#...it's something you can laugh off and forget...

[heavenlybodies333]

Acting on your worst behavior -S.R part I here

Spencer Reid x Hotch’s daughter!reader

You’re late.

You’re shaking.

And you’re pissed off at the world in that way that only heartbreak can make you.

Your bag’s half-zipped, makeup tossed in without care, your outfit borderline inappropriate for the temperature but perfect for the frat house theme party you were headed to. Glitter on your collarbone, a gloss on your lips that wasn’t there fifteen minutes ago.

It’s been three weeks since Hotch forced it to end. Since Spencer stopped answering your texts. Since he started following the rules and you started breaking every single one you could.

Because fuck it, right? If you’re already going to hell, you might as well enjoy the way down.

Your crop top was too tight, your skirt too short, your pupils too blown to be sober. You hadn’t slept more than four hours total this week, and your body was running purely on adrenaline, prescription stimulants, and whatever trauma your daddy issues were metabolizing into fuel.

And speaking of…

You don’t even hear the door open—you’re too focused on digging your keys out of the bottom of your bag when you sense him behind you. You felt the soft pressure of a hand settle against your lower back. Familiar. Intimate. Unwelcome.

You jumped, turning around too fast, heart hammering.

Spencer.

Of course it was Spencer. He stood there, all unreadable intensity, curls still damp from the rain and his FBI windbreaker slung halfway up his forearm like he’d rushed over. Like he’d been worried.

You blinked at him, blood fizzing with panic and stimulants. “What the hell, Spence?” you snapped. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” His voice was low, careful. His eyes scanned your face. “You okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just late.”

He frowned, stepping closer. You took a step back.

“I’ve been calling you.”

“I’ve been busy.” You turned away from him, digging harder into your bag for your keys. “Maybe you should call your new academy girlfriend instead.”

There it was. He’d known when he agreed to go out for drinks with Prentiss and JJ that they were trying to get his mind off you and introduced him to an old colleague that she’d gone to training with.

He stiffened. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah I bet.” You finally yanked your keys free, too hard. Something else flew with them—shit—a prescription bottle clattered to the floor between you.

You both froze. You dove for it, but he was faster. He picked it up and turned it over.

“No stop—” you reached, but he was already turning it over in his hand. His sharp eyes scanned the label in a flash, and then slowly, slowly lifted to yours.

His whole expression changed—concern melting into something furious. “Are you serious right now?”

“Give it back.” You reached for it. He held it out of your reach.

“This isn’t even your prescription—”

“Leave me alone.”

“This is Adderall.”

You tried to snatch the bottle from his hand. “Wow. What a genius deduction, Dr. Reid. Must be that PhD at work.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Why do you care?”

He stepped in closer. “Because you’re shaking.”

You barked a bitter laugh. “No shit. I’m running late.”

“You’re tweaking. Your pupils are huge and your hands won’t stop moving and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Jesus Christ, Spencer.” You yanked the bottle from his hand, shoving it back into your tote like a cornered animal. “Mind your own business.”

“You are my business,” he snapped. “Or did you forget that part when you decided to pop pills from some horny frat boy who probably thinks Cocaine is a cocktail garnish?”

You scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who fucked me in Quantico’s security camera blind spot and then ghosted because my dad told him to.”

Spencer’s mouth opened slightly. “That’s what this is about?”

“This is about everything,” you hissed. “You left me. He punished me. And now you’re back out there playing golden boy while I rot in fucking cold case hell and try to keep up with a double course load while my body’s falling apart—”

He grabbed your wrist.

“Look at me,” he said, voice softer now. “You don’t have to do this.”

Your eyes flashed. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell’s going on with you. Because you’re not the girl I knew. And if this—” he motioned to the pills “—is how you’re coping, then I’m not letting it go.”

“I’m not yours anymore,” you snapped. “You made that very clear.”

“You’re taking someone else’s amphetamines,” he said flatly. “Do you have any idea—”

“I said drop it.”

His voice was low now. Dangerous. “How long?”

You didn’t answer.

He stepped forward, jaw tight, voice clenched like a fist. “How long have you been using?”

You glared at him. “I don’t owe you anything.”

He scoffed, eyes dark. “Bullshit. You owe me everything. I got thrown into that meeting with Strauss for you. I got suspended. I defended you. I loved you—”

“Oh, spare me,” you snapped. “You loved the idea of me. Until my dad gave the word and you folded like a fucking lawn chair.”

You avoided his eyes. Your heart was beating too fast. Every sound, every light felt sharp.

“How long?” He repeated, stepping closer, voice trembling with fury.

“Stop it, Spencer,” you muttered. “Just stop. You don’t get to care.”

His jaw locked, breath shallow. “Are you high right now?”

“No,” you lied. “I haven’t even taken one today.”

“Jesus Christ.” He raked a hand through his hair, stepping back like he couldn’t look at you without catching fire. “You’re lying to my face.”

“I’m still going to that party,” you say, voice breaking.

Spencer’s face twitched. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You tilted your head. “Do what I want for once?”

“You’re high, you’re spiraling, and you’re trying to push me away so you don’t have to feel what you’re actually feeling.”

“No.” You stepped up to him, chest brushing his. “I’m trying to get to a fucking party. You remember what it’s like to have friends, don’t you?”

You grab your bag, shove past him, before pressing the elevator button as the doors ding open you say one last thing, “Don’t follow me, Dr. Reid.”

You’d managed to reapply your gloss with shaking hands in the car, snort a line in the driveway, and flirt your way through the front door of Kappa Psi like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

You were spiraling.

Even worse, you knew it—and you didn’t care.

Frat lights flickered in and out of focus. Someone shoved a Solo cup in your hand. You couldn’t remember who. You drank it anyway. Another pill got pressed into your palm. It wasn’t the usual blue you trusted. It was pink. Oval. Something you didn’t recognize.

You took it anyway.

Fifteen minutes later you were in an alley behind the frat house, curled into yourself with your back against the cold brick wall and your phone shaking in your hand. Everything was spinning—lights bleeding into your eyes, stomach turning over like it was trying to reject your entire existence.

You tried to dial someone else first—your roommate maybe? You weren’t even sure. You misdialed. Twice.

Then, like muscle memory, your thumb hovered over his name. Spencer Reid.

It rang once. Twice.

He picked up immediately.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t speak. Not at first. You were crying, but you couldn’t feel the tears. Your teeth chattered as you opened your mouth and tried to say his name, but it came out broken.

“Hey—hey, slow down.” Spencer’s voice was tight, urgent. “Where are you? What’s happening?”

You could hear him moving, grabbing keys, door slamming.

“S’cold,” you slurred, chest hiccuping. “I—I think I messed up, Spence—”

“You’re okay,” he said, voice shaking now. “But I need you to tell me what you took. Did you take something new? What was it?”

“I don’t know—somebody gave it to me—said it was fine—I didn’t know, I didn’t—”

You dropped the phone. It clattered onto the pavement as you leaned forward and threw up violently, hands scraping at the rough ground. You coughed, heaved, vision swimming.

He was already in the car, his phone running the trace Garcia had sent to him—last known ping, three blocks behind Sigma Chi, the back side of the fraternity garage cluster that faced the woods.

He didn’t breathe right the whole ride.

Didn’t think—because if he thought, he’d see the worst: you unconscious in a gutter, your pulse weak, a toxicology report that ended careers and broke your father’s soul.

He skidded to a stop when he reached the alley.

His headlights caught the outline of a slumped figure just beyond the garage.

You.

You were collapsed on your side, your dress riding high on your thigh, knees scraped from falling, your arms braced against the concrete as you tried—and failed—to keep yourself from heaving again.

“Jesus,” he whispered, throwing the car into park and sprinting.

“Hey—hey, I’m here,” he said, hand trembling as it swept your hair from your face. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Your head lolled toward the sound of him, tears shining down your cheeks.

“S-Spence,” you croaked, voice raw. “Wasn’t mine. It was… pink. M’stupid. M’sorry—””

“Shh.” His hand cupped your cheek, feeling your skin clammy, your pulse fluttering in your neck like a dying bird. “No apologies. Just breathe for me.”

You gagged again, body trembling with the withdrawal crash—your nervous system overloaded from the Adderall, the Valium trying to slow it, whatever the hell someone slipped into your cup pulling the strings in every wrong direction.

Spencer steadied your shoulders as you retched, rubbing your back with long, slow strokes with one hand while fumbling for his phone with the other.

“I need a bus to west block 3200,” he said into the speaker. “Twenty-two-year-old female. Drug interaction. Unclear substance. Not stable. Yes—I’ll keep her conscious.”

Your fingers clutched his jacket like a lifeline. He swore under his breath as he looked at you—your dilated pupils, your dry lips, your too-quiet whimpers.

“What the hell are you doing to yourself?” he whispered into your hair. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

The ambulance showed up fast, too fast for Spencer to process what it meant—how serious this was, how you could’ve died if he hadn’t picked up, if you hadn’t called him at all. They got you on a stretcher with practiced ease, medics asking rapid-fire questions he barely heard over the roaring in his ears.

What did she take?

How much?

How long ago?

As they lifted you into the back of the ambulance, your hand briefly caught his wrist, weak and cold.

“Don’t leave,” you murmured, barely audible.

“I’m not,” he said, climbing in beside you. “I’ve got you.”

He held your hand the entire ride to Dale City Hospital.

And then, when the doors opened, reality came rushing in—gurney wheels rattling across linoleum, beeping machines, harsh fluorescents. Nurses asking for your name, your ID, your emergency contact.

Spencer swallowed hard.

Hotch.

He stepped into the quietest corner he could find and pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered, then pressed call.

Hotch answered on the second ring.

“Reid?”

Spencer exhaled shakily. “She’s at Dale City General. She was drugged. There was… more going on than I thought. A lot more.”

Reid could hear Hotch taking a deep breath trying to control his temper, “How bad?”

“She’s unconscious. Breathing, stable for now, but she’s—she was high on multiple substances. Some she didn’t even know she took.”

The silence on the other end was brutal. Then: “I’m on my way.”

Spencer didn’t move for a long moment after the call ended. He just stared down at the tiled floor, jaw clenched, hand still faintly shaking.

Within twenty minutes, the team was there. Hotch arrived first, face grim, then Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ trailing behind him. The sight of them hit like a cold wave. Spencer stood when he saw Hotch approach the nurses’ station, asking for your name in a voice tight with rage.

“They’re still pumping her stomach,” Spencer offered quietly. “She was in the alley behind the frat garages. It looked like she took ecstasy, probably some downers, and she’s still detoxing off amphetamines. Maybe benzos too. She’s been… hiding it.”

Hotch’s jaw ticked. “Where are her things?”

Spencer blinked. “They… they brought it in with her.”

Hotch was already walking toward the nurses' station.

JJ reached for his arm. “Aaron—”

He didn’t stop. “I need my daughter’s belongings. Her name’s on the record.”

