and after that I watched Shameless in less than a week

different ways to be intimate

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Just small descriptions of non-sexual acts of intimacy with Tom.

*Notes: This is for Cassie ( @purelyparker ). She’s having a really rough time right now, just wanted to make it a little less rough :) xoxo


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Tom and you had been dating for a little over seven months – agreeing to take things slow between you two, especially when both of your schedules were busy, you two had very rare physically intimate moments. It had started with shameless flirting, not expecting it to go any further than that. Then, out of nowhere, you two were going on dates. They weren’t official, he’d ask if you wanted to get ice cream with him, some days coffee. You’d ask him if he’d like to come over and watch a movie or go to the park with you. It was very subtle, so subtle that neither of you realized what was happening. Soon enough, verbal ‘goodnights’ became kisses on the cheeks, slowly turning into kisses on the mouth.

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this is my @aftgexchange gift for @sirandking i’m not sure if this is quite what u were hoping for n it’s messy but idk i kinda like it 

tw for mentions of alcohol as a coping mechanism, as well as super brief blink-and-you-miss-it mentions of riko, drugs and self-harm

ao3 link


“That sweater is new,” Kevin comments as he seats himself in the beanbag next to Andrew’s, passing over a mug of coffee as he does so. It’s a small, meaningless comment - the kind of small talk they both collectively despise - but it’s something, and since the death of Riko, Kevin’s found that there are not really any other threads connecting the two of them. Silence has panned out between them for weeks. He tells himself he’s irritated by it because it’s bad for the team’s dynamics - a rapport with your teammates is essential for a successful team. He won’t admit that Andrew is probably the closest thing to a friend Kevin has around here, except for maybe Neil.

He doesn’t expect his comment to be dignified with a response; he knows Andrew well enough to know to expect perhaps a nod of acknowledgement, or a stony look his way, questioning and judging his observation. Nevertheless, the silence makes him ever-so-slightly self-conscious, so as his eyes catch the way the sleeves fall over Andrew’s hands, he tacks on a lousy “–and too big for you.”

Andrew Minyard has always been best at defying expectations.

“It’s not mine,” he responds coolly, devoid of emotion or even acknowledgment, eyes still trained on the contents of his mug as he mutters, as though talking to no one.

It’s an easy enough admittance, casual and shameless, yet it still manages to leave Kevin embarrassingly taken aback. He knows, realistically, that he probably has the best insight into the relationship between Andrew and Neil than any other outsider, however he’s still never quite got it. The logical part of his brain tells him it shouldn’t work - two people both so shattered and fiery, like shards of broken glass, in such close proximity can only end in further shattering, as far as he’s aware. And flames. It’s concerning, something with so much power, with so many sparks - just one wrong move could become a savage wildfire that burns his team down to nothing more than ashes. It’s risky and dangerous and stupid and he hates it, is terrified of it, but this admittance that comes so easily changes something in him.

Because something about the idea of Andrew Minyard curled into a beanbag with a cup of coffee and his boyfriend ’s (and isn’t that in itself another unexpected and ever-so-slightly strange thing to wrap his head around) sweater on feels less like untamed sparks and more like a candle light. And that’s much more soothing than terrifying, even if it is still a little strange to him.  

Perhaps trying to understand this would be a good idea, he concludes. So he asks “When did all this start for you anyway?” waving a hand conspiratorially to punctuate the question. And this time he’s almost convinced he’ll be ignored, or delivered a vague, meaningless answer as a result of the unspecific question, but the furrow of Andrew’s brow as he lifts his gaze up to Kevin’s tells him otherwise. It’s a strange, uncharted territory.

“February.”

“You liked him before then,” Kevin suddenly finds himself accusing before he can stop himself, still processing this new information, whilst considering every sign he could remember, the most poignant being the way Andrew did things for nobody but Neil. Could only have his arm twisted by Neil. Had always drifted towards Neil, had never raised a knife to Neil, had always been straight with admittances to Neil; Neil, Neil, Neil was the exception to every rule of the Andrew Minyard handbook, the one Kevin had studied meticulously and still never found a loophole in. He finds himself itching to know more.

“I hate him.” Andrew deadpans, a reflex at this point, and if Kevin was anyone else, he’d have furrowed his brow, wrinkled up his nose, frowned and found himself reprimanding Andrew, but he’s not anyone else, so he smirks instead, because he thinks he’s finally starting to understand how Andrew works, and this kind of understanding is as scintillating as it is spine-chilling, like watching a horror film, driving past a car crash or finding a spider in your room - the kind of fear that keeps you captivated, unable to tear your eyes away from it even when you know it’s awful, and you shouldn’t, and if this is what Andrew feels around Neil, no wonder he hates him. Andrew has never enjoyed feeling, as far as Kevin knows, and something so intense and contradictory, something that can’t be calculated and analysed can only be devastating.

The words “I know,” feel foreign and awkward on his tongue, his body tense as they slip out and it all multiplies when Andrew’s blank stare shifts from the mug he warms his hands on to Kevin’s face. “Why him?” he eggs on, trying to coax something out of Andrew, whether it be more answers and information, something to help him understand, or just a reaction, something to put the world back in order and dissolve the itchy curiosity and mere residue of fear that has settled on his skin.

Andrew ignores it entirely. “You’ve reached your daily quota of questions you can ask me for free.” He pauses, as though considering something for a moment, before finally deciding against whatever it is and dismissing Kevin with a curt “You can go now.”

Kevin goes.


The next time Kevin sees Andrew, it’s because he’s paused the exy game on his laptop and emerged from his room for the first time in hours after smelling something divine. He is greeted with the sight of an unholy amount of Indian food scattered across the table, and isn’t sure whether he wants to kiss Andrew (if he was not in a relationship, if Andrew was not in a relationship, if either of them were in any way attracted to each other and if he had a death wish - none of which are even remotely true) or kill him, because really , this is not how future professional athletes should eat, but he can hear Jean’s voice in his head telling him to relax, to loosen the tight leash of control he has over his life in order for total success, thus he reluctantly picks up the spare fork left on the side and a tub of something orange, before sitting on the other end of

the sofa to Andrew.

“Nicky and Aaron will be here soon,” Andrew states at the exact same time that Kevin asks “Where’s Neil?”, changing his course of action to start Kevin down instead.

There’s a handful of new mottled bruises adorning his face from who knows where, and a nasty looking cut beneath his eye that he’s certain Aaron will fuss over later, much to Andrew’s dismay, and for a moment he considers asking if he’s okay,  before swiftly realising what a stupid idea that is and dismissing it completely as Andrew opens his mouth again.

“I’m not his keeper.”

“I know.” Again. Andrew sighs.

“Did I or did I not tell you that you have asked as many free questions as you are permitted to today?” This time, as Andrew snaps, Kevin hears it.

“Free?” he asks around a mouthful of rice, swallowing hastily before he continues. “So if I give you something, I can ask more?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Andrew grants him a small nod anyway. “Neil and I have - had - a thing.” Kevin agonisingly anticipates his next words as Andrew scoops up another mouthful of food. Static silence stretches out between them until he swallows again. “Truth for truth. For everything you ask me, I ask you something.”

“Deal.”

“It’s my turn.” His gaze shoots skywards, face contorting in mock-thought. “Why are you so interested?”

“In?”

He rolls his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out?” is punctuated with a sigh. “Me and Neil.”

“I don’t understand it,” is all Kevin replies, because, really, he’s not all too sure.

“Understand what?”

“Any of it. It’s a lot to process.” Andrew nods as Kevin finishes, despite the answer being indisputably lame.

“It’s your turn.”

“Why him?” falls out of Kevin’s mouth again like a reflex. He watches as Andrew’s blank expression twitches and his eyes shut for a second in something akin to stoicism.

“He’s interesting.” Kevin knows how much that means from a perpetually bored man.

“He’s kind of messed up,” he replies hesitantly, though there’s really no “kind of,” - there’s not doubt that Neil’s messed up - and he isn’t sure whether his words are a challenge or a disagreement.

There’s something almost wistful in Andrew’s eyes. “Exactly.”

Kevin gets that, too. The reason things have always worked with Thea, even when others told him, told both of them , that they shouldn’t, is because she always got it. She knew what it was like to be a Raven, she knew the complicated relationship he had with Riko and the Moriyamas, she never judged, never told him his reactions were gratuitous or invalid, she just understood .

Understanding, true understanding, is unparalleled in rarity, and perhaps the most coveted trait of all.

“Why alcohol?” interrupts Kevin from his thoughts, and it takes him a moment longer than it should to process that it’s Andrew’s turn again.

“What?” Kevin asks, wrinkling up his face.

“You could have any coping mechanism you wanted: drugs, self-harm, running yourself to the bone, food addiction, therapy, adult colouring books…” he lists off, his eyes infinitesimally lighter than usual, and Kevin resists the urge to roll his eyes, because of course the only person who can amuse Andrew Minyard is Andrew Minyard. “Why alcohol?” he repeats.

“It’s the only thing that can make me forget.”

“There are drugs that could do that much easier,” Andrew replies, but there are lines in his forehead as he tacks on “probably.”

“After Seth and Aaron,” Kevin responds cautiously, “and you – cracker dust is the worst I swore I’d ever do. And that–” he pauses again, mind casting him back to nights at Eden, panic attacks in toilet stalls and the burn in his throat that leaves his brain null and void of all things Evermore. “–It’s not enough on its own.”

“It’s weak. And unhealthy.”

“I know.” He replies, and there’s something cold and cumbersome building up at the pit of his stomach as the topic is stretched out like an elastic band, millimetres away from snapping or closing back in on itself, so he tries his hardest not to trip over words as they stumble out of his mouth. “It’s my turn again. How does it work - you and him - after everything? Your past. How do you–”

“No.” Andrew cuts him off, fists clenching tighter around the cutlery in his hands. “You don’t get to ask that. Something else.”

Kevin doesn’t say sorry, but his face does, even if there’s something about pulling a reaction out of Andrew that sets his nerves on fire. “What are you scared of?”

Andrew blinks at him once, empty composure regained. “Heights.”

Kevin’s face wrinkles up. How can a man who has spent so long mocking Kevin for his fears of the Moriyamas, of the Ravens, of death , be afraid of something so trivial, something that is a fear of death, in a way, in itself. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of death.”

“I’m not.” Andrew replies, a hint of a sneer on his face as he adds “And I hate that word.”

“Afraid?” Kevin asks, shrugging when Andrew nods. “If you’re not afraid of death, what is it about heights that you’re scared of?”

“Falling.” Andrew replies hollowly, and Kevin’s about to ask more, about to ask about how he can go to a rooftop so often with Neil - does Neil know? - when the conversation is interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock, and the two boys shift around just in time to watch a drenched Neil, looking like he’s just taken a fully-clothed shower, stumble through the door, flanked by Dan and Allison, both also varying levels of waterlogged.

As the girls immediately make their way over to the excess of food lying on the table, eyes wide and begging Andrew and Kevin to let them have some, Neil slides effortlessly into the space between them and turns to Andrew, who tentatively reaches out towards him and ruffles a hand through his hair, watching as Neil slides his soiled jacket off and finally wiping his now wet hand on Neil’s shirt to dry it.

The sides of Neil’s mouth twitch and Kevin battles with the urge to turn away, to leave.

“There’s enough food there to feed a small army,” Neil mutters, low enough that the words were really meant only for Andrew, and softer than Kevin’s ever heard. It’s more than slightly disconcerting.

“You’re a small army,” Andrew retorts, only Neil must be hearing something else completely in that, because next thing he knows, Neil’s turned around to face the girls who are still fawning over the makeshift banquet.

“Invite the rest of the team and you can help yourselves,” he states, watching with eyes showing something reminiscent of fondness as Allison immediately pulls her phone out and Dan digs through their drawers for extra cutlery.

