had the entire school year, at least to anyone but his friends. And he'd shared his stupid interests too...

Why had he done that?

Going on and on about his dumb songs on his phone and movie soundtracks, who cared about that kind of thing? Why did he care if anyone cared?

This is annoying.

And offering his headphones? His most prized possession? He hardly let those things out of his sight, much less out of his care. Giving them to someone else was essentially unheard of. Bokuto borrowed them once without asking and Tsukishima had eaten all the other's pop tarts in retaliation, carbs be damned. He hated pop tarts.

Fucking savage.

And yet he'd willingly handed them over to Kuroo without any kind of protest. Something was seriously wrong. Maybe he was getting sick...

Yet, as the elevator opened to his floor, he knew it wasn't the case. The rapid beating of his heart and the strange disappointment welling up inside him couldn't be blamed on the common cold.

He wasn't too fond of the alternative answer either, at least...not yet. Tsukishima kept telling himself Kuroo was still being tested, but he wasn't quite sure where he planned on drawing the line when it came to proof.

Kuroo followed him to his door, their steps being the only sound in the building. They'd been talking just fine all the way up, but now...

The silence was thick, the air around them charged in a way which made no sense. It had been a date technically, Tsukishima had agreed to it. What did people do after dates?

What did Tsukishima want?

He'd never been in this situation before, where a strange yearning kept building in his chest. A situation where something seemed to be missing, where there was an unknown next move begging to be taken.

He tried not to think about it as he dug out his house key. Maybe once he opened the door everything would fade away, though that didn't exactly feel right either.

Why did everything about this have to be so annoying? All because he'd decided to sing freely on his balcony one night...

Kuroo leaned against the hallway wall, watching him intently, his face giving nothing away for once. He was focused, almost terrifying so, on Tsukishima hands as they fished out the key ring.

An excited surge traveled through Tsukishima, making his skin heat up. He often hated being the center of attention, but Kuroo was starting to make him greedy.

And whatever, Tsukishima was fine being a brat, even if he didn't acknowledge the feelings behind it yet.

"See you later I guess," Tsukishima finally said, still debating on whether or not it was polite to thank Kuroo for a study date where they hadn't actually studied. Instead, he bit his lip and shoved his key into the slot.

"Next Friday," Kuroo said, and Tsukishima's hand froze as the lock clicked.

"Huh?"

"Go out with me next Friday, once midterms are over," Kuroo said, smiling in apology. "Since it's pretty obvious we can't study together."

Tsukishima, with no other real solution for how fast his heart was beating, resorted to his best skill. "You were the one who wouldn't shut up."

"Hey."

"Where?" Tsukishima asked, unable to contain the stupid question. He refused to admit he was eager, or even elated than Kuroo had asked him out again. The raven was just a chemistry nerd with bad jokes and worse hair, which somehow (probably through witchcraft) ended up looking attractive.

Ugh.

Kuroo, to put it lightly, looked baffled. "Oh, you want to go? Really? With me? Okay, uh..."

Tsukishima couldn't help but snort. "Did you not think this far ahead?"

"To be honest I'm pretty convinced I'm dreaming, so no," Kuroo sighed, his tone almost too dreamy to be taken seriously. Embarrassing. Who was this guy?

Although, I wouldn't be surprised if I was dreaming either.

Tsukishima tried not to flush from his own thoughts.

"Either way, you can still answer the question," the blond muttered, suddenly unsure of what to do and where to look. His hands were still on his keys and the door handle, frozen awkwardly and no doubt clammy as hell.

"Bowling?" Kuroo offered, his grin already growing.

"Bowling?" Tsukishima repeated, squinting a bit. It wasn't a bad idea, just a bit non-traditional, not to mention random. "Why?"

"First off, because it's fun," Kuroo said, like it was common sense. "But mostly because I just wanna kick your ass."

The admission literally made him tense. After all, since when did Tsukishima back down from a challenge?

He hated losing.

He wouldn't lose.

With a smirk powerful enough to intimidate death itself, Tsukishima pushed his door open.

"You're on."

#kurotsuki #kurotsukki #adri writing #haikyuuwriters