The nurse looked at him warily, but one look at his badge—SSA Hotchner—was all it took. She returned with a large clear plastic evidence-style bag.

He took it without a word and moved to the side, his team trailing behind. He unzipped it.

Silence.

Inside: a tangle of makeup, loose change, a cracked phone.

And the pills.

Not bottles. Baggies. Not just Adderall. Coke. Valium. A pressed pill that looked like MDMA. Xanax bars. Something in blister packs without a label.

Morgan’s jaw locked. “Jesus.”

Hotch’s fingers closed around the baggies like they might shatter in his grip.

“You’ve gotta stay calm,” Morgan said gently, stepping in. “She’s not going to get better if you lose it now.”

Hotch’s voice was razor-edged. “She’s twenty-two.”

“I know.”

“She could’ve died.”

“I know.”

He turned to Spencer, eyes dark. “Did you know?”

Spencer’s face was raw. “Not like this. I—I found one prescription bottle earlier tonight. I confronted her. She lied. I followed her to the party—she called me crying from an alley and I couldn’t even understand her.”

Hotch stared at him, rage and heartbreak flashing in his eyes. “So you knew. You knew, and you let her walk away.”

“I tried to stop her.”

“You should’ve called me then.”

“I didn’t think she’d—” Spencer caught himself. “I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head slowly, mouth set in a grim line. Spencer opened his mouth. Closed it. “I didn’t know it was this bad. I—I knew she was struggling, but I thought it was just the Adderall.”

Hotch’s voice dropped, low and furious. “You thought.”

“She lied to me too, Aaron,” Spencer snapped back. “I found a prescription bottle tonight that wasn’t hers and tried to stop her from going out, but she wouldn’t listen. She ran.”

“She ran because she’s scared,” JJ said gently, stepping between them. “Because everything in her life feels like it’s falling apart. And I know you’re angry, Hotch, but—”

Hotch said nothing more. He sat down in the waiting room chair, your bag of evidence still in his hands, like he couldn’t let go of it until you answered for it.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was how dry your throat felt—raw, stripped of moisture. You blinked into harsh hospital light, trying to orient yourself. Your tongue felt thick. Your stomach roiled.

And then, like a curtain pulling back, you saw him.

Your dad.

In the chair beside the bed, elbows on knees, his expression unreadable.

You groaned, immediately dragging the blanket over your head.

“Fuck.”

“Save it,” he said. His voice didn’t rise. That somehow made it worse.

You swallowed hard. Your hands trembled in your lap.

“I don’t remember much,” you rasped.

“That’s the problem.”

Silence.

You peeked at him through your lashes. “Are you mad?”

“No,” Hotch said tightly. “I’m furious.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Where’s my bag?”

He didn’t answer.

That was your answer.

Your stomach dropped like a stone.

“Oh my god.”

He stood and slowly approached the bed, pulling something from the chair behind him.

The clear bag.

The pills.

You turned your face away in shame.

“Do you want to explain this?” he asked, holding it up.

“No.”

“You’re going to,” he said. “You’re going to explain all of it. Why I had to get a call from Reid in the middle of the night saying you were unconscious behind a goddamn frat house. Why I had to watch a nurse hand me a bag full of narcotics with my daughter’s name on it.”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?”

“I didn’t know what it was—”

“But the rest of it? The coke? The benzos? The Adderall that isn’t even prescribed to you?” He held the bag tighter. “You didn’t ‘mean’ that either?”

You bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood.

Hotch stepped closer. “You could’ve died.”

“I know.”

“No. I don’t think you do. You have no idea what that would’ve done to me. To Jack. To Spencer.”

He stared down at you, jaw flexing. “You’re going to get help. You don’t have a choice.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back fresh tears. “And if I say no?”

He didn’t blink. “Then you don’t go back to school. You don’t go back to Quantico. You don’t go anywhere but rehab. Understood?”

You didn’t answer.

He dropped the bag back onto the tray with a hard thud and walked to the door.

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

And you lay there, eyes burning, heart hammering against your ribs, alone in the silence of your consequences. And from knowing that maybe this time… you went too far.

a/n: I’m in therapy y’all this is just how I cope plz don’t b alarmed😭

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [8] - Diplomacy

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: The first day of work can be stressful.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning.

Word Count: 4381

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was exactly what the first day of school used to feel like.

You couldn’t stop the sigh leaving your lips as you stared up at the Capitol Building, trying to ignore the anxiety churning your stomach. You knew you were supposed to go in, but somehow your legs refused to listen to you, so you exhaled slowly the way your therapist had taught you to get at least some sort of—

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

You jumped out of your skin, then pressed a hand over your chest and glared at Bucky.

“What did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“In my defense, you looked pretty out of it already.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And as I said; not too late to change your mind. We can still leave.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “So we just forget about the Congress and everything and go away?”

He grinned. “Mm hm.”

“Where?”

“Brooklyn.”

You tilted your head. “Except that Brooklyn elected you as their representative, I feel like they’d ask what the hell you’re doing there.”

“You make a good point,” he said and thought for a moment. “Okay, new plan.”

“I’m listening.”

“We get new names and identities, move to a small town where no one knows us, and grow old and gray there in peace. We never check the news, ever.”

Your heart skipped a beat but you tried to focus. “Do we have to change Alpine’s name too?”

“I don’t think she’d let us,” he said, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “She missed you, by the way.”

This was not flirting.

This was just friendly. That was it. Two friends talking.

About running away together.

“I missed her too,” you said. “How does she like your new place?”

“She doesn’t,” he murmured before turning to glance at the building. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“Yes.”

You repressed a laugh and bumped your shoulder against his.

“Come on,” you said as you started walking with him next to you. “Today is your day, and you’re gonna be very busy.”

“Yeah, the schedule was pages long,” he said. “I have meetings with people I don’t even know about.”

“Think of it like your debutante ball,” you told him. “They all want to see if you’re the right fit for them, how much dowry you have, and if they can bed you.”

“Please talk to me about something else.”

“Okay. “You shrugged your shoulders. “Onto some heartwarming news; I told Max to go fuck himself last night.”

Bucky frowned. “Hold on, he’s still calling you?”

“I called him,” you said. “He got the apartment after I prepared my boxes and stuff, and I paid the movers extra so that they would move everything without me being there, but apparently Max went through my boxes even if he refuses to admit it, because Blinky is not in any of them.”

“Who’s Blinky?” He paused for a moment. “Or what is Blinky?”

“Blinky is my childhood plushie,” you said. “It’s a fox plushie with one eye, the other eye fell off on the first day, that’s why I named him that. I took him everywhere I moved, and guess what? Max refuses to give him back.”

“Well, that’s interesting information.”

“I know, right?” you asked as you both walked into the building and held up your IDs to go through the security even if Bucky didn’t need to do that. “He claims he hasn’t seen him, but I’m so sure he hides him somewhere in the apartment.”

“You have a toy?”

“It’s a plushie.”

“It’s a toy.”

“It’s a plushie—you know what, I’m not going to stand in the Capitol hallway to argue semantics about my nostalgic childhood plushie with you,” you said while Bucky grinned at you. “You have one thousand things to do and so do I, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That wiped his grin off his face. “Wait, tomorrow? You’re not gonna be around?”

“I’ll be gone all day.”

His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Birdie, no—”

“I have the orientation, I’ll have to meet everyone and stuff, and apparently there’s this tour… It’ll be chaotic. Kels will be with you though, and Caleb as well.”

“But it wouldn’t take you all day,” Bucky tried to convince you as if you were the one who planned the schedule. “What are they going to do, make you tour the place twice? Just tell them you have stuff to do.”

“This is my stuff to do.”

“So you’re leaving me alone with these people?”

You tried not to laugh at the look of betrayal on his face.

“These people are going to be your colleagues,” you reminded him. “So you need to make friends with them. You don’t need me for that.”

“I do need you for that, actually,” he argued. “I don’t…I don’t make friends.”

“Fine, don’t make friends with them, just be civil. You charmed half of Brooklyn, remember?”

“Because you were there.”

“You’ve been through literally the hardest things anyone can go through—”

“To repeat, none of those things required making friends. Or socializing for that matter.”

“You’ll be fine, and I’ll drop by the office if I can,” you assured him. “But remember. Diplomacy. That’s the currency here.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

You took a step to leave, then turned around again to look at him.

“I feel like this goes without saying when it comes to diplomacy, but do not glare at or threaten anyone.”   

Bucky stared at you as if you had just asked him whether Alpine could fly and you pursed your lips, then rolled your shoulders back.

“It’s gonna go great,” you muttered to yourself as you started walking again. “Diplomacy, here we come.”

                                      *

Okay, you expected today to be chaotic, but you did not know it would be this chaotic.

It felt like for the whole day you had been running to one place or the other, and by the time you had found some time to yourself, it was way past lunch time. You had about half an hour until the next item on the schedule so you figured you could drop by Bucky’s office to talk to Kelsey and Caleb and see how Bucky was doing so far.

When you entered the office, most of the team was busy with either their phones or laptops, but Caleb and Kelsey were watching Bucky’s closed door, having a discussion in whispers. You tilted your head, then made your way to them.

 “Is everything okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Caleb asked. “My orientation lasted all day.”

“Mine will too, I just got a break—what is happening?”

Kelsey licked her lips. “Guess who asked for a last minute meeting with Bucky.”

“Who?”

“Amos Drexel.”

Your stomach dropped and you gawked at her. “Sorry?”

“I think you guys are the only people who know this person.”

 “I’ve been memorizing everyone’s faces and names and titles since the election night,” she said. “And trust me, people know who he is. People in high places, if you know what I mean.”

“Kels, he’s just a consultant.”

Kelsey scoffed. “He’s not just a consultant, Caleb.”

“A lobbyist.”

“Lobbyists come and go, this guy has been bribing and extorting the politicians for like, decades. He has half of them in his pocket.”

“I feel like I would’ve heard about him,” Caleb said and Kelsey shook her head.

“He’s too smart for that,” she said. “It’s easier for him if the public thinks he’s just a consultant. But trust me, every single politician here knows about him.”

“What is he doing here?” you asked, your heartbeat getting faster as you stole a look at the closed door. “I checked Bucky’s schedule this morning, he wasn’t there.”

“As I said, last minute meeting,” Kelsey said. “What was I supposed to do when Drexel wanted to see him, ask him to reschedule? I squeezed him in.”

“If he tries to bribe Bucky, I feel like he might kill him.”

“Obviously but that’s not the point,” Kelsey said while you grabbed her penholder so that you could do something with your hands. “The point is, if Drexel is here, it means he wants to—”

You dropped the penholder as soon as the door opened, and you ducked under the desk to gather the pencils as he passed by the desk.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barnes.” You heard him say as he walked out of the door and you put all the pens into the holder, then got up from under the desk, letting out a breath.