Neil turns back to Andrew, the ghost of a smile hanging from his mouth fading after a second, face wrinkling up.

“Isn’t that sweater mine?”

Kevin’s mind may say “Disgusting,” but he can feel the sides of his mouth quirk upwards as he finds Andrew’s face encrusted with crumbs of fear like he’s tumbling, freefalling, into an abyss.

anonymous asked:

I have read your works! And I love 'The Stars Incline us, they don't bind us' so muuuuuch. If this is not too much to ask, can you make cherik fic rec? Thank you! Keep writing, awesome!

thank you very much, i’m glad you enjoyed my stuff! :3 

since this blog is exactly 5 years old today, what better occasion is there to do cherik fic rec post, as lurking around cherik fic rec tumblr posts waaay back in the day is actually what originally brought me to tumblr in the first place. the following list is in no particular order, and odds are i like multiple fics by the authors included but i was determined to limit myself to one from each (though in some cases, this was a veeeery close call, haha).

anyway, the actual title of this list is coincidentally the main criteria i used in the interest of not having it stretch on for miles, which is to say:

Cherik Fics Pan Has Reread An Embarrassing Amount Of Times Throughout Her XMFC Fandom Tenure:

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A Day in the Life

Characters: John, oldest Winchester sister!reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester.

Words: 2000

Warnings: A teeny tiny bit of blood, a little bit of a language (probably just one word or something), a little bit of fluff. Nothing bad at all in this one.

A/N: So I was debating whether or not to post it since it’s a bit similar to stuff I’ve written lately, but then again, I felt like I needed to post something, and some of you even seemed to want me to post it <3 

Have you seen Shameless? I’ve only seen a handful of episodes (started watching the other day) and this is a little bit inspired by Fiona taking care of the other siblings. I think it’s cute, so yeah, just a fun fact I guess. Also, this is pre-series (my favorite thing to write) and pretty much focused on the reader and her life.

So yeah, hopefully this is okay for now and I’ll try to vary the fics more until next 

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Your name: submit What is this?

You looked down at the fresh fake IDs you just made for you and your dad, pictures of the two of you staring back at you as you thumbed through the thin stack. Reaching the Impala, you opened the door, and sat down, stuffing them into the glove compartment for now. You would need them for the investigation you were continuing tomorrow, going undercover.

Nowadays, you and your dad split up for the most part of the cases, during basically all of the research. It was fine, you were young — 21 years of age — but still good at your job. You did have quite a lot of experience contrary popular belief, judging by your youthful appearance. Since you graduated, this was what you did 24 hours around the clock, hunting was the only thing that made up your life. That, and taking care of your baby brothers, of course.

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5

Douche bag, go find your boyfriend. You know, you’re the reason that he left. So go find him. Not my fucking problem. You know what? Nothing’s ever your problem. For once, you know, make something your problem… I gotta take care of something important.

Another (Chapter Four)

Ugh these two are killing me. The adorableness is killing me. Steve is finally relaxing a little, and Bucky finds out about them! Background WinterIron because they are the cutest.

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Enjoy :)

********************
Didn’t think my jaw could stretch that far. Steve thought as he pulled his pants back up over his hips and glanced over at Thor.

The demi-god was leaning against the wall, blue eyes closed, breathing hard, his pants still open and loose around his hips and Steve watched as he slid down the wall to sit.

“Steven.” Thor chuckled. “If I known you could use your mouth that well, we might have done this ages ago.”

“I could barely take you.” Steve argued, dropping onto the floor next to the giant. He had only been able to get half of Thors cock in his mouth, and even that had been a struggle. Bucky had told him once (in an entirely embarrassing conversation), that Tony could take all of him without gagging and Steve hadn’t appreciated how much of a feat that was until right now.

“Nonsense.” Thor waved his hand non committedly. “'Twas excellent. Besides, what is it you say? Practice makes perfect? I foresee much practice in our future.”

Steve chuckled, and Thor shifted so their shoulders were touching, so he could rest his hand on Steve’s knee.

Another clandestine meeting in another random room, the third time in so many days, simply because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. After their night together, Steve hadn’t been able to stay away and Thor had had the same ideas, and after sparring or practice or whatever the last few days they had disappeared into whichever room was closest to kiss and grope at each other, trying to get off as quickly and quietly as possible.

There had been no excuse this time. Thor had simply been walking to his room, carrying a chair over his shoulders to put in front of his fire.

Steve had stepped out of the elevator at that exact moment and stared.

He could lift a recliner without breaking a sweat as well. He could also carry it down the hall over his shoulder as if it weighed no more than a small child. But to see Thor doing it, golden muscles shifting, the way his eyes lit up seeing Steve, the way his deep voice nearly vibrated when he spoke– Steve couldn’t help staring. Thor had quietly informed him that he shouldn’t look like that when a man’s hands were too full to properly do anything about it.

The very next minute Thor had dropped the chair and Steve had opened a door in the hallway, yanking Thor through it and onto the floor with him.

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Summer Boy || Jeon Jungkook (M) pt.02

Picture mine

{ pt.03 }

Jungkook x reader

Genre: Smutty plot

Word count: 6,512

~ Sorry I took so long to update and it’s not much but here is part two! I’ve been a bit busy these past two weeks but hope you enjoy ♡

it’s roughly edited sorry


   “I’m going! I’m going!”

I dabbed the liquid product against the side of my neck, blending it with my finger. I pushed my hair away from my shoulders, making sure I didn’t forget any spots. The weather was extremely hot so I couldn’t exactly go out with a turtleneck on. I moved my hair over my neck just as an extra precaution before opening the door, seeing Coco standing on the other side of it. She raised her eyebrow suspiciously at me and I just smiled at her like nothing was happening.

    “Breakfast is getting cold.” She said looking past me into the bathroom, as if to find somebody in there. I gave her a small ‘okay’ and followed her out of my room and into the kitchen where everyone was at. They all looked up from their plates as we walked in and I took the empty seat next to Emi at the island table. I greeted them all a good morning as I poured myself a glass of orange juice from the vase in the center.

     “You look well rested (Y/n).” Mina said speaking up with a bit of food still in her mouth. The other girls giggled under their breaths as I eyed them, with the edge of the glass against my lips. Bitsy nudged my arm with her elbow before passing me a plate of food Coco had served for me.

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said simply with a shrug from my shoulder, setting the glass down in front of me.

     “Come on guys. We all know (Y/n) isn’t the type to kiss and tell.” Emi said settling everyone down. “Or should I say fuck and tell.” I gasped as everyone busted out laughing again. So much for her being the innocent one of the group. Bitsy reached in front of me to give her a high five for the clever comment.

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Aroma- Jackson (Day 3/100)

You can find my post explaining the 100 Day Drabble Challenge here

To read the other drabbles in my drabble challenge, click here

Prompt: Aroma
Member: Jackson x Reader
AU: Hogwarts!AU, HarryPotter!AU


“Sit down in your respective seats. Class is beginning,” the professor barked. You shot a look to Jackson and tried to hold back laughter as he mimicked the potion’s professor’s words. You fixed the blue and bronze tie around your neck as you pulled out your book and placed it next to the cauldron in front of you.

Although you didn’t particularly care for the professor of the class, there was no doubt that Potions was your favorite class at Hogwarts. The idea that you could create anything you put your mind to, simply with a few ingredients, was very exciting.

It was like cooking. But with dangerous materials.

Your best friend, on the other hand, despised the class with a burning passion. Jackson made it a point to argue with you every time you brought it up, and it had gotten to the point that you just dismissed him entirely when he went on rants about the homework or exams.

But none of this stopped Jackson from attending the class anyways. You never really understood why he would come to class if he hated it that much, but you assumed that he needed to pass it just like anyone else. And regardless of why he was there, you were happy to have your friend as a lab partner.

Although you were in Ravenclaw and he was in Gryffindor, the two of you had been friends since your first year when he sat next to you on the Hogwarts Express. It only took you a short while to realize how much you really liked him, and you soon became fast friends. Your friends constantly teased you about your relationship with him, but you just brushed them aside. All you knew was that Jackson was one of your favorite people and you wanted to be around him throughout all your years at Hogwarts no matter what.

You broke away from your thoughts and turned back to the professor as he began to lecture.

“Today we will be discussing the many properties of Amortentia and its uses,” the professor stated. The class burst into whispers and excitement, but it died down when the professor spoke once more. “Silence. Now can anyone tell me what Amortentia is?” he asked, looking around the room. You put your hand up instinctively and he pointed at you to proceed.

“It’s a love potion,” you stated simply. “It’s extremely powerful and can cause infatuation…obsession even,” you explained, hearing more whispers around you as the students talked amongst themselves.

“Silence,” barked the professor again, shutting the class up. “That’s correct, 10 points for Ravenclaw,” he stated, begrudgingly. Jackson gave you a small nudge and a smile which made you look down at your cauldron as a small smile rose to your lips as well.

For the next 20 minutes, the professor spoke about the potion and its origins, its main purpose and the many witches and wizards who had their hearts broken through the use of the potion. Because although it created infatuation, it could not create true love.

“I have given each of you a cauldron and the ingredients for the potion. You have the rest of the class time to make the potion and show it to me. You may begin,” he said as the class began moving around to find the ingredients.

“Wow, we actually get to make a love potion, how crazy is,” you exclaimed, excitedly. Jackson let out a small laugh which made you immediately become warm on the inside. “Why?” he asked, smirking at you as you brought out your textbook and flipped through the pages. “Got someone in mind that you would use it on?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. You immediately turned pink and looked back at your book.

“Of course not! I’m just excited to make the potion, that’s all,” you mumbled as you began to measure out the ingredients. There was a brief, comfortable silence while Jackson began to prepare his potion as well when you found yourself suddenly very curious.

“Wait,” you asked, turning to him. He brought his eyes up to yours and you mentally remarked on how good his hair looked today before finishing your original thought. “Is there someone you would use it on?” you asked. Jackson looked at the cauldron in thought before grinning suddenly.

“Yea, there is actually,” he said, laughing lightly. You felt your heart skip a beat as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Who?” you asked, casually, dying to know his response.

“Let’s just say it’s a very sexy Ravenclaw,” he said, winking at you. You immediately choked on your own breath and your eyes widened as your jaw dropped.

“Wait what?” you exclaimed loudly. “Who?” you asked, now more eager than ever. You weren’t aware that Jackson had a crush on anyone and know you wanted to know who it was.

“It’s me, of course,” someone behind you said, poking their head between the two of you. You jumped back, slightly startled as you saw the dirty blonde hair of fellow Ravenclaw Mark Tuan smiling a toothy grin at you. You groaned as Jackson cheered.

“OH MY GOD, HOW DID YOU KNOW??” Jackson shouted, grinning and pulling Mark into a hug as the pair laughed. You looked around but the class was so loud that nobody was really paying any attention to you.

“Mark, why are you even here? You’re not even in this class!” you exclaimed to the Prefect. Mark shrugged and pointed at the box in his hands.

“I had to drop this off with the Professor,” he remarked. He briefly glanced down at your potion and then Jackson’s. He let out another smile and patted Jackson on the back.

“Jackson, you know I love you, but you suck at Potions,” he stated bluntly. Jackson looked at him in disbelief as you giggled, stirring your own pot which was now a silver color. You looked over at Jackson’s and saw that it was a dirty brown and this only made you laugh harder.

“Y/N was right, go away,” Jackson said, pushing Mark away as he laughed and walked over to the professor’s desk. You rolled your eyes playfully and added the last of the ingredients as your potion quickly took on a mother-of-pearl sheen. You looked at your masterpiece and smiled contently while Jackson groaned and closed his book.

“I don’t get it, how are you so good at this stuff?” he asked, sincerely. You merely shrugged and raised your hand, motioning to the professor that your potion was complete. You began to notice a certain smell coming from the liquid when you remembered one of the most important aspects of Amortentia.

The aroma reminded people of the things they loved and found the most attractive.

You immediately bent down and breathed in the potion, closing your eyes and letting your mind wander through the smells. There was definitely something sweet, almost like cotton candy. Fresh air after a rainstorm. Your mother’s homemade chocolate chip cookies. And something else that was very strong and smelled a bit musty. Almost like a fancy cologne of some sort. You had definitely smelled it before, but you couldn’t quite place it.

“I see you’ve completed the potion,” the professor commented, pulling you out of your thoughts. Everyone around you became quiet as people moved in closer to see your potion. You felt slightly embarrassed by all the attention, but Jackson shot you a small smile and you nodded gratefully.

“Yes, sir,” you commented, allowing him to inspect it.

“And what do you smell?” he asked. You suddenly became nervous as the whole class was watching what you would say. You felt your mouth dry up and you fumbled for words when all of a sudden, Jackson bent over you and took a deep breath of the Amortentia.

“Mmm, smells like warm vanilla,” he said, happily. The class whispered amongst themselves as the professor raised his eyebrows. Jackson continued, as you took a side step to give him more room.

“It also kind of smells like the dim sum my dad makes!” he exclaimed happily. “Chocolate maybe?” he mumbled. Suddenly he paused and you noticed a confused look on his face. He looked up at you and bumped you with his shoulder lightly causing you to take a step backwards. He brought his face back down to the cauldron but still looked slightly confused. At this point, everyone was back to looking at him, and you didn’t want your friend to be embarrassed (even though he was pretty shameless) so you spoke up.

“I smelled cotton candy and chocolate chip cookies!” you exclaimed as the professor turned back over to you, slightly confused. Once again, the class began to whisper and everyone pushed up to try to smell the potion.

“Alright class, that’s enough for today. Your homework is to write a three page paper on Amortentia and its properties. I also want each of you to come to my office at some time this week to set up a time to finish your potions,” he explained, making everyone groan. As everyone began packing up, the professor nodded at you. “Since you were able to complete the potion, there’s no need for you to make up the time,” he stated briskly before leaving you to pack up.

“Lucky,” Jackson whined as he threw his textbook in his bag. You smiled at him and gave him a disproving look.

“Well maybe if you spent more time trying to make the potion and less time flirting with Mark, you wouldn’t have to make it up either,” you said, laughing lightly. Jackson rolled his eyes but followed you as you left the classroom. “That potion is weird,” Jackson said, annoyed. “It was supposed to smell like things you loved but I couldn’t even place half of them.” This made you slightly more at ease, knowing that you were not the only one with difficulty placing the smells.

“Yea, the same thing happened to me,” you added. “It smelled amazing though. I wouldn’t mind bottling it up just so that I could smell it all day,” you laughed. Jackson nodded in agreement as the two of you walked to the Great Hall. There, you split up because you had Transfiguration and Jackson had Charms, but not before Jackson bent down to give you a hug. He turned and walked away and you were about to do the same when something clicked.

The aroma was his. It was Jackson. Jackson was the aroma. The aroma that you had just smelled was Jackson. And Jackson was the aroma you had smelled.

You suddenly felt light headed and walked into the Great Hall to grab a glass of water. How could this be possible? Of course you liked him, but you had never really thought about him in a romantic light before. But why not? He was attractive. And funny. And incredibly sweet. What was there not to like? But he was your best friend! How could you be attracted to your best friend? You shook the thoughts from your mind as you groaned and began walking to class.


A few days later you were sitting outside the castle, eating a sandwich that you had swiped from the Great Hall. You usually loved eating with your friends, but the weather was far too nice to stay cooped up inside so you had decided to take your food out to the courtyard.

“Hey Y/N!” a voice called out as you were about to take a bit of your sandwich. You looked over and saw Jackson skipping towards you. This was the first time you were seeing him since the Potions class and you immediately began to feel nervous.

“Hey!” you said, trying to act natural as you gave him a side hug and motioned for him to sit down next to you. “How’s your day been?” you asked, taking a bite of the sandwich and briefly glancing at him. He wasn’t wearing his robes and his red and gold tie was loosely thrown around his neck. His appearance made your heart beat faster, and you wondered why you were feeling this way. It had never been like this before, so why now?

“It was long,” he stated, sighing. “I had to go in early today and finish that Amortentia potion,” he added. At the mention of the potion you gulped down your sandwich and nodded slowly.

“Did you manage to make it correctly?” you asked, glancing at him again. Suddenly, Jackson moved so that he was facing you rather than the rest of the courtyard.

“Yea, I did, but it was weird,” he stated, confusion written on his face. “It smelled exactly the same as when you made it in class.” This time you gave him a confused look as you put down your sandwich and turned to face him.

“What do you mean? It’s the same potion so it’ll smell the same regardless of who makes it,” you said, letting out a short laugh. Your eyes met Jackson’s and almost immediately you realized that there was something on his mind.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” you asked. “You looked really confused in class when I made it and you look even more confused now, so why – ”

“It keeps smelling like you,” Jackson suddenly stated, interrupting your sentence. You felt your heart rate speed up as you realized what he just said. You opened your mouth to speak but then closed it again. Jackson sighed and leaned back into the bench.

“But that’s weird right? Because we’re just really good friends! At first I thought it was because you were standing so close to me which is why I pushed you away in class. But then when I made it by myself, it still smelled like that! Maybe that can happen with people that are really close. Maybe it happens with family members that –”

“It smelled like you to me too,” you suddenly confessed, staring into his eyes. He shot his head up and his eyes widened with surprise. You bit your lip and looked away. “But it’s weird for me too. Because we’ve been just friends for so long and I don’t know if we could be…” you trailed off, staring at the forest in the distance.

“Be what? More than friends?” Jackson asked, sincerely. You nodded slowly and looked back at him. You were scared because you didn’t know what you were feeling, but you were also slightly relieved that Jackson felt the same way.

“So what should we do?” you asked, genuinely. Jackson ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before turning back to you.

“I think we should try it,” he stated shortly. You tilted your head and nodded slowly.

“Okay, we can try it…” you said, thinking hard before snapping your finger. “Oh! I know! We should go to Hogsmade this weekend!” you exclaimed. Jackson laughed and the air felt relieved of the previous tension that it held.

“We always go to Hogsmade together though,” he said, nudging your shoulder lightly and giving you a knowing look.

“Yea, but we should go together together,” you said, smiling lightly at him. Jackson grinned and this time took your hand in his own.

“Alright. Let’s go together together.”

Word Count: 2560

anonymous asked:

Could write a short fic about sprace as lifeguards

I can indeed! Hope you like it :)


The woman who hired Spot and Race to work the same shift at the pool started to regret it within a week. They weren’t bad at their job, they just looked like they were bad at their job – which wasn’t exactly the image she wanted to be portraying. No one had drowned and the reports required at the end of the day were always on her desk in time and filled in properly. If they were as accurate as she believed they were, her two newest employees had dived in to save upwards of ten children who got out of their depth. But you wouldn’t know it from watching them work.

For one, she’d caught Race smoking more than once. It was hardly a fire risk around a pool full of water, but if the guests weren’t allowed to smoke then neither were the lifeguards. Spot hadn’t been seen doing the same, but she was convinced she’d seen him on his phone a couple of times – he’d just always managed to slip it back into his pocket before she was close enough to be certain. That was all relatively innocuous and almost to be expected when hiring teenagers, but what she did not expect was the shameless flirting.

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As It Seems: Chapter 16

Table of Contents

Según Parece: Lista De Contenidos

Summary: You and Dean head back home, have an actual talk about all of your options, and make a decision

Word Count: 3841

Warnings: Implied Smut

Beta’d by: @kclaire1

PREVIOUS CHAPTER


~~Dean’s POV~~

“Have we ever backed out without giving you notice? That’s right. I’ll look forward to seeing our name on the top of that list, just like normal. Thank you.” Y/N hung up the phone and took a deep breath to calm down. “I told you that your company would die without me. That was Janelle from the charity auction. She thought that since we hadn’t been in the office for the last three days that we decided not to be sponsors anymore.”

“What? We’ve sponsored that auction every year since I started the damn business.”

“Yeah.” Y/N leaned back and put her feet up on the dash as we sped through the land of South Dakota. “Well, next time you decide to whisk me away in the middle of the night, give me some warning so I can wrap up some loose ends before we go.”

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Amor Vincit Omnia ( Yoongi/ OC)

Chapter 10.

The ride back from the event was mostly silent. I was very tired and the tell-tale soreness in my ribs was back. Yoongi had his phone out, texting someone, while I curled up on the other side of the seat. I couldn’t help sneak glances at him as he frowned at the phone in furious concentration. He had tossed away his jacket and the white shirt looked strained as it stretched across his lean physique. I watched him as he loosened the tie , yanking on the knot absently as he continued to stare into the phone. He looked even more handsome than earlier, if that was even possible. There was something less tense and more…relaxed about his posture. I smiled absently, admiring the sculpted jawline and the smooth column of his neck.

“Take a picture. it’ll last longer.” He snapped.

I jumped, embarrassed. Bowing my head , I quickly turned away and stared out of the window, face flaming. I also felt a little annoyed. If he didn’t like people staring he shouldn’t go around dressing like sin on a plate. Sighing, I stared out into the night , the cars passing by in streaks of light too quick to capture and commit to memory. I was tired but it was a good king of tired. Not the sort you feel after getting bruised and battered, but the sort of exhaustion that comes with being too happy. I’d never felt it before and I savored it, resting my heated cheeks against the cold glass panes. I could live like this, I thought suddenly. I could be happy this way. I didn’t need more.

Once the car pulled in front of the penthouse, Yoongi came around to help me out and I noticed the strained look of pain on his face.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine. Hurry up.” He said brusquely.

I followed him into the lift and hesitated, biting my lips in concern when he leaned a bit against the mirrored wall.

“Are you sure you’re-”

“I said I’m fine. Just…” He sighed and ran a hand over his face in annoyance. I sighed. Why was it so hard for him to admit he was hurt? But I didn’t push it, just casually walking next to him in a way that I could at least break his fall if he swayed too much and lost his balance.

“I had fun tonight..” I blurted out, watching him get ready for bed. He shrugged out of his shirt and I turned away to give him some privacy. After a second he hummed, having slipped into a black t-shirt.

“Good. You should start working hard from tomorrow. Seokjin was telling me he’d pick you up in the evening?” He said , eyebrows raised. I nodded.

“And Jimin said he’d take me out to lunch. Taehyung made a list of NGOs that may be interested in offering pottery classes to kids.” I said eagerly. He nodded.

“That’s fine. By the way, I’ll be going into the office tomorrow. You needn’t worry about cooking anything. I may not be back for dinner.” He said casually.

“Oh, are you sure you should be going back? It’s only been two weeks…” I reminded him and he gave me a look.

“Why don’t you let me worry about that?” He said casually with a smile.

In other words, mind your own business.

I stared at him for a second. It was hard to understand what lurked underneath that handsome face. He didn’t budge an inch, never giving me the slightest opening to try and get to know him. It worried me a bit, how shut off from emotions he was. But what worried me more was the way my heart was slowly feeling drawn to him. It couldn’t really end well for me.

“Okay. I’ll…I mean, you could call me and let me know when you’re coming home and…”

“You don’t have to wait up for me either. Like i said, now that I’m going back to the office I won’t be needing your serv-” He stopped at the last moment and gave me a look. “ Help.” He finished awkwardly.

services.

He’d been about to say , services.