Bucky looked absolutely furious as he glared in the direction he had disappeared into before his eyes found yours, his gaze softening in a second. You gave him a tightlipped smile and put the holder on the desk—

And the rest of the room turned to the door again.

“Almost forgot.” His voice reached your ears, making your whole body tense up. “Honey? Your mom wants to know if you’re free for dinner next weekend.”

Oh.

Oh he had planned this.

Of course he did. He knew every schedule in this goddamn place, and he knew the moment you had a break, you’d come straight to Bucky’s office.

You forced yourself to ignore the whole team and Bucky staring at you, your cheeks burning in humiliation as you turned around to glare at your father who was standing by the door with a calm smile on his face.

“Make sure to text her please,” he told you. “Have a great first day.”

Then he walked away, leaving the whole office in a stunned silence.

You could feel the tears of frustration burning the back of your eyes but this was neither the time nor the place. You blinked a couple of times, clenching your jaw and then made a beeline into Bucky’s office with Caleb and Kelsey rushing after you. Kelsey closed the door behind her and you licked your lips, taking a deep breath.

“I can explain that—”

“He’s your father?” Caleb asked and you cleared your throat.

“Well…”

“Why is your surname different?”

“How is he your father?” Caleb and Kelsey asked at the same time and you cleared your throat.

“I’ve been asking the same question to my mother for ages now.” You tried to joke as you stole a look at Bucky who was just watching you with an unreadable look on his face.

“Your father is Amos Drexel and you still have roommates?” Kelsey asked, motioning at herself and Caleb, and you shook your head fervently.

“I’m broke.”

Caleb scoffed. “Oh come on—”

“No, I am.” You pulled your phone out to open up your bank app, then showed the screen to them. “See? Totally broke.”

That seemed to have snapped Bucky out of the haze he was in. “Wait, you need money?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head fervently. “No I don’t.”

Caleb stared at your phone screen. “How is that even possible?”

“I got myself a separate bank account when I was eighteen,” you said. “I wouldn’t touch his money with a gun to my head, I know where it comes from. And before you ask, I won’t touch it when he dies either, it will go straight to charity.”

“And he’s okay with that?”

“Not at all but he ignores it, just like he ignores how I’ve been begging him to disown me for years,” you said and turned to Bucky. “Please say something.”

Bucky just held your gaze for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Your surname is different?”

“I changed it to my mother’s maiden name the day I turned eighteen,” you said. “You should’ve seen the paperwork.”

Bucky pointed at the door. “Birdie, I just told your father to go to hell.”

“You—” Kelsey’s eyes widened. “You told him to go to hell?”

“With different words.”

“What words?”

Bucky raised his brows, then motioned at her and you. “You two are here, I can’t exactly say what I said.”

“Bucky how many times must we tell you that people can curse around—” Caleb started but Kelsey cut him off, throwing her head back to look up at the ceiling like she was asking for help.

“Jesus, we’re not gonna last a term.”

“Would he assassinate him?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No one is going to assassinate me, Caleb.”

“Hypothetically, would it even count as assassination if he killed you?”

“No.”

“I was going to say who died and left you in charge of assassinations, but I think everyone in this room knows the answer—”

“Bucky, I don’t think you understand,” Kelsey insisted. “Let’s say you’re Aragorn, this guy is Sauron!”

You made a face.

“He’s not Sauron, his power does have a limit.” You paused for a moment. “He’s Saruman at best.”

“Thanks, that makes it so much better—”

“Can we have the room?” Bucky cut her off and Kelsey and Caleb exchanged glances, then left the office. You could feel the anxiety churning your stomach but you swallowed thickly, keeping your eyes on him.

“Bucky…”

“Why not tell me?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Would you have hired me?”

He frowned. “Of course I would.”

“And how would that go? Here’s my resume, oh by the way, my father bribes and extorts politicians for a living?” you asked. “See, I don’t think you would.”

“So your solution was to keep it a secret? Even after we—” He stopped himself. “Even after we started working together?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I couldn’t just tell you,” you said. “Listen, I wanted to work in politics, and…”

“And you could’ve easily got a job here,” Bucky told you. “You didn’t have to wait until I got elected.”

“Do you think that’s why I’m doing this?” you asked. “Bucky, I don’t want to work for a politician who is only gonna hire me because of my father, he stands for the opposite of everything I believe in—”

“And it’s been like that from the beginning?” he asked, making you pull back. “From the first minute we started working together?”

When the realization crashed down on you, it tightened your throat like a fist.

“You don’t believe me,” you muttered, biting inside your cheek and he let out a breath.

“Birdie, listen—”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “The next time you accuse me of working for my father, or—or having anything to do with his corruption, I will walk away, Bucky. I’ll pick one of the many job offers being thrown at me from someone who’s not in my father’s pocket -surprisingly, there are still some of those- and I’ll go and work for them. So I guess the question you should be asking is, do you really want that to happen?”

With that, you stormed out of the office and made your way to the stairs without sparing anyone a glance, your heart still pounding in your chest.

                                                 *

Well needless to say, as far as first days went, that one was not so good.

You had gone straight home after work without dropping by Bucky’s office again. Caleb came home an hour after you, and Kelsey was the last one to arrive, and they had a lot of questions.

At least they had both brought booze and snacks.

And now, way past midnight, all of you were sitting on the floor, still drinking and snacking but the air felt much lighter.

“I just want to say, Birdie,” Caleb said. “Even if your father is a demon sent from hell to bribe politicians, we love you.”

“Aw, thanks Caleb.”

“Can I also point out that,” Kelsey said, reaching for some chips, “it sure is weird that we have a TV, a fucking gramophone—”

“No badmouthing my gramophone, Kels.”

“But we don’t have a couch?”

“We’ll buy a couch,” you said, throwing a piece of chocolate in air to catch it with your mouth. “Like, next month. When we can afford it.”

“Maybe we should let your father know his daughter doesn’t have a couch, so that he can send us a gold one.”

You shot her a look and she grinned.

“These jokes will continue, just so you know.”

“I know, I know…” you muttered and pointed at the TV. “Swipe left.”

“No, swipe right!” Caleb told Kelsey who tilted her head, still holding her thumb over her phone screen. You had connected her phone to the TV and for over an hour you were going over the ‘options’ for her as Caleb had put it, and even though you’d had doubts at first, this turned out to be much more fun than watching political news.

“I mean he does give off fuckboy vibes, Caleb.”

“I don’t give a shit, he has a dog,” Caleb said. “One of us has to find someone with a dog. Birdie already has Bucky, who has an asshole cat—”

“I don’t have Bucky, and Alpine is a pretty princess.”

“And I’m a dog person,” Caleb said, pointing at the picture on the screen. “Maybe he’ll bring over his dog.”

“You make a good point,” Kelsey said as she swiped right, and all of you made a face at the next picture on the screen.

“Left!”

“Do you guys think I’ll have to work for someone else?”

“I think Bucky would rather resign himself than fire you,” Kelsey stated and Caleb nodded, taking a fistful of jellybeans into his palm.

“She’s right,” he said. “Do you want the green ones?”

“Yes please,” you said and held out your hand so that he could put the green jellybeans in your palm, and you popped them in your mouth. “And if he doesn’t trust me anymore?”

“That’s why he looked like a kicked puppy when I told Kels you were already home within his earshot?”

You let out a whine and downed your drink. “It’s gonna be so weird when I see him tomorrow.”

“Just pretend nothing happened,” Kelsey said, making Caleb scoff.  

“I’m sure it’s a very healthy approach to disagreements in a relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” you said sulkily as the roar of a motorcycle outside reached the apartment. “He’s in a relationship with Hazel fucking—swipe right on this one Kels—Brooks.”

“Who hates your guts because she knows Bucky likes you.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “Because Bucky would ever leave his hot, successful, billionaire girlfriend —who is, if I may repeat, super hot— to be with me.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

You flailed your arms. “We don’t even have a damn couch, Kels!”

“Then he fucks you on the floor, who cares?” Caleb exclaimed as he poured more wine into your glass, and your phone buzzed on the floor. You picked it up, sitting up straighter the moment you saw the text.

From: Winter Is Coming

Hey. Are you awake?

“What the…” you muttered and turned the screen to Caleb and Kelsey so that they could read the text. “Is this a ‘you up’ text? Is Bucky sending me a you up text?”

“The man has to google half of the things I text him, but he’s sending you a you up text, sure.” Kelsey scoffed a laugh. “See, told you things would work out. That’s gonna be an apology text, text him back.”

You sent a quick yes, your heartbeat getting faster as Caleb grinned.

“He’s so lying in bed thinking about you, aw!”

“He’s not doing that— ” You started but you were cut off when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Do you mind stepping outside for a minute?

“Holy shit!”

“Caleb, stop shouting!”

“He’s here?!”

“Oh my God, oh my God…” You jumped on your feet, fanning yourself. “What do I do?”

“Well, you calm down,” Kelsey said, getting up as well. “And you go outside.”

“How do I look?”

“You look great.” Kelsey pulled your top down a little and wiggled her brows. “For good luck.”

You took a deep breath, fixed your hair, and rushed out of the apartment to make your way downstairs, then you stepped out of the building to find him leaning against his motorcycle. 

Goddamn it.

You were supposed to be angry at him, but somehow the butterflies in your stomach refused to listen to you.

“To repeat,” you said as you walked down the stairs and approached him. “I have a doorbell.”

“It’s 2 a.m.” Bucky replied, his eyes fixed on you, making your heart skip a beat. “I figured Caleb and Kelsey would be asleep.”

“Nope, we’re picking guys for Kelsey,” you said. “So what brings you here?”

Bucky paused for a moment and licked his lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “About today…”

“Listen, I know you’re gonna say I should’ve told you but you need to understand—”

“I’m sorry.”

That made you stop talking and your eyes snapped up to his, a confused frown pulling your brows together. Bucky gave you an apologetic smile and cleared his throat as if he was willing to get the words out.

“I don’t like it when people hide things from me, and I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes from yours for a moment. “I trust you a lot, so when you—”

You shook your head fervently. “Bucky, I would never betray your trust.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” you insisted. “Because I need you to know that. I would never go behind your back and do anything to—to hurt you in any way.”

That soft light appeared in his blue eyes. “I know.”

“It’s just not who I am.”

“I know, Birdie.”

You bit inside your cheek.

“And I’m sorry too,” you muttered, pressing your palms on your eyes for a moment before dropping your hands. “I swear, something evil comes out of me whenever someone so much as mentions me being anything like him. Especially when I spent years trying to prove that I’m not.”

“I get that.”

You looked down, shifting your weight from one foot to other, then raised your head to smile up at him.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked. “You can help us pick guys for Kels, and there’s wine and snacks.”

“Tempting offer,” he said. “But I’m actually here to drop something off.”

You frowned as he reached into the box behind his motorcycle. “What? I’m pretty sure I got all the files—”

You stopped talking the moment you saw what he pulled out of the box, a gasp leaving your lips and your hands shooting up to your mouth.

Blinky.

He held out the worn out plushie for you and you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before you reached out to take it.

“Wh—how?”

“It was on my way.”

You pulled your brows together, looking down at the fox plushie before raising your glances again.

“My old apartment, which is in New York,” you said slowly, “was on your way to your home, which is in DC.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a mischievous smile.

“Well okay, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “I just got back to the city, that’s why I texted you at this hour.”

You could feel your heart melting in your chest. “You went all the way to New York to get my childhood plushie back?”

“I still think that counts as a toy,” he pointed out as if it was crucial information. “But you said it was important to you, so…”

Don’t kiss him.

You can’t kiss him. He’s your boss, he has a girlfriend, he does not see you that way, do not kiss him.

“And if anything, I’d been wanting to talk to Max for a while now, so the toy was basically just an excuse.”

“It a plushie—” You changed directions mid-sentence. “What do you mean you talked to Max?”

The look on his face was too innocent. “We just had a conversation, that’s all.”

“About?”

“About him not making anything difficult for you. Or something along those lines.”   

The warmth swirled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel lightheaded as you beamed at him, a giggle climbing your chest.

“Bucky.” You breathed out. “I don’t know what to say...”

“Oh it’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you said. “It’s—it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

That made his head snap up, his eyes searching yours while a proud smile pulled at his lips like your praise meant the world to him. It could’ve been funny if you weren’t trying so hard to control yourself from kissing him; the deadliest assassin in the world, the infamous Bucky Barnes who barely smiled at anyone, who could strike fear in anyone’s hearts with a mere glare, now had the same expression of an excited puppy who was given a treat.

His throat bobbed and he blinked a couple of times like he was trying to pull himself together, then gestured at his motorcycle. “I uh, I should go.”

You were painfully aware that you were pouting. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And hey, I’m sure you’re needed inside too. Can’t have Kelsey choose the wrong guy.”

You huffed out a laugh, hugging a plushie to your stomach and nodded.

“See you tomorrow,” you said quietly and took a couple of steps but then turned around to look at him.

“And…” You cleared your throat, your heart pacing in your chest. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”

His voice was soft: “Good night Birdie.”

He waited until you were in the building to ride away and you pressed a hand over your chest before climbing the stairs to enter your apartment.

“Hey,” Kelsey said. “How did it—is that a plushie?”

“Bucky got you a plushie?” Caleb asked, confusion clear in his tone and you looked down at the plushie, then back at them.

“Guys, we have a problem,” you rasped out, your voice weak even to your own ears. “I think I’m actually falling for him.”

[iamthatonefangirl]

early morning - nsfw fatws bucky barnes

this is a short one based on this ask 🫶🫶🫶

~~~

it was early in the morning, the sun barely yet risen above the horizon. in an ideal world, you'd still be in bed snuggled up against Bucky for a few more hours until you got up and enjoyed a lazy day around the house with him.

you don't live in an ideal world. you still have to get up and go to work, and he's getting ready to leave for a few weeks. unfortunate.

so running on next to no sleep, you drag yourself out of bed, taking care not to wake the man still resting next to you. it's far more difficult for him to get to sleep than it is for you, and you're not about to interrupt him for anything.

you wrap your robe around yourself without caring to tie it, slipping your feet in your slippers and making your way to the kitchen.

coffee, food, shower. that was all that was on your mind as of yet.

as you hunched over the counter, you shut your eyes in your sleepy state and listened to the coffee machine whir, impatiently waiting for it to finish brewing.

you hear a shuffling in the hall before you feel him stepping up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"g'morning, baby," he mumbles. he's even less awake than you are.

"you should still be in bed, Bucky," you mumble as you turn around to him. his arms never leave you as you move to face him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"no, baby, I shouldn't. 'm gonna miss you, wanna spend every minute with you," he says, leaning his head against your shoulder to press gentle kisses to your neck.

it's so soothing, you lean your head onto his and bring a hand to gently massage the back of his scalp as he kisses your skin.

the coffee machine finishes a moment later, and he steps away and towards the fridge as you pour a large mug for yourself. you're in desperate need of caffeine.

"you want whipped cream?" he asks, the light from the fridge spilling out into the kitchen.

it's something funny, he thinks, to put whipped cream on hot coffee. you've completely turned him, though, and now neither of you can have a cup without it.

you hum in approval and he returns to his spot behind you, uncapping the bottle and squirting a hefty amount of cream into your mug over your shoulder.

the way you dip your finger into the cream and bring it to your mouth, accidentally smearing it over your lips, awakens something in him. maybe it's the fact that he's dreading leaving for the next two weeks, unable to hold you close every night and make love to you day in and day out.

"neither of us leave until I fuck you one more time," he says into your ear, nipping at the cartilage there, and it makes you laugh softly into the quiet of the room.

"I have to get ready for work," you respond, turning to face him, mug abandoned behind you on the counter.

"but I'm leaving," he protests, dragging out the words with a soft whine.

"and you'll be back soon. you can fuck me then," you smile.

he pouts at you, wanting nothing more than to feel you right now.

you should tell him 'no' when he begins to push the fabric of your robe off your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. you should be focused on getting in the shower instead of letting him peel your shirt over your head, joining your robe on the floor.

but the feel of his hands on your skin, up and down your sides, kneading at the flesh at your breasts makes you forget about work.

he's right. he's leaving. so what's the harm?

you're shocked at the cool feeling on your skin when you realize he's got the bottle of whipped cream in hand, dragging it over your chest as it dispenses cream, followed by his warm tongue lapping it up.

"fuck, Bucky," you mumble, bringing your hands to his head, fully giving into his every whim.

you watch as he keeps going, trailing the bottle down the center of your chest, over your nipples, everywhere.

you're really going to need a shower now.

he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling at your sleep shorts, drawing them to your ankles as he leans in closer.

"keep that bottle away from anywhere down there," you tell him firmly, but you can't help but laugh as you say it.

"come on, baby, it's just you and me," he retorts, but does as you say and places it back on the counter. he leans in, spreading your thighs just enough for him to work his tongue in between them. he finds you already drenched by time his mouth is on you.

"so good for me," he tells you before licking you again. "taste so good, you know that?"

you're still holding him by the hair, gently tugging him closer as you try to grind up against the lower half of his face.

"want pictures of your fingers in this pretty pussy every day, you hear me?" he smirks, and you nod, happy to oblige him.

"gonna miss eating you while I'm gone," he mumbles.

"shut up and make me come," you hurriedly tell him, pushing his face against you once more.

he smirks against you, working faster and finally putting his mouth to better use.

neither of you can wait for the day he comes home and falls to his knees for you once more.

~~~

masterlist

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[juliettejwnewinesa]

Hi, can you do a Seongje fic where he goes home and finds his partner bruised and covered in blood, crying and trembling while trying to treat their injuries and he finds out some of the Union members beat her up after failing to do other things (iykyk) with her. And she asks him to stay the night, afraid of being left alone

“I’ll Burn It All Down”

Seongje x Reader | ~500 words | Complete

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

You didn’t scream when it happened.

You tried to fight — clawed at arms too strong, shouted through the back alley with no light and no witnesses. Your throat was raw. Your breath burned. You only remembered the laughter. One of them had said you were "asking for it."

You spat blood at his face.

That’s what made him hit you. Over and over again. When his friend laughed, he tried to grab your shirt — said you should smile more. You didn’t remember the rest. Only the sound of footsteps that sent them running. Only the sting of gravel in your palms as you crawled away, not daring to look back.

It took you nearly an hour to walk home, blood smearing down your wrist, skirt torn, knees scraped. You unlocked the door with trembling fingers and locked it three times behind you. Only when you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror did you collapse.

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You were still shaking when Seongje found you.

"Y/N?"

His voice was so soft. Too soft. Like he already knew something was wrong the moment he stepped inside.

You didn’t answer.

"Where are you?"

The bathroom door was cracked open. You couldn’t find the strength to call out, but your small sob — the one you thought was quiet — must’ve been loud enough. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, and the look on his face when he saw you…

You’d never forget it.

"Y/N—" He dropped to his knees beside you, arms reaching out but not touching. "Baby, what—what happened?"

You couldn’t look at him. Your lip trembled. You were trying to stop the bleeding on your side, but your hands wouldn’t work.

"It was the Union," you whispered. "They found me."

His entire body went still.

"They—" You swallowed hard. "They said they were gonna ‘leave a message.’ One of them tried to touch me. Said you couldn’t protect me forever. That I was just a warm-up."

Seongje’s fists clenched. His voice dropped an octave. "Did they—?"

"No," you whispered. "Someone passed by. Scared them off. They just… hit me. A lot." A pause. "They said they'd finish it next time."

Your voice cracked.

"I’m scared, Seongje. I thought I was going to die."

That was the moment he touched you — really touched you — cupping your face so carefully like he was afraid to break you. You leaned into him instantly, shaking like a leaf.

"They're not gonna hurt you again," he said. "I’ll kill them first."

You didn’t know if it was a promise or a vow.

He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night.

He carried you from the bathroom to the bed, cleaned your wounds with shaking hands. His jaw was locked the whole time, gaze lingering on every bruise like he was memorizing them — not to pity you, but to avenge you.

When he pulled your torn shirt away and saw the red handprint on your collarbone, he froze.

Then he exhaled. "That’s the last thing he’ll ever touch."

You let him help you change, holding your arms out like a child, letting him button one of his shirts over your bandaged skin. You didn’t want to be alone — not even for a second — so he stayed in your bed, wrapping his arms around you like a fortress.

You hadn’t stopped shaking.

"Will you stay the night?" you whispered, voice small.

He didn’t even answer. He just held you tighter.

You woke in the middle of the night from a nightmare — sweaty, panicked, your heartbeat racing. Seongje was already awake, his arms tightening around you the moment you whimpered.

"I’m here. I’m right here," he murmured into your hair.

You were crying before you could stop it. He let you. He didn’t tell you to quiet down. Just kissed your forehead and let the storm come out.

You hadn’t even realized what you were saying until the words slipped out.

"Don’t leave me. Please."

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. "I won’t. Not now. Not ever."

Then his voice turned darker.

"But I have to make them pay."

You nodded.

"Not tonight," he said, kissing your knuckles. "Tonight, I’m staying with you."

Two Days Later

You hadn’t left the apartment. Seongje made sure you had everything. Food, blankets, clothes — his voice always low and calm with you, even when his phone rang and his tone turned sharp the second he stepped into the other room.

He hadn’t told you what he was planning.

You didn’t ask.

But you knew the rage in him had only grown colder. Focused. His smile never reached his eyes now. His fists were bruised. His hoodie sleeves stained with blood he didn’t try to wash out.

When you asked if he was okay, he’d only answer:

"I'm getting there."

That Night

He came home later than usual.

There was blood on his knuckles again. A small cut on his cheek. His hoodie smelled like sweat and rain and smoke.