I could feel a laugh of disbelief bubbling up inside me. Good God, did he really think I was offering him services?? What was I , a hired maid? Affronted , i almost opened my mouth to argue but then remembered that yes, that’s exactly what i was.

He was giving me a studio , offering me a chance to live a life of my own and in return I would be offering him my cooking and cleaning and hosting services. That plus the fact that I may get killed if I leave him.

Wasn’t that a marriage made in heaven?

I’ve never seen a more shameless woman than you. Hye Mi’s voice echoed through my head.

I bit my lips, wondering why I felt that way too.


“So, we could get a comprehensive list by next Tuesday. We’ll start off with just two classes a day, morning and evening. And then maybe you could hire a few more teachers and start more batches. I was actually thinking, that you should definitely offer to teach these rich wives as well, it will help you support the studio. You can ask one of the other teacher’s you hire to take care of those classes, because I can tell you want to teach the kids.” Jimin said cheerfully , pouring me a glass of white wine as we sat on a patio deck of a river side restaurant.

Jimin was a beautiful person, I thought in genuine admiration ,  inside and outside. He lived up to his international fashion designer status, dressed in a navy blue suit. His hair was dyes a nice ash grey and he had a smile that could destroy. We talked for over an hour about everything and nothing and I realized that he had a ridiculous sense of humor and a never-ending love for gossip. It was like being best friends with the most popular, gossip queen in the school.

“Thank you so much for doing this..” I said gratefully and he waved it off.

“Pssh… i should be the one thanking you. Yoongi hyung is so much easier to put up with, now that he has his own personal baby-sitter.” He winked.

I laughed.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“I won’t…but you do spoil him rotten. He pretends he doesn’t like it but i can tell he enjoys all the attention you give him.” He said with a soft smile.

I stared at him.

“Are we talking about the same person? ” Before I could stop myself I told him what he’d said the previous night. Jimin frowned but then shrugged.

“Well, to be fair I’m not surprised . Yoongi isn’t really an emotional kind of guy. Even if he feels something for someone, he’s likely to dig a two hundred feet hole and bury it rather than confront his feelings. ” He said seriously.

I nodded understandingly.

“Of course…by the way, don’t any of you guys have girl friends?” I said curiously.  Jiming shrugged.

“Not on purpose no. It’s just…it’s hard to find a girl who wants to be with all seven of us.”

I stared at him.

He started laughing.

“Sorry , that came out horribly wrong. I meant that it sometimes throws our dynamics, when we date girls who aren’t comfortable with our friendship. I don’t know if you know this, but all seven of us share a huge apartment complex in Gangnam. We crash there most of the time and well, Namjoon and Seokjin live there permanently. Taehyung and I travel a lot and so does Hoseok. Jung Kook has a penthouse in Itaewon near his business but he crashes at our place as well. Basically we spend a lot of time with each other and well, the women or men we meet aren’t really… okay with it? ” He shrugged.

Before I could reply, he looked over my shoulder and his expression sort of froze.

I turned around and smiled when I saw Taehyung. He was , however followed by the girl from the previous night. Mia? Myra?

Taehyung looked great in a white t-shirt and blue jean and next to me Jimin stiffened so badly that I looked at him in alarm.

“What’s wrong?” I said quickly and he shook his head, his entire body tense.

“Nothing..I..I’m fine.” He said through gritted teeth and I couldn’t press the subject when Taehyung slipped in next to Jimin, draping a casual hand over him. As always Mia ignored me, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. Taehyung said something playful to Jimin that I couldn’t catch and then Jimin replied rather sharply , which made Taehyung recoil in shock.

“what’s got your panties in a twist?” He said angrily and Jimin turned away furious.

“Maybe the fact that you can’t keep it in your fucking pants for one night.” He hissed back. Taehyung flinched and looked at me in genuine embarrassment. Jimin too looked abashed and looked away. I felt like an intruder as I sat there staring pointedly away.

“I’m sorry, ji Soo. I’ll leave you guys to your lunch date. Come on Mia…” Taehyung stood up, grabbing the girl’s wrist and all but yanking her as he stomped away, anger evident in each step.

“Wow..I…What’s wrong?” I said gently and Jimin sighed.

“Nothing. I..I just..i didn’t expect him to show up with that trollop.” He hissed and I grinned a bit. I’d through the exact same thing about Mia and it felt good to have someone voice that opinion out loud.

“You don’t like her…” I asked quietly and he shook his head.

“That’s just it, though. I don’t have anything against her. Or any of the other dozen women he sleeps with but everytime I see him with one of them I want to…” He stopped, eyes widening as he looked at me. i blinked as the pieces fell into place in a single slip.

“You like Tae??” I whispered, astounded. He bit his lips.

“You must think I’m disgusting…” He shook his head and I shook my head in disbelief.

“Why would..I… Oh, God, Jimin have you tried telling him?” I said eagerly. As I thought of all the interactions the two of them shared, I suddenly realized that they were pretty much perfect for each other. Taehyung was wacky, fun and a ball of energy. Jimin was sassy, funny, sweet and sensible.

Jimin gave me a look of bitter disbelief.

“He’ll probably laugh in my face and kick me in the balls after.” He said, shaking his head.

Oh, wow.

“You mean he doesn’t like men?” I said worriedly. It would be tragic if that were true.

Jimin shrugged.

“He doesn’t date men…but I know he …well he’s sexually attracted to them.” He said ducking his head a bit.

I frowned.

“If he doesn’t date men, how could you possibly know that?” I asked curiously. Jimin mumbled something under his breath.

“What?” I leaned in closer.

“I said…We slept together once.”

I squealed so loud a bunch of them turned around to give me annoyed looks. i clamped a hand down on my mouth to smother the sound.

Jimin stared at me like i was insane.

“Are you serious? You’re squealing? How old are you?” He shook his head, lips curling in distaste and I think i fell a bit in love with him.

“I’m so sorry…I just…Jimin, if you guys have history you should totally talk to him about it though. I’m no expert but…” understatement of the century, “ I think talking really helps.” I said honestly.

Jimin shrugged.

“It’s not that easy. I don’t want to screw things up irrevocably. We work together, we’re best friends , hell we’re like family. i can’t throw all that away just because I can’t keep my feelings in check. i mean don’t get me wrong, love is grand and all but sometimes…sometimes you’ve got to give up on it. to do the right thing. And for us, the right thing would be for me to never bring it up to him.”

I stared at him. He was right, I thought sadly. Love was nice, but sometimes, you can’t risk everything you have for something you may in the end, lose.

“Okay. If you want to talk about it… I’m here.” I said softly. He smiled.

“You know what, I may even take you up on that offer someday.”

We talked some more about how to arrange classes and about how we could recruit new teachers for the studio. Once he dropped me off at the penthouse, he held my hand for a second.

“I know it must be hard…with Yoongi.. and considering him, he’s probably making things a million times harder than they need to be but…I hope you don’t give up on him. I …i think he really cares for you.” Jimin said softly.

I smiled.

“Thank you for saying that. I know it probably isn’t true but I feel good hearing it.” I reached out and kissed his cheek . He smiled and waved before leaving.

When I went back to the penthouse, I found my husband sprawled on the couch. It was a little past four. Seokjin hadn’t been able to meet me because of something else. We’d rescheduled for tomorrow.

“You’re back?” I said , surprised. He grunted.

“I have to leave at seven for a dinner meeting . ” He said . I nodded and went to set some water on the stove to make him tea and went back tot the bedroom to change, when I came back he was sitting up, signing something in a file. I placed the tray in front of him and smiled .

“Is your shoulder feeling better now?” I said .

He didn’t reply, continuing to look at me carefully.

Finally, just to fill the silence, I told him about the day with Jimin, about our plans to expand the business later. He hummed , occasionally.

“When I was little , I’d always hoped I could teach children how to make clay stuff. I mean I’d hoped that it would be my own children but…” I stopped, cursing my motor-mouth.

He gave me a casual glance.

“No reason you shouldn’t have a kid of your own. Once this whole thing with EXO dies down, I’ll give you a divorce. You can go find your true love.” The last phrase dripped with disdain.

I blinked in genuine surprise. somehow in the past three weeks spent with him I’d lost all desire for a divorce.

“I’m not…I don’t mind being married to you.” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He looked up then, staring at me in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” I said after a few minutes, shuffling uncomfortably.

“Nothing.” He went back to his files. i watched him for a few minutes and then finally moved tentatively, settling down on the couch next to him, a good three feet away. He stopped turning the pages for a second and glanced at my knees, as though wondering what I was doing and then went back to reading his files.

“About…Jimin and Taehyung….”

“I know they want to screw each other but are a  bunch of pussies who are too fucking scared to just admit it. . And frankly, it has nothing to do with us , so whatever you want to say, can it.” He snapped.  i dropped my shoulders in defeat. Although my heart perked up at his use of the word ’ Us’.

“I just…they’re our friends…” i said pleadingly.

He dropped the file and glared at me.

“No. they’re my friends.  And I do not want to get involved. End of discussion. Now get away and let me work in peace. ” He snapped.

Like talking to a rock, I thought miserably.

“It’s not much…I just..let’s just invite them to dinner. They can at least talk to each other and…”

Yoongi slammed the file down, so hard, I jumped.

“For the last time, I do not want to get involved. these are grown men not teenage girls. They’ll work their shit out on their own. For the love of God won’t you just leave those two fucktards alone ?!” He snarled.

Chastised I got up and went back into the kitchen.

Surprisingly after three weeks I was almost used to his wild bursts of temper. At least they weren’t physical. in fact, Yoongi took particular care to never move suddenly or threateningly when i was around. it was an oddly considerate thing to do, something I hadn’t expected from my husband.

I took out a pen and my scribble pad, trying to work out some plan for dinner. I was halfway done with the dessert when I heard him at the door of the kitchen.

“What’s wrong? ” I said cheerfully and he looked surprised.

“You…You’re not angry.” It was a statement, not a question and I hummed and wiped my hand on the napkin before shrugging.

“No, I’m not. Like you said, they’re your friends, not mine. ” I said. I didn’t mean to sound bitter but I suppose it came out a little that way.

“For fuck, sake you know I didn’t mean that way…I just…If something goes wrong because of us…” He looked very uncomfortable and I sighed.

“It’;s alright. I understand. I won’t drag you into it. ” I said firmly and the relief on his face was so palpable I almost laughed.

I went back to writing out the dessert, when he cleared his throat.

“About last night…. on the podium..” He said suddenly and I froze in place. I couldn’t believe he wanted to talk about that. Mouth dry and heart pounding, I looked at him, licking my dry lips. His gaze dropped to my lips for a second and he hastily looked away.

“I…yeah. Thanks..I sort of freaked out..” I laughed nervously.

“I didn’t like it.” He said shortly.

I looked up at him.

“I’m sorry…”

“I didn’t like the way you looked up there, terrified out of your wits. It made me want to…kill someone. ” He gritted out. I stared at him, my mind in a whirl. why did this guy talk in riddles. Why was it so hard to understand what he was trying to say??

“I don’t know what to say…” I said foolishly. Or what you’re saying, you drive me insane.

“Why didn’t you tell me Yifan tried to molest you that night?” He snapped.

“I was..afraid you wouldn’t believe me. ” I said honestly and he swore underneath his breath.

“This won’t do…You know I can’t be around all the time, playing bodyguard to you, right?’ He said quietly.

i nodded. Of course I knew that.

” Go Wear some comfortable clothes . T-shirt and tracks or something. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby. Make it quick. “ He said swiftly, turning around and walking out. I blinked in surprise, because what??

But When I went out he was nowhere to be found. I sighed in defeat. Min Yoongi was so maddening I couldn’t really breathe anymore.

But I had a billion questions and only him as my source of answers so I swiftly changed into a tight t-shirt and shorts. i never wore shorts around him or anyone else for that matter, conscious of the shiny welts from old wounds but then, he’d already seen them, hadn’t he? I slipped on some comfortable shoes and quickly went out the door.

I found him waiting in the lobby and he didn’t even look at me, moving instead at a brisk pace to the elevators, while I ran a bit to keep up. In the elevator he pressed the eighth floor and about five minutes later we were in what looked like a dance studio but with a punching bag in the corner and some weights. I watched quietly and then jumped when he began taking off his clothes.

He slipped off the shirt and I turned away embarrassed but there were mirrors on all the walls and turning only showed me more skin , from every possible direction and why was it so hot in here?!

He slipped on a tight vest and flexed his shoulders casually, the movement very graceful and practiced. I tried not to stare too much at the way the fabric of his vest stretched across his lean frame. He fairly vibrated with agility and strength. I felt like a toothpick next to him.

"I’m going to teach you some self defense.” He said briskly. I stared at him in surprise.

“Really? I mean.. That’s…” amazing, wonderful, so wonderfully nice of you.

I’d always wanted to learn how to defend myself. From the time I was old enough to think. From the first time i got hit and didn’t know how to fight back.

“So, we’ll start?” He said casually. I nodded. He moved to the edge of the room and tossed his jacket on the CCTV.

“Good, get on your back on the floor. Bend your knees and spread your legs.”

What?

What?!!

“Yoongi…I..”

He rolled his eyes.

“If you’re going to go all shy and timid on me, you better leave right now. No one’s going to talk to you politely and stay a few feet away while trying to attack or rape you. He’s going to be on you, around you, pushing you down, pressing into you and touching you everywhere. That’s what you’re going to have to get used to.” He said with a shrug.

But all I heard was I’m going to be on you, around you, pushing you down, pressing into you and touching you everywhere. Get used to it.

“Okay.” I said nervously sitting down and stretching myself out on the hardwood floor, while my brain screamed, Not okay, not okay, not okay,  on repeat.

The moment I was flat on my back, he sank to his knees and crawled, grabbed the back of my knees and bent them, spreading my legs and settling between the V of my legs, one palm on each knee. His thighs pressed against the back of mine and I was pretty certain, he was doing it wrong because  I don’t think I’m supposed to feel…. good, when being attacked?  

I stared right at him, my face flaming red and I really couldn’t look anywhere else, my throat was so dry I kept swallowing .

He looked amused now.

“Why are you acting like a virgin.?” He grinned suddenly and the way it transformed his face momentarily knocked me down. Or would have, if I weren’t already flat on my back. He had the smile of an angel. Truly.

“Maybe because I’m one?” I said, annoyed. He stopped smiling and his eyebrows shot up to hit his hairline.

“No shit? you are? Well that explains a lot of things…” He shook his head in genuine disbelief.

“What’s wrong in being a virgin?” I said affronted.

He shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know because I’m the farthest thing from being one. I’ve never met one either. Ask Seokjin Hyung, I’m pretty sure he’s still one.” His eyes twinkled and I couldn’t stop the little laugh that burst out.

“That’s cruel.”

“The truth often is. Now let’s get started.” He grabbed my knee again, settled against me and I blinked rapidly, trying to moderate my breathing.

“What..What  you doing?” I yelped. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to rape you. ” He said casually , grabbing my waist and pulling me tight till the center of my shorts pressed light up against the front of his pants.

I stayed perfectly still, my brain had shut down completely.

He gave me a look.

“Should I make myself clearer? I’m trying to fuck  you. Non-consensual sex… What do you do?” He said calmly and oh my God, how can he say stuff like this with a staright face. Worse, how am I not dissolving into a puddle of embarrassment and heat right now?

Finally he reached out and flicked me on the forehead.

“You put up a fight, woman! You try to push me away…” He yelled. I snapped out of it.

I immediately pushed at his chest but he pressed down harder and the next second his body was pinning me to the floor, his chest crushing my breasts and his face pressed right against mine while his hands roamed all around my torso. Sensory overload, my mind registered as I tried to deal with the feel of his hands on my body. His scent, clean male skin and exertion and sexy, world class pheromones. My mouth began to water for some reason and I wanted to die.

He pulled away and straightened before I could fully get my bearings.

He grabbed my wrists and pulled my hand up , his fingers warm on mine as he flattened my palm against his chest. His skin felt warm to the touch, smooth but rock-hard.

“When You’re pushing , make sure your elbows are straight. If you bend them,” He used his fingers to lightly bed my arm at the elbow, “ Try pushing now.”

I did and he over powered me easily, pressing me into the floor with no effort.

“Now keep your arm straight and try.”

I did and he couldn’t push down on me. I was amazed myself .

“Wow..” I whispered, elated when I could hold him off, palms pressing between his shoulder blades as he tried to lean on me.

“Excellent.  Now, I’ll teach you how to get out from underneath me…”

The phone rang just then. He hesitated, before pulling away and jumping to his feet, moving to pick up his phone. He spoke quietly and tensely for a few minutes. When he turned back, he had a serious look on his face.

“We’ll do this again tomorrow. Go home. I’ve got some business at the club with Namjoon.” He gave me a brusque nod and grabbed his jacket before walking out without a backward glance.

I tried to stand up but my legs wouldn’t stop shaking so I plopped back down on the floor. I could still feel his fingers on me, his scent around me and the brush of his cheeks against mine.

I felt misery creep into me as i thought of what was actually happening.

I was falling for him.

And for the first time in my life I swore.

Fuck.

The Hand That Feeds - NSFW Negan Fic

This is my contribution for @grab-my-boner‘s 1k Writing Challenge. The song I chose was U + Ur Hand by P!nk.

This ties in with my fic “Through The Valley”, but can be read as a stand-alone. Obviously, Lilly and the wives except for Sherry and Amber are OCs. The events of this little story take place between Chapters 6 and 7.

Category: Shameless smut! And some angst I suppose?

Word Count: 2027

Warnings: Negan being a HUGE dick / Negan having a huge dick, heh / Negan’s filthy mouth / Smut (Oral with a sprinkle of objectophilia) / Mention of BDSM themes

Forever taglist: @rickdixonandthefandomlifeposts @kinkozan @redisunamused @lupienne @embracetheapocalypsewithme @lovingzombiechaos


The door to the empty penthouse swung open and Negan waltzed in with his wives following, albeit less enthusiastically. He made a mental note of the clothes, books and dishes cluttering the room before he was swarmed by hands, tits and various other body parts, dutifully rubbing against him and he braced himself for what was coming. Sure enough, the five women started bombarding him with a stream of “What did you get us, Negan?” and several variations thereof and it took all of his mental strength not to roll his eyes and just flee into his room.

“A whole lot of food, water and warm clothes that are going to benefit ALL of Sanctuary.”

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Masterpiece (Part 10)

It’s been two whole freaking months since I’ve updated this and I’m so thankful for every comment, reblog and like. I made sure this chapter was extra long so that none of you people would kill me (I still love each person that reads this though) and I hope you like it. My final exams are in two weeks and that is pretty scary for me but your support for this fanfiction has kept me feeling positive! Credits to @krzed for the cute idea at the end of this part! <3 (Loads of love to my Nathchlo people for giving me ideas and support. You know who you are <3)

Loads of love and hugs
vanilla107

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

Silence fell over the table and a few seconds later it was like all hell broke loose.

“She…she’s living with you?” repeated Marinette dumbstruck.

Adrien had choked on his water and was turning red from all the coughing.

Nino was trying to restrain Alya from jumping out of her seat.

“WHAT? WHEN? HOW? AND IS THIS THE SAME CHLOE WE’RE TALKING ABOUT?” Alya screamed and Nathanaël stared at the mad reporter in shock.

“Alya, calm down, babe! Let Nath explain and relax your news reporting skills,” Nino said gently rubbing her arm.

“Okay…okay okay okay okay…Nathanaël, when did this happen?” Alya said, her golden brown eyes dancing with curiosity as she regained a little self control.

Nathanaël sighed. “It’s a long story…and she’s not really living with me, she just spends the night over sometimes because her apartment needs some serious maintenance. It all happened on the night that she bumped into the four of you…”

Nathanaël retold the story and he could see Alya getting more and more interested by the minute. He omitted the special parts of that he had seen of Chloe; how she had sang with him, the pancake incident, taking her to the market for the first time, taking her to the gallery and the latest memory from that morning. When he was done he was bombarded with comments from everyone.

“I can’t believe you saved her from those three guys-!” gasped Marinette.

“Dude, you basically saved her life-” whistled Nino with a smile.

“Chloe is living in the same apartment block as you-?” Adrien repeated.

“How have you survived?” Alya whispered.

“Guys…she’s actually not that bad…she’s changed…a lot,” Nathanaël added and hoped that he wasn’t going red. It was embarrassing telling all of them about Chloe and it made it even more awkward since she was the one who made him so miserable in high school. The fact that he felt the need to stand up for her felt like the right thing to do since she really wasn’t the she-demon Alya claimed she was.

“I swear guys, Chloe pulled a total 360 and this is coming from the same guy who she bullied for most of his high school career,” he said and finished his coffee.

“Woah…that’s insane Nath…I’m not the biggest fan of Chloe…but I think it’s great that you’re giving her a second chance,” smiled Marinette.

“Agreed, I know she wasn’t the nicest person in high school but thank you, Nathanaël,” Adrien said sincerely and felt relieved that one of his oldest friends was at least being taken care of.

Nathanaël nodded and looked at Alya, who was tapping looking at him intensely.

“Okay, I believe you but…I wonder how much she’s changed…that would be an amazing story, don’t you think? ‘Mayor’s Daughter Learning To Be Grateful or-“

“-Okay Alya. I don’t think you should use Chloe’s position of vulnerability for a story,” Nino interjected and Nathanaël smiled gratefully. “From how it looked last week, Chloe just needs some alone time.”

“Yeah, sorry Alya but I think further first time, Chloe doesn’t want to be the center of attention.”

Alya’s coffee arrived and for a short period of time, the Chloe topic was dropped. Adrien had ordered cake for the table while they all caught up with each other’s lives.

Adrien and Marinette were flying with Gabriel to Italy to do a photoshoot and to meet up with one of their old friends and the up-and-coming actress, Lila Rossi. Alya was being sent to the South of France to report on a mysterious incident that had happened there a few days ago and Nino had been invited to one of the biggest music festivals in Europe, to not just DJ but he had also been invited to all the VIP parties and was going to be living the celebrity life for a week. None of them were surprised when Nathanaël said that he was planning to just paint for the next two weeks so that it could all be done for the gallery.

After a good two hours spent at the cafe, it was time for the five of them to leave.

“Thanks for lunch, Adrien, you the best, dude,” Nino said as they gave each other a pat on the back.

It was normal for Adrien to pay for them. He always insisted and it was less of a hassle if no one argued.

“I need to go fetch Chloe now,” Nathanaël said as he looked at his watch and Marinette smiled.

“Nath, is she coming to your gallery viewing? Why don’t you invite her along so that we can make her feel a little more welcome?”

Alya’s jaw dropped.

“Mari? Are you right in the head? This is thee Chloe Bourgeois. The same Chloe who stole your hat design, accused you of stealing her bracelet and wanted you arrested without any proof may I add, who blatantly insulted you with every opportunity, basically tried to bribed her way into being class representative, sabotaged your uncle’s soup and tried to wreck your relationship with Adrien multiple times!”

Marinette shrugged her shoulders.

“If Nathanaël says she’s changed then I believe him. Everyone deserves a second chance…even a person like Chloe.”

Nathanaël was a little shocked at Marinette’s suggestion and her change of heart.

He knew that Chloe was a truly awful person to Marinette when they were in high school and she had suffered the most, yet Marinette always managed to kill Chloe with kindness or figure out her plan. He was grateful for Marinette’s kind nature.