You rushed to him immediately. "Seongje—what happened?"

He pulled you into his arms before answering.

"They won’t be coming back."

You froze.

His voice was steady. Hollow. "One of them's in the hospital. The other two���" He didn’t finish the sentence. "They got the message. They won't breathe your name again."

You didn’t cry this time. You just leaned into him. "Did it help?"

His silence spoke volumes.

"Not enough," he whispered. "But it’s a start."

You guided him to the bathroom. Cleaned his wounds this time. You kissed the cut on his cheek and he closed his eyes.

"They should’ve never touched you."

"They didn’t get what they wanted," you said softly. "But they still took something. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again."

"You will." He cupped your face. "I’ll make sure of it. I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again."

You nodded, voice trembling. "Will you stay? Not just tonight… but always?"

"I’m already yours," he said.

And he meant it.

That night, when you pulled him into bed again, he was hesitant to touch you — like he thought you were still too fragile. So you kissed him first. You took his hands and placed them on your hips. You whispered: "It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid of breaking me."

His lips were gentle. His hands traced every inch of you like you were sacred. He didn’t rush. Just held you through it all.

There was no sex — not yet. But there was intimacy.

You laid there wrapped in his arms, head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

For the first time in days, you weren’t afraid.

EPILOGUE

Later, Seongje stood on the balcony in the dark, a cigarette between his fingers, staring down at the city.

He’d buried his fists in someone’s face for every bruise you came home with.

But the rage didn’t leave him. It sat heavy in his chest like lead.

When he came back inside, you were asleep — curled in the blankets, wearing his hoodie, breathing softly.

He kissed your forehead again, whispering:

"If they ever touch you again, I’ll burn this entire city down."

And he meant that, too.

end

author's note: kinda did this at ike 6 am so idk if i showed that the union tried to do stuff with her like enough idk so im sorry i need.more cofee after this T_T ok ilysm

[sydwritess]

The Silver Jacket

Kimi Antonelli x fem!reader

Summary: Kimi has been talking about how he needs a change in his fashion choices, one day while you are away, Kimi gets some advice from George, and the next day, he shows up to the circuit with a big silver jacket.

First Person POV

Warning: light swearing

Notes: y/f/f - your favorite food

Right now, me and Kimi are on the Monaco Circuit. He had just gotten done with a practice race, and we sat in his drivers room, letting him cool off from the heat.

"Ugh, I need a new style change." Kimi said, scrolling on his phone.

"Why do you say that?" I ask.

"Look." He said, turning his phone to me. "George has good clothes on all the time! So does Lando, and even Charles!" He exclaimed.

"I think your fashion sense is quite alright." I said.

"Maybe. But I need to change it up a bit. Not just boring old dress pants and button up anymore." He said quietly.

"Don't let it get to your head Kimi." I said.

"Maybe I could get some advice from George. He looks good. don't you think?" He asked while smirking.

"Is that a trick question?" I ask, matching his energy.

"No no. I'm being serious." He said while smiling.

"His clothes are alright. But don't forget, they are also used to this." I said, waving my hand across, pointing to the room. "The heat especially. They can wear what they want and not get effected." I said. He nodded.

"Yeah, your right."

"Don't let it get to your head though, seriously." I said, kissing his forehead.

"I have to go. But I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked.

"See you tomorrow." He said hugging me. "I love you."

"I love you to." I said, hugging him back and then leaving his room.

I woke up in my apartment, the sun shining on my face. I look over to check the time, but noticed Kimi had called. I quickly called him back, getting up to get ready.

"Hey, good morning." He said cheerfully.

"Morning. Are you at work?" I asked.

"Yeah, we had a emergency meeting scheduled." He sighed.

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, yeah everything is fine. Wolff probably wants to go over some last minute strategies." He said.

"Okay, well, I will be there soon. I woke up late." I said.

"It is no worries. Take your time." He said.

"Okay. Well, I'm going to get ready. I will see you there." I said.

"Bye. I will see you." He said, hanging up the call. I finished getting ready. Getting some breakfast before leaving. I was driving down the road when I got a text from Kimi, I ended up calling him instead.

"Hey, what's up?" He asked.

"Sorry, didn't want to text and drive." I said.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know." He said in a low tone.

"Don't be, it's okay. How did the meeting go?" I asked.

"It went well, just talked about strategies and the cars and everything."

"Okay, I'm almost there so, I will see you in like 2 minutes?" I said.

"Okay. I will see you here." He said. I hung up and continued driving. Eventually I pull into the parking lot, luckily there was a separate lot for drivers and their guests, so it had plenty of parking. I got out of the car, showing the guards my bag and walked into the Mercedes garage.

"Hey! There you are!" George said, walking up to me. "Mate, Kimi has been so lonely without you he started crying nearly!" George laughed out.

"I did not George!" I heard Kimi's voice from the back of the garage. Then I saw Kimi appear from behind the car, walking up to me and giving me a hug.

"I did miss you But let's not tell George that." He whispered.

"Our little secret then." I said smiling.

"Right, I have something amazing to show you." Kimi said smiling, leading me out of the garage.

"I'm scared." I said laughing.

"Don't be, It's fine." He said, he led me over to this small booth with a lady in it. She instantly recognized Kimi and got a package out of a box from below her table.

"Here you go Kimi." She said smiling.

"Thank you." he said smiling, getting out his wallet to pay for the package. We then slowly walked away towards the garage.

"Here, this is for you." He said smiling, handing me the package. I looked at him with a slight smile and slowly started opening it, inside revealed a black tee-shirt with a slight teal color, it had the Mercedes brand on it and all of their sponsors.

"Flip it over." He said quickly, putting his hands together with excitement. I flip it over to see Kimi's number on the back, with my last name at the top. I look up at him to see a big smile plastered across his face.

"Thank you. This is so sweet." I said, hugging him.

"Your welcome." He said laughing quietly. "I saw her and asked if she do customs." He said.

"Yeah! You should have seen him! Like a little child in a candy store on a sugar rush!" George said, yelling from the garage. Me and Kimi both turn our heads to see George standing there with his arms crossed.

"Oh shut up you giraffe!" Kimi shouted, I laughed at his response. We both walked up to the garage, to George.

"I may be tall-"

"And have a long neck." Kimi interrupted, while laughing.

"Anyway. If you don't mind, I'm going to borrow him, he asked for my brilliant fashion advice." George said, looking at me.

"I don't care. Just make him look good." I said smirking..

"Oh I will, trust me." He said smirking, pulling Kimi in through the hospitality door. I wandered off, down through the garages, looking at all of the cars there.

"Hi y/n. Lovely seeing you here." A voice said from behind me, I turn to see that it was Lando and Max.

"Oh hi Lando, just came to visit Kimi, George ended up taking him." I said with a low laugh. I saw Lando chuckle to himself while Max rolled his eyes.

"Anyway. We were heading to the Paddock for lunch. Want to come?" Max asked.

"Yeah sure." I said, and started walking with them. We walked into the paddock and sat down at a tiny restaurant in there.

"Hello, welcome in, what can I start you off with today?" The waitress asked, brining out her notepad.

"Can I get a water, and a chicken burger?" Lando said. She nodded.

"I'll get the pasta with red sauce and water as well." Max said. She nodded again.

"I'll just get a y/f/f with water." I said.

"Alright. That will be right out for you." She said with a smile and walked back to the kitchen.

"How did I know you were going to get pasta." Lando smirked at Max.

"And how did I know you were going to get a chicken burger. Again." Max said with a smile, slightly laughing.

"I didn't expect you to order that much on a race weekend." I said.

"Yeah, didn't Zak sign you up for a nutritionist doctor or something?" Max asked.

"No! And I'd like to keep it that way." Lando said quietly scolding him.

"You know, it's not bad to have one." I said.

"Yes, it is! He won't even let me eat my kinder bars!" Lando said dramatically, sighing into his seat, Max started laughing hardly.

"Oh man mate! It's like you got ran over!" Max said, his laughter dying down. Eventually our food came out, we ate and then left the shop.

"Thanks for inviting me. I better go see what those two are up to." I said.

"Of course, your welcome." Max said. Lando nodded.

"I'll see you around." i said waving at them. They waved back and walked off. I went to hospitality to see Kimi standing outside of his room.

"Hey! How did fashion advice go?" I asked.

"Good good. What were you up to?" He asked.

"Lando and Max invited me to lunch. Some shop in the paddock." I said.

"That's nice of them." He smiled.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked.

"Of course, I'll wake up earlier next time." I said laughing.

"Alright, I'll text you." He said, giving me a hug. I hugged back and left the building, making my way home.

It was now FP2 day, I had gotten to the circuit an hour ealier, hanging out in front of the Mercedes garage with George.

"Have you seen Kimi? He hasn't answer my text." I ask George.

"Ugh, It enlightens me to see that the young ones are still in love." He said, putting a hand on his heart.

"Um, were only 9 years apart. You know that right?" I said.

"I know, It pains me." He said dramatically. "But no, I don't know where he is." He said standing up seriously now.

"Okay." I said slowly.

"George! Y/n! Lovely to see you!" A voice said, we turn to see Charles, Carlos, Lando, Oscar, and Lewis walking up to us.

"How are you mate?" Lewis said to Charles.

"Oh you know, Y/n's getting sad that her Kimi isn't with her." George said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Okay you giraffe." i said, crossing my arms.

"Oh my what is he wearing?" Carlos said quietly, looking passed us. We turn around to see Kimi walking up in a big, puffy silver jacket, and small black shorts.

"Oh my goodness." Charles laughed.

"Mate, nice to see you." Kimi said to George.

"Seriously? This is the advice you gave him? To look like an astronaut?" I ask George, but I can't help myself from laughing.

"Yup. I just thought. Hm, what will look good on dear Kimi, and then, I gave him this." George said, swinging his hands around like he was present Kimi.

"Yes. I look fantastic right now." Kimi smirked. The guys all went around him to feel his jacket, and make small comments.

"Meet Kimi, no, not the F1 driver, the astronaut." Lando said teasingly.

"Mate, I look good right now, what are you talking about." Kimi laughed. The boys all got their looks in and went off on their own ways again, now it was me and Kimi standing in the garage alone.

"Aren't you hot in that?" I ask. He tilts his head a bit, looking at me.

"I'll survive." He smirked.

"Oh my, you look like you've wrapped yourself in tin foil." I said giggling.

"But you like it yeah?"

"Yes. I do, why not." I shrugged. "Are you happy you got the fashion advice out?" I ask while hugging him.

"Yup, And as always. I look amazing." He said while laughing.

"Yes you do." I said smiling.

Hey loves! Hope you like this one! Comment to be added to the f1 tag list!

[ashthesalamipiece]

Hiii bakugo family brain rot! It’s dark, the house is quiet kids all asleep, or they’re supposed to be when a large thud can be heard from the eldest daughters room Que katsuki running in quirk going crazy ready to attack whatever intruder is trying to attack his family only to be met with his 17 year old daughter sneaking a boy into her room😭 and reader is just giggleing after the whole thing bc her an katsuki did the same exact crap when they were kids

Like Father, Like Daughter (Unfortunately)

(Dad Bakugo x Mom Reader, teen daughter shenanigans)

The house was quiet. The kind of quiet that only came after bedtime—when dishes were done, little feet were tucked into beds, and the last light had clicked off in the hallway.

You were curled up on the couch in Katsuki’s old hoodie, book in your lap, mug of tea on the coffee table. He was beside you, one arm around your shoulders, his head tilted back in blissful silence.

“This is the best part of the day,” he muttered, eyes closed.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Peace. Quiet. No slime in the bathtub. No screaming over crayons.”

And then—

THUD.

A heavy, muffled sound from upstairs. Like something—or someone—hit the floor.

Katsuki was on his feet before you could blink, palm already popping with sparks.

“The hell was that?” he snapped, voice low and dangerous.

You started to get up, but he was already halfway to the stairs.

“Stay here,” he barked. “If someone’s in the house, I’m gonna blast their ass into next week.”

“Language,” you called after him gently.

He ignored you completely, already storming up the stairs like a one-man SWAT team. You followed, slower, more curious than worried.

The thud had come from your eldest daughter’s room—17 and way too clever for her own good.

Katsuki didn’t knock. He kicked the door open with a loud crack, sparks flying off his arms like a storm was about to break loose.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE—”

He stopped.

You peeked over his shoulder.

And there she was—your daughter—wide-eyed and frozen in place next to her open window.

And beside her, equally frozen, stood a boy.

A boy in a wrinkled hoodie and scuffed-up sneakers, halfway through climbing in.

“…Hi, Mr. Bakugo,” the boy squeaked, face paler than death.

Katsuki didn’t move. Just stood there, fists still sparking, jaw clenched so hard you were pretty sure you could hear it cracking.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he said calmly. “Not right now. Not in front of you. But I’m gonna kill him.”

“DAD!!” your daughter shrieked. “It’s not like that! We weren’t doing anything!”

“NOTHING HAPPENS THROUGH A WINDOW AT MIDNIGHT!”

You had to turn around to keep from laughing.

“I swear we were just watching movies!” the boy said quickly. “We weren’t even—like—touching!”

“I’m gonna blast your ass into the next galaxy,” Katsuki snarled.

You finally stepped in, laying a hand on your husband’s arm. “Babe. Relax.”

“She snuck a boy in. Through the window. He could’ve been a villain. A pervert. A Mineta type!”

“She has a quirk that lets her light people on fire if they touch her without permission, remember?” you said helpfully.

Katsuki looked like his soul was trying to escape through his eye sockets.

Your daughter groaned and flopped onto the bed. “This is so embarrassing.”

The boy slowly backed toward the window. “Should I—like—go?”

“YES,” Katsuki barked.

“Don’t fall,” you added sweetly, waving.

He scrambled out like his life depended on it. It might’ve.

Once the window closed again, and your daughter was mid–dramatic sulk with a pillow over her face, Katsuki turned to you with fire in his eyes.

“We’re putting bars on the damn windows.”

You finally let out the giggle you’d been holding in. “You’re freaking out now, but don’t forget you used to sneak into my room the same exact way.”

“That was different,” he grumbled. “I had manners.”

“You fell out of the tree and sprained your ankle.”

“I still climbed back up,” he muttered, proud.

You leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. “We survived. So will she.”

He sighed—deep and long—like it physically hurt to let this go. “Next time I hear a thud in this house, someone’s getting flashbanged.”

Your daughter groaned louder. “I heard that.”

“You were supposed to be asleep,” he shot back.

You just laughed and tugged him back down the stairs, knowing full well he’d be checking her window locks every night for the next six months.

[jinxposting]

Two Of A Kind - chapter 2

Mohawk Mark x Jinx! reader

Taglist: @1abi @mexxs-xs

"... y/n?"

You feel like you were just drenched in a bucket of ice water. You held your breath for a moment before it came back out shaky. In and out, faster and faster. You didn't think, you just acted.

You raised your pistol to the alternate Invincible. A soft whir could be heard as the device powered to life.

"How do you know that name?"

The man stared at you. His eyes only glanced at the weapon once before returning to your face. He wasn't the least bit perturbed by the threat. Instead he continued to gape at you, disbelief etched in his features. He raised his hand towards your face again but you quickly stumbled back, your gun remaining fixed on him. Logically you knew the chances of it doing any notable damage to him were slim to none. But you weren't being logical right now.

Your whole body was shaking with rage and a sickly embarrassment. Every fiber of your being was screaming to kill this guy. Even if you knew you couldn't.

"Tell me!" You demand again.

He continues to stare but you can see his eyes searching you. Analyzing. Looking for something. You assume something he couldn't find, given the bitter chuckle that escapes him. He closes his eyes for a minute and when they reopen they feel different. Tired, maybe.

"That's a long story."

"Give me the Cliff Notes."

He sighs, a sullen smile hardly masking a pained expression. "You told it to me." You must have looked as confused as you felt because he was quick to elaborate. "The you in my universe."

His eyes were unfocused, gazing off into the distance. "In my universe we met in college. I was struggling to pick a major so I snuck into a few classes to see if anything caught my attention. Then one day I snuck into Mechanical Engineering. Honestly I didn't understand much of anything." His face softened. "Then I saw you. You were so fascinated by everything. The way you'd light up whenever there was some kind of demonstration was so..."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Anyway, you were super smart. But whenever math was involved? Forget it. You were immediately checked out." He laughed wryly. "So I figured that'd be my excuse to get to know you. I offered to tutor you and you accepted."

You let the information sink in. Or at least tried to. How were you supposed to react to that? Oh cool, this mass murderer and I were besties in another life. This is very normal.

While you were busy processing this new knowledge the alternate Invincible cautiously approached you. "Wait... What are you called here?"

"Huh?"

"You acted like I stabbed you when I said your name. Did you change it?"

You blinked. With a sigh you finally lowered your pistol. "Jinx. That's what I'm called now." You fixed the man with a deep glare. "So do not call me y/n. She died a long time ago."

He was taken aback by that. His eyes squinted in thought, a mix of confusion and hurt painted his face. "What does that mean?"

"Long story."

He smirked. "Give me the Cliff Notes."

You hated yourself for smiling at that. You shook your head in an attempt to mask it but judging by the man's beaming expression you failed.

"Not anything special. Had a shitty childhood, became a terrorist, almost died, got experimented on, and here I am." You shrugged.

"... Okay, I'm gonna need more than that."

"Too bad. I don't make a habit of spewing my guts to strangers."

"Strangers? So we don't even work together in this world? This place just gets lamer and lamer."

"Sorry to burst your bubble but I don't even know your name. Hell, before today I didn't know what you looked like without the mask."

He gave a smug look, leaning in closer. "Oh? And do ya like what you see?"

"Pfft! Don't flatter yourself, pretty boy." You rolled your eyes.

"So you think I'm pretty."

"I might be crazy but I ain't blind."

The man stared at you in shock before he turned away. A hand over his mouth disguised what you presumed to be a smile. "Just as blunt."

"What?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing." Turning back, you now had a full view of his lightly flushed cheeks. Cute.

"Mark, by the way."

"... Mark?"

"My name. Use it."

"Alright, Mark," You tested the new name on your tongue. "What exactly are you and your... clones? Associates? Whatever. What are you guys doing here?"

His smile fell for a split second - imperceivable to most - but quickly returned. "We each made a deal with this guy who can open portals. We help him with his revenge and we each get something we want."

You waited for him to continue but he didn't seem too keen on sharing details. Still, you had to ask. "And what do you want?"

Mark hummed. "Originally? New worlds to conquer." You attempted to school your reaction but knew you failed at the sound of his laughter.

"You should see the look on your face!" He cackled.

"How do you expect me to react to that?!"

"Well, in my world you were pretty open to the idea. I mean- Don't get me wrong. You had more... righteous motivations than me but you were still down."

You were prepared to argue but it didn't take long for a revelation to dawn on you. Would you be opposed to world domination? You did want to dismantle the current government and justice system. All the systems had to be reworked, really. And if you were given the opportunity to do so, why wouldn't you?

"Hm... Yeah. That sounds like me actually."

Mark gave a proud grin. "So...?"

"So?"

"Join me."

"Join you? In what? Getting revenge for some guy I don't even know?"

"No, join me in conquering worlds!" He grabbed your free hand with surprising care. Pulling you in closer, he rested your palm against his chest. "Think about it. You hate working for those asshats at the G.D.A. right? And if you're anything like my version of you - which I know you are - you hate how things are run in this world. Just imagine what we could do together."

This wasn't right. You knew it wasn't. The crazed, borderline manic look in his eyes was enough to tell you this was wrong. But it was hard to see it through the hope and desperation that was equally evident. Both in him and you.

You weren't dumb, you knew he was using you as a surrogate for an alternate version of yourself. One you could only assume was long gone. You knew he was projecting a memory of someone else onto you. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to fault him for it. His honeyed words held truth to them. You did hate this world. You always had. And the promise of being able to reshape it in your own ideals? Who wouldn't be tempted.

Several emotions were whirling inside you. Elation at the thought of achieving your life's goal. Resentment that someone knew you so intimately despite having just met. Fear that once he realized you weren't the same person he knew he'd abandon you. Disgust in yourself for even caring.

You closed your eyes and breathed. You felt the thump of Mark's heart against your palm. The gentle yet firm grip he kept on your hand. Steeling your nerves, you opened your eyes.

"You know I'm not her. I'm not... y/n."

The excitement in his eyes dulled. His fervor dissipated like smoke. Solemnly, he nodded. "I know." He rested his forehead against yours.

"Everything you remember about her, everything she knew about you... Those memories aren't mine."

"... I know."

A soft breeze blew past you. It was calming in a melancholic sort of way. Mark's eyes were closed. Those dark circles beneath them somehow appeared deeper now. He was grieving all over again.

"I never went to college. Can't even begin to imagine a life where I could. I'm probably not as smart as she was. Or nice. I'm probably a worse person through and through." You holstered the gun you'd been holding up until now. You raised your newly free hand to cup Mark's face. "Knowing all that. Would you still want to know me?"

He opened his eyes. Dark and swirling with just as many conflicting feelings as your own. Mark stood there, silent, for a long while. You didn't rush him either. Eventually he mimicked your gesture and brought his hand up to your cheek.

"Always."

[bullet-prooflove]

Speak Your Truth: John Carter x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @anna-bailey @ofsoapsuds @queenslandlover-93 @gemofspace

Summary: John speaks his truth in the aftermath of a tragedy.

Companion piece to:

Little John - You try to keep John's mind off the task at hand.

The First One Is Always The Hardest - You comfort John after the death of a patient.