And why hadn’t he thought of inviting her? She did say that she loved art and he wouldn’t mind her at the viewing. Then he realized that he’d been so caught up with painting that he hadn’t really thought of asking her.

“Is that really a good idea, Mari? I mean I really would love to see her but…she did run out of the restaurant last week and I think we’re the last people she wants to see right now,” Adrien sighed.

“Adrien does have a point…I can’t force her to go to something she doesn’t want to go to,” he murmured and stood up from his seat.

“Well, if we’re really going through with this, why don’t you just bring it up to her later this week and give her time to think about it?” Alya said as she brushed the cake crumbs off herself. “I’m still not a fan of Chloe…but if Mari thinks Chloe deserves a second chance…then okay.”

Nathanaël nodded. “I think that’s the best idea. You guys will be at the gallery viewing, right? ”

“Of course, Nath! We’ll always support you!” grinned Marinette as she gave him a goodbye hug.

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s rumours going around that you’ll be showcasing a new painting soon…and that it’s going to be bigger than ‘Rage’…well this is according to the tabloids and we all know that can’t be trusted,” Nino grumbled.

Nathanaël sighed,“Tabloids will do anything for a story these days. I can handle it.”

At those words, the four friends smiled at the artist. Nathanaël hadn’t had it easy as a child and seeing him mature and making his own decisions made them happy.

Nathanaël checked his watch and saw that it was almost time to pick up Chloe. He smiled at his friends and started to walk with them out the cafe.

“Thank you everyone. Adrien, Marinette, I hope you have a safe trip to Italy and you too, Nino. Alya, please don’t get killed while you’re investigating, you’re more important than some story.”

“Good luck with the painting, Nath!”

“Don’t work too hard!”

“Everyone needs a break every once in awhile! Get some sleep and eat when you need to!”

“You promised me an exclusive interview after the gallery showing, Nathanaël! Don’t forget that!”

Nathanaël stepped out of the cafe and surveyed the light pink sky merging with the navy blue to form a vivid sunset.

“Time to fetch Chloe,” he murmured with a small smile as he started to walk.

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

Chloe served the four plates of burgers and chips and with a forced smile she said, “I hope you enjoy your meal. Call me if you need anything else.”

The four males looked at her up and down and Chloe felt an uncomfortable shiver go down her spine. They were all wearing sweaters for some reason (was there some sort of clearance sale? she thought) just in different colours, red, green, blue and purple. They looked like they were round about the same age as her but she felt like prey and they were the lions watching her…waiting to let her guard down so that they could pounce.

“We’ll definitely call you if we need anything else, darling,” Red Sweater said with a rather creepy grin.

Chloe nodded and walked away as quickly as possible to any other tables that needed her assistance.

Her day was not going well.

Apparently Gabriella was ‘sick’ and that left Chloe working twice as hard. Thankfully, Mr Shelley had some common sense to hire a new girl, Camila. Camila was tall and had short brown hair. She was working with Chloe and she was picking up quite fast which definitely helped her but Camila wasn’t the friendliest person.

In fact she was cold and hadn’t spoken a word to Chloe at all except the quick “hello” from that morning.

Other than that, Chloe had burned herself while making coffee (three times to be exact), had found mold growing on one of the burgers, had to deal with an impossible parent and bratty child and now these four guys who hadn’t stopped ogling her since the time they had arrived.

“Deep breaths. They’re the last customers for the evening,” she whispered to herself as she saw the second last table of people leave the restaurant with Camila cleaning their table. Chloe couldn’t wait to get home and take a long, warm shower to get the greasy feeling off her body and smell like the ocean-

Nathanaël smells like the ocean.

 She felt her face go warm and her heart beat a little faster.

No, you do not like him! It’s only been a few days! This is just a crush! Chloe Bourgeois doesn’t like Nathanaël Kurtzberg!

Chloe kept herself busy as she wiped down tables and watched the clock tick by. Finally, the Sweaters were done with their food and Purple Sweater yelled, “Just the bill, hot stuff!”

Chloe kept her anger under control and came to collect their plates and gave them their bill.

“Here you go,” she said with forced enthusiasm and waited for them to pay.

“Sorry but I think there’s something missing from the bill?” Green Sweater said as he looked at it.

He pointed to a spot and Chloe leaned closer to look at it.

“I don’t see anything wrong-? OW!” Chloe screamed as she felt a slap on her bottom.

The group of Sweater idiots laughed and high-fived each other. Chloe felt her cheeks go red with anger.

How dare they?

“What’s missing is your number, beautiful,” the Purple Sweater purred and Chloe glared at him in disgust.

“I would never give my number to creeps like you,” she growled trying to keep her voice low. She did not need Mr Shelley to storm out of his office because of these asshats trying to get her number.

“Oh C’mon, Blondie- Chloe winced at the terrible nickname “-don’t you want to have fun with some quality attention?” Blue Sweater pressed.

“I’m perfectly fine with the company I have. Now, pay the bill so that I can go home,” Chloe said trying to say it as politely and calmly as possible. They were treading on her last nerve and if they said one more idiotic thing she was going to lose it.

“We’ll just take you out for a few drinks. No harm done! And if you want to come back to our place we could-”

She snapped.

“No. Hell freaking no. I’m not going with you disgusting assholes to some sleazy bar to get me drunk and wind up at your house and do God knows what. What do you not understand?” Chloe exploded. “And what gives you the right to touch me? Were you raised by wild animals?”

The Sweaters looked furious and she felt fear spread through her body. She had never talked back to a group of strangers before and these guys were at least a good ten centimeters taller than her. She was trapped and nearly screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Please don’t let it be Mr Shelley. Please don’t let it be Mr Shelley. Please don’t let it be Mr Shelley. Please-

“Chloe,” a warm familiar voice said.

“Nathanaël,” Chloe whispered, relieved as she turned to look at him.

The look in his eyes were dark with anger and she saw his jaw tense as he looked at The Sweaters.

“Hello, Chloe. How was work?” the red-haired angel asked, seemingly oblivious to the situation she was in.

“It was okay-”

“-Until these men started to harass you?”

She could see that the more Nathanaël spoke the angrier he seemed to get with the four men.

“Yes,” she murmured.

Chloe swallowed uneasily and saw the Sweaters expressions change from anger to confusion to anger again.

“She wasn’t doing her job-” Green Sweater began but was interrupted.

“-Her job is to take your orders and serve your food. She is not for your entertainment,” Nathanaël snarled at Green Sweater. “Now, you are going to pay for the food, give her a huge tip and never come back here again,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “And if you do…let’s just say you won’t be able to walk again.”

Within minutes the bill had been paid, Chloe had received a huge tip and the Sweaters were gone. She never thought she’d seen four men so pale before until Nathanaël threatened them.

Chloe turned to face Nathanaël.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. People are supposed to fend off creepy assholes who harass other people,” he said and ran a hand through his hair and glared at the table were The Sweaters had sat.

“I’ll go say goodbye to Camila and get my stuff.”

She walked to the staff room. Camila was there, mopping the floor and looked up at Chloe before giving her a cold look and returning to her mopping.

At first Chloe wanted to snap at her. What the hell had she done so wrong to this girl, that she was treating her this way? Chloe breathed deeply and collected her bag and signed out on the employee register. She walked towards the staff room door and was about to leave when she turned to face Camila.

“Camila…You’ve been a huge help today…I don’t know how I would’ve handled this without you so…thank you,” Chloe said softly.

Camila looked up and for the first time, and surprisingly, gave her a small smile.

“I’m glad I could help. I know I haven’t been the friendliest person to you and I guess it was because I sort of developed a disliking towards you. I knew how spoilt and awful you were because I’m friends with some of the students who went to Collège Françoise Dupont and I heard all the stories.”

At those words Chloe groaned,“I know I was awful.” Camila grinned and stuck out her hand.

“Camila Vasseur.”

Chloe took it and smiled.

“Chloe Bourgeois.”

Camila’s grip was firm and warm and Chloe felt a little better about working at the restaurant if Camila was going to be working with her.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Chloe asked and Camila nodded.

“The only days I don’t work are Sundays and Mondays,” she replied.

“Okay, well a little heads up for tomorrow, since I don’t work on Wednesdays. There’s a girl named Gabriella and she is absolutely awful. Oh, and she and Mr Shelley are…close if you see what I’m trying to say…”

Chloe didn’t like the fact that she had to tell Camila this but she felt that it was the right thing to do. She didn’t want Camila to go through the same treatment that she had.

“And…stay cautious of Mr Shelley…he’s a creep.”

Camila looked at Chloe and lowered her voice.

“I assume this is coming from experience?”

Chloe nodded and memories of Mr Shelley’s hands on her waist and legs made her shiver.

“I need this job. I’ve looked at other places but I don’t have the experience required and this is the only hellhole that I can work at,” Chloe said bitterly.

Camila nodded and looked at her nails.

“I’ll gouge his eyes out if I need to. Oh, and are you leaving early?”

Chloe nodded.

“This is the one situation when having a boyfriend helps,” Chloe muttered and Camila giggled.

“I’ll try that trick if I ever need to get out early.”

“Good, see you on Thursday, Camila.” Chloe laughed and walked out the staffroom.

Chloe felt her stomach do a little flip when she saw Nathanaël leaning against a table as he read the menu.

He wore the red shirt! she thought.

Chloe felt happiness bubble inside her but she quickly shut it down.

So what if he wore the red shirt? That means nothing! The other part of her mind hissed.

“Chloe? You okay? You have this odd look on your face,” Nathanaël asked as he stopped reading the menu.

Chloe snapped out of her daze and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m okay! It was just a busy day.”

Nathanaël shrugged his shoulders and pushed open the door so that they could walk out.

“So, how was work?” he asked as they began their walk home.

Chloe retold him the events of that day and Nathanaël looked close to murdering Mr Shelley.

“You never told me that he assaulted you!”

Chloe sighed, “I need this job, Nathanaël and I looked at other places but I don’t have the qualifications.”

Nathanaël was silent for a while before he whispered, “If he ever lays another hand on you-”

“-He won’t…I’ve made sure of it.”

Nathanaël, internally, was burning with anger.

That asshole touched Chloe and she still has to work for him. He could understand why she hated him so much now.

“Nathanaël? You’ve been so quiet…” Chloe whispered and gently touched his hand.

“I’m okay…I just need time to absorb all of the information and try not to smash his face in when I see him again,” Nathanaël growled.

Chloe snickered,“Look at you, acting all boyfriend-y.”

At that comment Nathanaël’s ears went pink and that only made Chloe laugh.

“So, how was your day? Hopefully better than mine,” she grinned.

“Well, let’s just say that the red shirt does work wonders,” he replied, grinning back.

“Ha! Who gave you fashion advice? This girl! But anyway, continue.”

The rest of the walk home was Nathanaël talking about the meeting he had with the gallery manager and the commission he had received. Once they got back to the apartment, Chloe noticed that her window was fixed.

“Oh, the repairman came before I left for the meeting. Now, it’s all fixed,” Nathanaël observed as he looked at the window.

Chloe was thankful that she wouldn’t have to wake up cold anymore. She took a deep breath and turned to face Nathanaël. Her hands were sweaty and nervousness clawed at her insides.

Why did asking Nathanaël out for breakfast make her a nervous wreck?

“So…I’m not w-working tomorrow and I was wondering if you wanted to go out for breakfast? Only if you’re not b-busy of course! I-I got paid today and I’d like to repay you for everything you’ve done and I know you’re super busy with your paintings-”

“Chloe, you don’t need to do that.”

“Oh my word Kurtzberg. Can you stop interrupting me and being stubborn for a second?” Chloe scolded and Nathanaël grinned in surprise.

“Does that annoy you Chloe? When I’m stubborn and interrupt you?” Nathanaël teased.

“Yes! Now let me talk! Let me take you out. Just this once, for breakfast at your favourite place to get breakfast.”

Nathanaël thought for a moment before replying.

“No.”

Chloe hated how her heart hurt and how her stomach deflated in sadness. Why did his rejection hurt so badly? She hated that she had let her guard down and she felt like dying. Refusing to make eye contact with Nathanaël, she lowered her head and whispered, “Fine. See if I care.”

Nathanaël noticed the quick change in mood and was a little surprised at how quickly Chloe’s emotions took over.

“Chloe wait-”

“No, you said no and that’s okay. It’s not like I didn’t want to have a nice breakfast with the one person who’s shown me kindness for the past few days but I see how it is.”

Chloe put her hands on Nathanaël’s shoulders and tried to push him out of her apartment.

“Chloe let me explain-”

“-No, there’s no explanation needed.”

“Chloe stop pushing me-”

“Leave my crappy apartment, Nathanaël!”

“If you stop pushing me-”

“Why are you so damn tall and heavy you beanpole!”

“Chloe-”

“Leave!”

“-Chloe I do want to have breakfast with you!”

Chloe stopped and all she could hear was the sound of her laboured breathing and her heart beginning to beat faster.

“Y-you just said no…”

“I said no because you have other stuff to worry about than treating me to breakfast. You have to pay rent, you need clothes and toiletries and all that. I don’t want you paying for a breakfast that could possibly cost your whole salary.”

Chloe looked at him with annoyance.

“What’s your favourite breakfast place, Kurtzberg?”

Nathanaël sighed.

“It’s Eleventh Street.”

Chloe’s eyes widened and she knew that Nathanaël had caught her.

Eleventh Street was known for it’s mouth-watering food. Chloe had already gone there a few times before she hit rock bottom and she commended Nathanaël’s taste. She could still remember the scent of roasted coffee beans and blueberry pancakes would invade her senses whenever she walked in and their tastefully decorated interior made her feel right at home.

Their strawberry and red velvet crepes were the fluffiest Chloe’s ever eaten and the croque madam was simple yet filling. Their coffees were heavenly and health smoothies were the kick she sometimes needed in the morning but that was all gone now. She hadn’t been there in months and forgot how expensive it was for a whole meal for someone who was just getting paid the bare minimum.

Nevermind two people.

“Dammit,” Chloe muttered and she felt Nathanaël’s arms wrap around her and pull her into an embrace.

“Chloe, I appreciate your gesture, I really do. But I need you to focus on yourself for now, okay? There’s nothing wrong with that,” he murmured softly. Chloe slowly wrapped her arms around him and sighed.

Chloe grumbled and nodded into his chest. “Okay.”

To Chloe’s surprise, Nathanaël didn’t let go of her immediately. The hug lasted for a good minute or two and when he eventually let go of her, she was a little dizzy.

“Oh, and there’s something I’d like to talk to you about. I didn’t get to mention it earlier but maybe over dinner? I’m making Coq au Vin,” he suggested and Chloe’s stomach grumbled with hunger.

“That sounds perfect,” she agreed.

“You can shower at my place. Your pressure is still messed up, right?”

Chloe nodded, “I’ll get my stuff and take a shower while you prepare the food.

Nathanaël walked out the door and Chloe collected her pajamas and toiletries.

She liked how it had almost become a routine. Nathanaël would walk her home then invite her back to his apartment and they would have dinner together and maybe she would spend the night there. Her apartment was a little more liveable now that the window closed and she didn’t have to wake up with the cold on her face but…Nathanaël’s apartment seemed to have character and she felt more at home in his apartment than she did in hers.

Once she had everything packed she locked her apartment and walked to Nathanaël’s and opened the door. Chloe wanted to scream. Did Nathanaël Kurtzberg have any idea how attractive he looked?

His black blazer was cast aside on the couch and the sleeves to his red shirt had been rolled up to his elbows. Nathanaël’s hair was messy but she found it cute and she hated how good he looked. He was already cooking the bacon and getting ready to add in the chicken to the pot.

Chloe closed the door and she made her way to the bathroom. After a warm, relaxing shower she emerged from the steamy bathroom, smelling like the ocean and feeling like a new person. The food was simmering and the whole apartment smelled glorious. Chloe fell onto the couch and picked up one of the art magazines that was lying on the coffee table. She flipped through it while Nathanaël was still busy with browning the mushrooms and quickly began reading what other critics had to say about various pieces of artwork.

“Okay, food should be ready in the next fifteen minutes. I just need to make some phone calls to the gallery manager and by the time I’m done it should be ready,” Nathanaël informed as he closed the pot to let the food simmer.

Chloe hummed in response and he turned to look at the blonde. She had a small stack of art and design magazines on the coffee table and was reading them one by one. She was laying down on the couch with her head resting on the arm of the couch. He smiled a small smile and phoned the manager.

Once he was done walked back to the kitchen and stirred the food one more time before looking over his shoulder and saying, “Chloe, dinner’s ready.”

Chloe looked up and set down the magazines. She walked over to the table and Nathanaël dished out the food. He set down the plate of steaming stew and Chloe breathed in the smell.

“It’s smells amazing,” she said as she popped a carrot in her mouth. “And it tastes even better!”

Nathanaël grinned. “ I’m glad you like it.”

After a that, the room was filled with knives and forks scraping the plates surface and the sound of chewing. Once they were done Nathanaël poured some red wine into two glasses while Chloe packed the dishwasher with their dirty dishes.

“Wine?” Nathanaël asked as he offered her a glass and Chloe’s eyes widened.

When was the last time she had wine?

Hell, nevermind that…when was the last time she had alcohol?

Chloe was no stranger to alcohol and enjoyed the buzz she got from it but after a night of clubbing and waking up the next morning with almost no memory of the night before, in a stranger's’ bathroom, she had sworn off hard drinking. She still adored wine and cocktails but had them in moderation.

“Yes ,please,” she said quickly and Nathanaël raised an eyebrow. He wondered why her reaction was so odd but decided not to pry especially since he needed to ask her about the gallery viewing. He handed her the glass of dark red liquid and they took a seat on the couch.

“So, what was so important that you needed to invite me to dinner, Kurtzberg? I read that some murderers like to wine and dine their victims before killing them,” Chloe teased.

Nathanaël rolled his eyes and took a sip of his wine. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned murder. First it was at the gallery and now. You seem to have some twisted thought that I’m going to kill you.”

Chloe looked shocked. “No! I-I’ve just read a lot of murder mystery books, okay? When I felt sad, I read those because it sort of made me feel better?”

Nathanaël stared at Chloe.

“You read murder mysteries to make you feel better? Chloe…you are a weirdo.”

Nathanaël felt the pillow hit the side of his face and he retaliated by grabbing it and throwing it across the room. He hand a hand through his hair and looked at the annoyed blonde sitting opposite him.

“You have your art and I have my murder mysteries!” Chloe exclaimed and folded her arms across her chest.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But the reason I wanted to talk to you was about my gallery. I’d like you to be there.”

Chloe felt her heart stop.

“W-what?”

“I want you to be there Chloe. I know how much you like art now and I’d like you to see my new work. But…there’s a little more I need to tell you besides that. I had coffee with Adrien, Marinette, Ayla and Nino today.”

Hearing the names of the people who she had humiliated and who saw her covered in fries and tomato sauce made Chloe want to be sick. She swallowed uneasily.

“They spoke about you and I had to tell them how much you changed. They want to see you again, Chloe. Which is why I’m asking you if you’d like to come to the gallery viewing because they’ll be there. They mean no harm…they want to give you a second chance.”

Chloe was a tornado of emotions.

She felt anger, shame, sadness and a slight bit of relief.

She didn’t want their pity but she understood why they would feel sorry for her. She hated that they had seen her so weak and vulnerable. She was relieved that they wanted to give her a second chance but hell…there were four of them and one of her.

“You don’t have to answer right away. The gallery viewing is in two weeks so you have time to think about it okay?” Nathanaël said reassuringly. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.”

Chloe nodded and sipped her wine and the taste of berries was left on her tongue. “Okay…thanks Nathanaël. I’ll think about it.”

The rest of the time was talk about his latest paintings and preparation for the gallery viewing. Nathanaël forgot that he was still in his work clothes and he got up and stretched. The two empty wine glasses glittered on the table and he made a note in his head to try painting glasses the next day.

“I need to shower. Feel free to stay but it’s getting late and I’m sure you need some sleep. You had a crazy day.”

She hadn’t realized how tired she was until her head hit her knee because she had dozed off.

“Yes…sleep is a good idea.”

Nathanaël chuckled at the sleepy Chloe. “How about I walk you to your apartment after my shower?”

Chloe mumbled something along the lines of, “Sure.” and Nathanaël went to shower.

By the time he had finished showering and was drying his hair with a towel, he found that Chloe was asleep on his couch. He honestly should’ve known that she would’ve been sleepy after drinking the wine and having a hard day at work. Nathanaël thought of taking Chloe to her apartment but he decided against it since he didn’t want to wake her up or bump her head into any walls. After much thought he decided to carry her to his bedroom and tuck her under the covers. She wasn’t too heavy and he found it easy to slide her under the covers.

“You’ve been working so hard, Chloe…it’s admirable that you want to be independant but I’ll help you until you find a better job,” he whispered, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “I do hope you say yes…about the gallery thing. I’d love for you to be there and make amends with my friends.”

Nathanaël was quiet as he gently brushed Chloe’s cheek with his thumb and planted a soft kiss on Chloe’s cheek.

“Goodnight Chloe. Sweet dreams.”

Nathanaël switched off the light and got into bed and fell asleep. He had no idea that Chloe was still awake and that she had heard everything. He had no idea that she was internally dying because he had kissed her on the cheek.

“I hate you, Kurtzberg,” she mumbled before falling into a deep sleep.

Shameless 09

No summary.  Don’t wanna give anything away.  Don’t think there’s any real warnings for this part.

Words: 1,913

Shameless Series

Shameless 8

Originally posted by xopsychogirlxo

Not another word was spoken between the two of you between your apartment and the pizza parlor.  There was no tension between you and Bucky anymore, but the air was still thick and heavy, filled with all the unspoken words you still needed to say.  He didn’t pressure you for any further response after his confession.  He’d only asked you to not completely dismiss him until he’d been given the chance to be your friend.

Was that so unreasonable to ask of you?  To consider trying to be friends again?

Keep reading

Distance (or lack thereof) Part 5

Originally posted by lovdziubasek

Originally posted by acklesjpeg

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 

Summary: You have just moved to Santa Cruz to help take care of your parents after their recent car accident. While applying for jobs using your literature degree around the city, you decide to make some extra money at Beach City Grill. You end up with a massive crush on Priestly, but unluckily for you, your parents are strict and hate tattoos and piercings. So how on earth are you supposed to deal with all his flirting? (Plus-sized, comic nerd!Reader)


You leave work with Priestly at the end of the day. In the car on the way to his apartment, you chat about all kinds of things. Even though it’s a date, the ease with which you normally talk to each other is still there.

“So when it comes to pizza, pineapple, or no pineapple?” Priestly asks.

“Pineapple.” you reply decisively. He looks relieved.

“I’m glad you said that, because whether or not this whole thing will work was riding on your answer to that question.” He teases.

You laugh, hitting him lightly on the arm.

“Then you might like to know that I don’t like candy corn.” This causes him to throw his hands up in exasperation.

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Standing Up for You

This Feysand fic was written per this anon request! I had a really fun time writing it and this is my first finished piece that was a direct request, so thank you mysterious anon for believing in me to fulfill it! As always, please feel free to message me with any and all feedback! And also send me fic requests! These first two weeks of uni have been crazy, but I’ve been trying to write as much as I can. Happy reading!