Forget-Me-Nots - John wakes up hung over in a strange bed and with an unexpected memento of the night before.

The suicide ruins John, it breaks his heart, his will, his mind. He finds himself sitting in a chair in the waiting room staring into the abyss as he goes over all the things he could have said, that he should have said. Even after Benton talks to him it doesn’t ease, it feels like there’s a pressure bearing down on his chest, stealing away his breath.

“Hey…” You say softly as you crouch down in front of him in your street clothes.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t answer. He just sits there, his eyes fixed on something that you simply can’t see. Your fingers grace his jawline, delicately tipping his chin to meet your gaze. He flinches and you pause, dipping your head instead.  

“John.” You murmur. “This is not your fault, sometimes people are just in too much pain…”

He doesn’t believe it, you can see it in the way his lips purse together as he looks at you with hollowed out eyes. It’s like someone has stole the light right out of them. It hurts to see him like this, in so much pain. You can patch up a physical wound, staunch the bleeding but something like this, it takes time to process, a safe environment to heal in and John, he’s all alone. His parents are in Switzerland, visiting his sister and the other people in his life…

They don’t understand his decision to become a doctor, not when his family have more money than God.

“John.” You say firmly. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

“I’ll be fine.” He responds but you know that’s not true, you can hear it in his voice, how devoid of emotion it is. He’s shutting down completely, cutting himself off from the world. That’s how it starts, you bury the mental anguish and it festers under the surface, poisoning you until you’re the one standing on the edge of that roof.

“But I won’t be.” You say, appealing to the selfless part in him. “I think we both need our friend tonight-”

“You think you need me?” He laughs, it’s a horrible dull sound that vibrates through his chest as he takes your hands in his clasping them tightly. “You don’t, you’re already brilliant and strong and brave and-”

“And I would be none of those things without you.” You kick back, your forehead coming to rest against his. “You think I would have made it this far without you fighting in my corner? Not a chance in hell. You promised me we’d do this together, that we’d take care of one another so let me take care of you. We’ll go back home to my place, put on some shitty movie, eat take out-”

“Crys…” He says helplessly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I love you, you know that don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” You tell him with a fond smile. “And I love you too…”

“Not like that.” He says, shaking his head. “I mean real love, like the type they write Hallmark movies about. I know that you don’t feel the same way but I watched a woman throw herself off a building today because she couldn’t live her truth and I gotta speak mine. I’m in love with you Crys, I have been for a long time.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[a-cat-in-toffee]

siiiiiiince it's only about 1.6k together. posting it here. William pov and then Vyncent pov because thats . the way it makes most sense tbh. The dialog is the exact same lol

William collapses onto the soft grass at the top of the hill, just inside the supposed border around camp. From here he can see all the activity, kids sparring, talking, just generally... hanging out. And he just watches. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling- William was used to watching people happier than him. Used to missing out.

Okay, maybe that was too angsty.

But it still felt weird, being at camp. A camp full of people... like him. Who saw the things he saw. Dealt with the issues he dealt with. As a kid he had desperately wanted that connection with the people around him. To be able to say something and be believed. And now that he had it?

Well... it was a bit overwhelming.

He had been sort of just thrust into all of this- and it was scary how natural it felt. How quickly he could just accept yeah sure. His mom was a God. Why not?

It definitely feels like he should be more... apprehensive? Like he should be questioning all of this more. It shouldn't just make sense, and yet it does. He doesn't know why it just does.

(Does it really matter?)

"Hey."

"SHIT-" William nearly jumps out of his skin, head whipping towards the woods.

Leaning against a tree, laughing at Will, is Vyncent, relaxed as ever, hands in his pockets. "Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you."

"It's fine..." Will brought a hand to his chest, more startled than he thought. "Do you uh- need something?"

"I noticed you snuck off and campfire’s going to start soon, so..." Vyncent shrugged, leaving the rest of the sentence to implication.

"Sorry just... needed a minute. Collect my thoughts, y'know?" He glanced out over the camp again. It was... really quite beautiful, especially with the setting sun behind it. Will almost wished he had a camera.

After a second Vyncent sat down next to him, looking over camp as well. It was... nice. He was certainly a comforting presence.

"It's uh- not that different from Deadwood." William finally manages, not quite looking at Vyncent. "If you look past how lively it is here. All the woods and cliffs... threat of death by monsters... almost feels like home." He laughs, a bit bitter.

"Guess you'll adjust quick then, huh?" Vyncent smiled, and William was suddenly struck with just how pretty he was, especially in the light of the setting sun. He'd say angelic if he wasn't sure it'd manage to piss some deity off.

"Uh... yeah. I guess so." He looked anywhere that wasn't Vyncent- face burning. God, (gods?) he could not form a crush on the pretty elf boy his first day in. He could not.

"You'll fit right in, dude." Vyncent gently bumped into him, so much warmer than Will was. "Adjusting is... hard. But you've got me to look out for you, remember? I've got your back."

Oh, William was so fucked.

"I... uh..." He blinked. Fuck. Great job, Will. Real eloquent. "Thanks. I appreciate it. I mean that. It's certainly... weird!" He let out a laugh that sounded more like the bark of a dying dog. "But you're definitely helping a lot. It means a lot that there's someone... looking out for me."

"Speaking of, we should probably get away from the woods." Vyncent stood up, stretching as he did. "Don't really wanna be around here at night."

Oh. Yeah. The whole... monsters thing.

Vyncent offers a hand to William, which he's quick to take. He dusts himself off a little- then adjusts the hood on his hoodie. And then his sleeves. Shit, he probably looked like a mess. He could worry about that later.

"Right. Of course. Sorry. You said something about a campfire...?"

And oh god is William gay. Because Vyncent lights up in a way he hadn't before, grinning. "Yeah! I keep forgetting you don't know stuff. At the end of the day everyone gathers around and hang out for a while. You can always sneak off, if you want, but it's a fun time."

"I might just... stay near you and try to stay out of the way I think." Will smiles, awkwardly. Vyncent was basically the only person he knew, and he really hoped he wasn't being too annoying. He knew Vyncent was probably only being so nice out of obligation- and dragging him away from something that he actually seemed excited about filled William with a unique sense of dread- but it wasn't like he had many other options.

"C'mon, you only get a good seat if you get there early." Vyncent waved for him to follow, and he stumbled to catch up as they started making their way down the hill.

It was at least nice to know Vyncent was looking out for him. Even if it was probably an obligation thing... it was sort of comforting. He certainly felt better now than he had before.

Even if he had the world's stupidest crush and was so absolutely and utterly fucked.

(He was... so stupid. This was going to end so badly.)

-

Vyncent pokes his head out of the woods, having finally found Will sat on the edge of camp.

He wasn't sure of bugging Will was exactly a good idea, but... he didnt want him out so late after dark.

"Hey."

"Shit-!" William jumps- apparently having not heard Vyncent approach.

"Sorry,” he laughed, awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to scare you."

"It's fine..." Will brought a hand to his chest, taking a minute to breath. "Do you uh- need something?"

"I noticed you snuck off and campfire’s going to start soon, so..." Vyncent shrugged, trailing off and glancing away, not really sure how to explain that he had wanted to make sure William didn't sneak off and get eaten on his first day.

"Sorry just... needed a minute. Collect my thoughts, y'know?" He looked away.

Vyncent just stood there for a minute, before hesitantly sitting next to Will. He knew there was always an adjustment period. Most new campers hadn't been there for their entire lives. He'd seen it time and time again- you'd think as the Hermes camp counselor he'd be better at comforting people by now.

But... he's not. And so they just sit there for a little.

"It's uh- not that different from Deadwood." William says after a second. "If you look past how lively it is here. All the woods and cliffs... threat of death by monsters... almost feels like home." He laughs, quietly.

"Guess you'll adjust quick then, huh?" Vyncent smiled, trying to aim for reassuring, but with the way Will just stares at him he's pretty sure it's anything but.

"Uh... yeah. I guess so." He looked away. Shit. Social blunder.

Vyncent didn't know what he was supposed to say. People weren't... easy. Combat was straightforward. You had an enemy and a goal, and pretty frequently a means. Strategizing was a bit more finicky- but normally you knew your strengths. Knew what to play to, and knew your enemies weaknesses.

He knew in capture the flag exactly which campers would get cocky, and which to look out for. Knew that Jade was the person people looked to for instruction and knew her patterns. It was easy.

Empathy... wasn't. When it came to being comforting. Vyncent was shit fucked out of luck.

"...You'll fit right in, dude." Vyncent bumped into him slightly, just hoping that wasn’t overstepping. "Adjusting is... hard. But you've got me to look out for you, remember? I've got your back."

And he meant that. Even if he knew camp was fairly safe if you weren't stupid, (which Will had shown at every turn he wasn't) it was still nice to know there was someone keeping watch for you. Vyncent was happy to be that person.

"I... thanks." Will smiled, so Vyncent was pretty sure he was doing something right. "I appreciate it. I mean that. It's certainly... weird." He laughed. "But you're definetly helping a lot. It means a lot that there's someone... looking out for me."

For his own sake, Vyncent takes that at face value.

"Speaking of," and the whole reason he'd been looking for Will in the first place, "we should probably get away from the woods. Don't really wanna be around here at night." He stands.

Vyncent could take care of himself, but... while Will was smart, his physical prowess was... lackluster. A good tactician was important on the battlefield, but not in the actual battle. And he would hate to lose a good tactician.

Vyncent offers a hand down to Will, who's quick to take it. Wow. He blinks. Will... weighed basically nothing. The baggy clothes sort of hid his physique, and while Vyncent hadn't expected him to have that much meat on his bones... it still catches him off guard. That could not be healthy.

"Right. Of course. Sorry. You said something about a campfire...?" William asks, and oh thank the gods something Vyncent actually knows about.

"Yeah! I keep forgetting you don't know stuff. At the end of the day everyone gathers around and hang out for a while." He pauses a second, then adds "You can always sneak off, if you want, but it's a fun time."

"I might just... stay near you and try to stay out of the way I think." Will gives him a small smile, sort of shoving his hands into his pockets and glancing away. Vyncent just nods, hoping he sees it. He had said he'd watch William's back, and he intended to do so.

(Plus, it gave him and excuse to leave if William got overwhelmed. Vyncent wasn't exactly hoping for that, but... he knew the others got pretty rowdy sometimes. And he knew he didn't normally like staying around for the whole time.)

"C'mon, you only get a good seat if you get there early." He gestured for Will to follow him, starting on the short walk over.

Vyncent sort of just hoped Will could trust him. That he had at the very least made himself someone that Will would be able to go to. Not just as a counselor but... fuck, he didn't know. And he wasn't sure it mattered.

All that really mattered was that Will had started walking next to him instead of behind him.