Rhysand watched his mate saunter across the floor at Rita’s up to the bar, aware of his eyes on her even as the friends surrounding him tried to snag his attention. He was sitting low in the corner booth, one arm slung over the back of the area she had just occupied before she had whisper-slurred in his ear that she was getting them more drinks.

He had tried to pull her back down to him, insisting that no, she most certainly did not need another drink, but the vixen slipped out of his arms and went on her way. Rhys didn’t go after her, knowing that if she wanted another drink then that was what she would get, especially since she was so determined to win the drinking game against Nesta and Cassian, the champions. At least the High Lord and Lady weren’t in last place; that position belonged to Lucien and Elain unsurprisingly, whom hardly ever touched alcohol, none the less played drinking games with it. In fact, he didn’t see either of them sitting at the booth now. They must have finally realized that this game could only end up with both of their heads in toilets and snuck away when everyone else was distracted.

It was Rhys’ turn to pick the card from the deck but he was enjoying watching Feyre go on her toes to reach the bartop and lean over it, gripping the edge to keep her balanced and upright, too much to turn away. He wondered if he should have walked with her, since she hardly seemed able to stand on her own and Rhys saw the bartender shaking his head as if he couldn’t understand the slurred words she was trying to say to him.

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anonymous asked:

If you don't mind, could you do Headcannons for Akutagawa, Ranpo and Poe saying 'I love you' to their S/O for the first time? Would you mind doing gender neutral pronouns? If not then a male s/o is okay!!! Thanks (:

headcanons are typically gender neutral unless stated otherwise! i’m….hoping these don’t get super long like the ones yesterday…because there are three characters

Akutagawa Ryunosuke:

  • you don’t say it on purpose.
  • six months into your relationship, and neither of you have ever said those three words. you’re both not really the type to. he’s emotionally stunted by his notice me senpai problems curt, not the best with words, and you’re…well, you’re cautious and quiet. other members of the mafia joke that he must have done something great in his past life to deserve you, but you know otherwise. the two of you make a better match than peanut butter and jelly, and you don’t need those special three words to show for it.
  • with the two of you, it’s the small gestures that count.
  • maybe on some days he brings back your favorite flowers from the shop two blocks from his usual routes, or he checks in with you before missions and stays close enough to you after that your fingers brush
  • maybe on some days, you leave takeout on his desk because you know he can forget sometimes, or you never forget to remind him that he’s good enough and he shouldn’t believe otherwise
  • but never an “i love you”
  • it’s just not your thing
  • perhaps you both feel like it’s stating the obvious, saying what’s already known, but never have the two of you said it to each other
  • this time, though
  • this time, it just slips out
  • your heart is pounding so hard you can practically feel it in your chest, there is blood seeping through your coat, and his touch where he grips you is the only thing keeping you anchored
  • fools, he had called your enemies, they are fools for having taken you.
  • he doesn’t tell you that you were a fool for having fallen into their trap because he knows that you couldn’t have prevented it otherwise, not when this organization had been going after him
  • it’s one of the drawbacks of dating him - people find out, and people try to use you to hurt him
  • it’s just your luck, too, that you had broken your foot the week before.
  • but he came for you
  • of course he did
  • for once in your life, you had genuinely been terrified. working in the mafia has gotten you into some sticky situations before, but this time it was different. it wasn’t just you, it was him, it was the entire damn mafia, because face it, if Akutagawa was lost, there would be others who would make their move
  • but you’re also exhausted, mentally more than anything, enough for you to forget about filtering your words.
  • so
  • when you open your mouth to thank him, the words come out instead.
  • “i love you”
  • thankfully, you pass out before you can even see his reaction
  • the bad part? you miss him freezing for a full second, his ears turning red, his cheeks flushing a pretty pink, and him ducking his head and brushing his lips over your forehead and saying, “i love you too.”
  • let’s be real, he only does that because he knows you’re not awake.
  • the poor boy’s not ready for saying it to your face because he would turn into a tomato and die
Edogawa Ranpo
  • aw look at this cutie
  • this overenthusiastic, super intelligent, absolutely shameless cutie
  • on the cutie scale i would rate him 10/10 would cutie again except points taken off because he has an ego and he can just be so damn loud
  • which is exactly why it surprises absolutely no one when they learn exactly how early on Ranpo first said those three words.
  • okay, maybe you had been surprised, because you really hadn’t been expecting it and he knows, that smug bastard - he probably planned it out that way so he could always hold it above your head by reminding you that yes, he can be sweet when he wants to be. sweet as in pure, teeth-rotting sweet.
  • well, it was more spontaneous than anything
  • it was after a long day of work - overtime, you say later, irritation coloring your words, only for him to laugh and push your head into the pillows, can you believe it
  • most workplaces have you sign up for overtime
  • not at the Agency
  • Fukuzawa suggests it, and everyone knows that he means otherwise.
  • your hair is pushed away from your face for convenience, your hands are tired from filling out papers, sticking pins on maps, typing up reports - everything that could have possibly went wrong that day did go wrong (it’s Murphy’s Law, Ranpo declares, and you try to chuck something at him but are stopped by Kunikida and Atsushi) - and you just want to go home and make yourself a hot bowl of soup and go to bed
  • you’re not the best at taking care of yourself
  • and let’s be real, he isn’t either. he doesn’t even know how to go around with trains, for crying out loud
  • but that’s off topic
  • you just want to go home and have some nice, hot soup, and Ranpo knows, so he takes all the paperwork from your desk when you’re not looking and gives it all to Atsushi - the poor boy, but he lets him to it because he obviously knows what’s happening
  • the whole office probably does, now that you think about it
  • or, like, maybe they’re just completely exhausted
  • you know you are
  • but Ranpo takes your hand and he just drags you out of there, ignoring your protests, and takes you to the closest station and stands there staring at the map with such concentration on his face you wonder if he’s actually trying to learn how these things work for once in his life
  • you end up having to help him
  • obviously
  • when you ask about it later, leaning against your kitchen counter watching him solve a Rubik’s cube, Ranpo says so casually that you almost miss it, “well, it’s because i love you and wanted to help.”
  • you’re speechless
  • it’s a sweet incentive, but Ranpo fails so terrifically that the two of you decide that it’s a better idea to leave his inability to use public transportation alone as it is
Edgar Allan Poe
  • first off, you’d like to begin by stating that while you don’t hate Poe, you find his tendency to accidentally drag you along with him into his books is getting a little frustrating
  • and yes, you’re saying this because you can never solve the damn mysteries
  • it bothers you to no end, because you have always prided yourself in your ability to solve murders, and his books always involved those
  • maybe it’s because he solves it faster than you do - which is because he wrote the stories, which isn’t fair, he should at least give you a chance -
  • you tell him that one day, when a new book is sitting open on your bed and he’s explaining it to you with such animation to his gestures that you feel bad for interrupting
  • and when the book starts to glow that gold, your stomach plummets and you try to scramble back but for some reason he’s pulling you in
  • he looks almost apologetic
  • okay, that’s a lie, he’s absolutely apologetic
  • you think that it was supposed to be some sort of grand plan he was trying to pull it off
  • some sort of surprise for you, most likely
  • you know this because he caves about five minutes into this new world he had created, barely after you had managed to reorient yourself, the words spilling out of him like a confession
  • you’re almost amused
  • (Karl leaps from his shoulders to yours, situating himself comfortably on the obviously more stable of the two, as in you’re the one moving less and the one who’s more amused about the way things are turning out than Poe is)
  • “so,” you say, interrupting Poe before he can get both of you murdered for standing around too long, “what you’re saying is that this is a mystery only i can solve?”
  • he had known, then
  • Poe nods, posture wary, and when you smile he relaxes so obviously that it makes you laugh
  • “let’s get on with it, then,” you say, and you’re not really surprised - you find yourself happy, even excited - as you navigate your way through the entire plot
  • it presents you a challenge, and by the time the book expels the two of you, you’re sprawled across your bed with a faint smile on your face
  • it’s the kind of smile of someone who’s forgotten that they’re wearing one but not doing much to get rid of it once they realize
  • also
  • you end up falling asleep
  • how could you not? Poe dragged you into that adventure around midnight, because it’s the only time when he conquers his shyness and shares his newest creations with you
  • you don’t blame him
  • but you also miss the way his lips curl into a tentative smile, his fingers brush through your hair, and he says, almost awed, “i love you.”
  • he says it now because he realizes just how far his feelings for you go, after watching you and the confidence you had in yourself as you solved the mystery, and he’s not sure if he should be worried about what it means or not
Imagine Lex taking you out on his motorcycle to help calm you down when you’re stressed and can’t sleep...

A/N: This is my first imagine and it’s a shameless self-insert because I’M ALWAYS STRESSED AF and I haven’t seen any motorcycle!Lex imagines. Also, I love cities at night. I probably also took liberties with Metropolis… oh well. Feedback is welcome- hope you enjoy! This certainly made me feel better writing it. 

Warnings: Language (?); there also isn’t a ton of dialogue, sorry :( 

Word Count: ~930

You stared at the ceiling of your bedroom, watching the fan spin. The light coming in from the city through your blinds made it cast odd shadows as it spun and you grabbed your phone from the nightstand next to you.

12:48. Goddammit.

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His Mission

Writing Prompt from @charlesdances​ : 

Aight how about your take on how Tarkin got fatally wounded via blaster fire. How/when/where it happened is totes up to you! My only input would be at some point he only notices it because someone pointed it out (up to you who it is as well could be just a trooper/officer/etc) and him looking at it and just being disdained and saying ‘oh for kriff’s sake’ before fainting. Then we get to also see what happens afterwards when he wakes up in a med bay somewhere. He’d probably be like 'how long was I out?’ before getting really riled up because he’s been out for a week and he tries to get up only to be reprimanded by the nurse in charge XD

His Mission 

“This is not how a reconnaissance mission is supposed to go, General Skywalker,” Tarkin sighed, showing a mere fraction of the annoyance he felt at the dire situation.

Their odds of survival were irritatingly low and it was all because of General Skywalker’s bumbling bravado which signaled every droid in the Separatist Base to their presence.

“Relax, Captain,” Anakin said, with an infuriatingly easy smile. “My mission was to be your your bodyguard during this recon and I’ve never failed a mission.”

“And yet here we are in a predicament where my body is, indeed, not being very well guarded,” Tarkin replied, sourly. “Also, you should not tempt fate with such statements.”

Ironically, Tarkin and Anakin were forced back into the very warehouse Tarkin was entrusted to investigate. The Captain could not help but smirk at discovering that the Separatists had indeed been the ones to steal several y-wings and munition caches from under the Republic’s nose. It was a pity he would not survive to relay the information to Chancellor Palpatine.

Another unit of B1 battle droids appeared on the upper catwalk of the warehouse, lining up with blasters all trained on the two intruders. 

The lower deck was similarly filled with B1’s, peppered with deadly B3 droids, their deadly gauntlets pointing past Anakin, directly at Tarkin.

Ready,” shouted the yellow-accented B1 captain.

Roger Roger,” shouted the rest of the droids.

Anakin put himself between the droids and Tarkin, igniting his light blade. “Go hide in that crate over there, Captain. I’ll take care of them.”

“Absolutely not,” Tarkin balked, stepping aside and drawing a second blaster from his thigh holster. “I am not entirely helpless, general. I am a captain for a reason.”

Aim!” Commanded the captain.

Roger Roger!” Came the mechanical chorus.

“Suit yourself,” Anakin shrugged, “but as your bodyguard I advise-”

“This is not a Republic courtroom, Anakin,” Tarkin snapped. “Stop advising and ready yourself.”

Anakin frowned at Tarkin. “Ready for what?”

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