[jessesluvr]

heyyy can you write jesse just completely smitten pinning over reader? i dont have any specific scenario though

jesse scenarios about him falling in love with you

author's note : okay ! soo i know you didn't have a specific scenario so i was like, "oh this is absolutely perfect because i can just write multiple". anyways, i hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting ! jesse my lover boy, i wish you were real. ps. i had to make 10 longer for a reason.

word count : 1.6k

1. patrol partner perks

jesse leans against the stables, trying not to look too eager as your name is read off the next patrol list. when his own name gets paired with yours, he tries to act cool—just a little nod and a quiet "sounds good." but the second you look away, he's grinning like an idiot. he tells himself it’s just coincidence, that he’s “pulling his weight.” but deep down? he knows exactly what he's doing.

he loves the quiet moments most—those stretches of trail where your horse trots beside his and you're both just… there. breathing the same winter air, sharing dumb jokes, talking about nothing. when you laugh at something he says, even if it’s barely funny, he swears he feels it all the way in his chest. like he's twelve again and this is his first real crush.

jesse doesn’t say anything. not yet. it’s enough for now, just riding beside you, memorizing your voice in the snow-covered silence, pretending it’s all just part of the job.

__

2. her laugh

it’s a dumb joke—something about infected tripping over a rake—but you laugh anyway, that breathy, real kind of laugh that makes you squint your eyes and toss your head back. jesse forgets the punchline halfway through just watching you react to it. his heart skips a beat, and he doesn’t even try to hide his smile.

he thinks about that laugh too much. like, way too much. when he’s alone in his room, or when the lodge gets too quiet, he hears it in his head and swears it warms him more than the fireplace ever could. he tells dina about it once, offhandedly, and she just snorts and says, “god, you’ve got it bad.”

maybe he does. but can you blame him? the world’s pretty dark these days, and your laugh—your real, open, no-holding-back laugh—is the one sound he’d risk anything to keep hearing.

__

3. small favors

you mentioned it once, offhandedly, while trying to zip up your jacket: “stupid thing always gets stuck.” you didn’t think anything of it. jesse, on the other hand, made a mental note. the next morning, your jacket is hanging on the hook outside your door with a fixed zipper—and a second jacket folded beside it. a better one.

you step outside, holding the note he left: “figured you deserved a jacket that actually works. don’t freeze out there. -j” your chest tightens just a little. it’s small, simple, but the thought behind it runs deep. you don’t even remember telling him that. he listened.

jesse pretends he didn’t do anything big. just shrugs when you thank him, gives you a crooked smile, and says, “can’t have my patrol partner freezing to death, right?” but the way he watches your hands test the zipper—how he lingers just a second longer than necessary—you know it meant more than that.

__

4. watching her from across the room

jesse sips his drink slowly, leaning back against the bar wall as his eyes find you across the crowded room. you’re laughing with dina and ellie, half-lit by the soft yellow glow of the hanging lights. your head is tilted back, your hands moving as you talk. he couldn’t hear what you’re saying even if he wanted to. doesn’t matter. he’s memorizing you like it’s the last time he’ll get to see you like this.

he catches himself staring and quickly looks away, cheeks burning, like some kid in high school. he tries to focus on his drink, makes small talk with seth from the gate shift, but every couple of minutes, his eyes drift back to you like he doesn’t have a choice. you don’t even notice. or maybe you do, but you don’t say anything.

he wonders if you ever think about him the way he thinks about you. probably not. you’re so full of light, and he feels like he’s just orbiting it—close, but never close enough.

__

5. first aid excuse

you trip during a run—nothing serious, just a scrape on your hand. the kind that stings more than it bleeds. you're brushing it off when jesse sees it, his expression tightening instantly. "hold still," he says, pulling his bag around. "you should let the medic—" you start, but he cuts you off with a firm, “i’ve got it.”

he works with gentle fingers, more careful than he probably needs to be. the bandaid is crooked. the antiseptic stings. but it’s the way he’s looking at your hand—like it’s precious—that makes your throat tighten. he keeps glancing up at you, checking if you're okay, like that tiny wound meant the world.

jesse doesn't say why he insisted. doesn’t explain the slight tremble in his hands or the way his jaw clenches when he sees you flinch. but it’s written all over him: the fear of losing you, even to something small.

__

6. that moment of silence

you brush snow off his shoulder after a long, cold patrol. just a quick, casual gesture—barely even thinking about it. but jesse freezes. his breath catches mid-laugh, and you don’t notice at first because you’re already walking ahead. his heart’s thudding, fast and loud in his ears.

your hand had been warm through his coat. gentle. like it belonged there. it was such a small thing, but to jesse, it felt like the earth shifted. he stands there for a second longer, staring at your retreating form with that look on his face again. like he’s stuck between wonder and heartbreak.

he jogs to catch up, cracking a joke to break the tension. you smile. he grins back. but he can still feel where you touched him—and he doesn’t want to brush it off.

__

7. protective much?

you’re talking to some new guy at the bar, nothing flirty, just conversation. but jesse sees it from across the room and his stomach twists. he’s across the floor before he can stop himself, sliding in beside you with a hand on the back of your chair and a way-too-casual, “hey, didn’t know you were out tonight.”

the guy picks up on it immediately and drifts off after a minute. you raise an eyebrow at jesse. “everything okay?” “yeah,” he says, too quickly. “just… keeping an eye out.”

jesse doesn’t admit it, but he hates the idea of anyone else getting close to you. he knows it’s selfish. he knows he doesn’t have any right. but it doesn’t stop his heart from racing every time someone tries.

__

8. birthday

you didn’t tell anyone it was your birthday. didn’t think it mattered. but when you step outside your cabin that morning, there’s a little wooden wolf carved from pine sitting on your step, with a note: “don’t forget you matter. -j”

your breath catches. it’s small, worn, clearly hand-carved. you trace the lines of it with your thumb and suddenly the world feels a little less cold. jesse didn’t say anything in person. he didn’t make a big deal. but that quiet gift, that little reminder—it’s exactly what you needed.

you find him later and just hug him, no words. jesse tenses for a moment, surprised, then melts into it. he presses his chin lightly to the top of your head and doesn’t let go for a long time.

__

9. snowball war

you hit him square in the back with a snowball mid-patrol, grinning like a maniac. jesse turns around slowly, fake-offended. “oh, it’s on.”

what starts as one snowball turns into a full-on war. you’re both laughing, ducking behind trees, slipping on ice, shouting through the trees like you’re kids again. jesse loses a glove, gets snow down his back, but he doesn’t care. not when you’re smiling like that.

when he finally tackles you into the snow, pinning you playfully, his face hovers just inches from yours. and for a second, everything’s quiet. the laughter fades. just you and him, breathless in the snow. his heart hammers. he almost kisses you. almost.

__

10. confession

you’re both sitting near the fire after a close call—breathing hard, clothes torn, blood drying on your hands. neither of you speaks for a while, the silence stretching long and heavy, the kind that only follows real fear. jesse stares at the flames, jaw tight, eyes distant. you glance over, trying to read him, but he’s somewhere else. somewhere scared.

“you okay?” you ask softly.

he doesn’t look at you when he says it. “if you’d died back there, i don’t know what i would've done.”

you blink, caught off guard. “jesse…”

“no,” he interrupts, finally turning to face you. “just let me say it. i’m tired of pretending like you’re just a friend. tired of acting like i’m not completely in love with you.” his voice shakes, like the words cost him something. “every time we go out there, i think about what it’d do to me if you didn’t come back.”

you don’t respond with words. you just reach forward, take his face in your hands, and kiss him.

he reacts instantly—like he’s been holding back for years. his hands settle on your hips, pulling you closer, and it’s not frantic, not rushed. it’s relief. it’s soft, lingering, full of things neither of you had said until now. his lips are warm, familiar, a little desperate. when you finally pull back for air, your foreheads rest together.

“i’m right here,” you whisper. “i’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

jesse smiles, all breathless and stunned, and leans in to kiss you again—slower this time, like he doesn’t want to forget a single second of it.

[juliettejwnewinesa]

can i request a baku fic where reader is flirting or smt like that with the basketball team and baku sees and gives her backshots & teachers her a lesson 🙏

Title: Shut Up and Take It Pairing: Hong Humin x Fem!Reader (Y/N) Word Count: ~6,300 Rating: 🔞 NSFW / 18+ Tags: dom!Humin, jealous!Humin, rough sex, backshots, semi-public, possessiveness, marking, humiliation kink, hair pulling, light spanking, creampie, degradation, light choking, no aftercare, canonverse, third person POV, fem!reader

[CW: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. DO NOT PROCEED IF UNDER 18.]

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

Shut Up and Take It

The gym echoed with laughter, sneakers squeaking against polished wood. Y/N leaned against the railing on the second floor, a coy smile curling on her lips as she twirled a piece of her hair between her fingers. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, really. Just chatting with the basketball team—being polite, playful. Maybe her skirt was shorter than usual. Maybe she laughed a little too loudly when one of them complimented her thighs.

Down on the court, Humin saw everything.

He stopped mid-dribble, his eyes narrowing as one of the guys leaned in a little too close, saying something that made Y/N press her fingers to her lips and giggle.

Giggle. At him.

Humin’s jaw clenched. He passed the ball off without a word and stalked off the court, ignoring the coach calling after him. The other boys barely noticed—too busy trying to get Y/N’s attention.

She didn’t notice him leave either.

Not until she was pulled into the hallway behind the gym, one strong hand grabbing her wrist and shoving her against a cold cement wall.

“H-Humin?” she gasped, eyes wide.

His eyes were dark. Hard. He didn’t speak. Didn’t ask questions.

Just pinned her with that furious stare and sneered, “You think you're funny?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You think I didn’t see you up there, smiling at those assholes like a desperate little slut?”

Her breath caught. “I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His voice was low. Dangerous. And something inside her fluttered.

She knew that look.

“You want attention, right?” he hissed, stepping closer until their bodies were flush. “You wanna act like a fuckin’ tease in front of everyone? Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Her back hit the wall with a soft thud as his hand gripped her jaw, fingers pressing into her cheeks.

“You forget who you belong to, Y/N?”

She swallowed thickly. “N-no.”

“Then get on your knees.”

Her stomach twisted, heat blooming between her thighs. “Here?”

“You didn’t care who saw you back there. Why should I?”

She dropped, heart racing. Her hands reached for his belt, but he was already undoing it, pushing his pants down just enough to free himself—thick, already hard, twitching with anticipation.

“Open your mouth.”

She obeyed.

He slid in deep, groaning low in his throat as her lips wrapped around him. His hand tangled in her hair, guiding her with brutal thrusts, hips snapping forward without mercy.

“Look at you,” he spat. “So eager now. Where was this energy when you were laughing with those fucking idiots?”

She gagged, tears forming in her eyes as he pushed deeper. He didn’t let up.

“Eyes up,” he growled. “Wanna see your face while I fuck your mouth.”

Her mascara was smudged, drool slipping from the corners of her lips. She looked ruined already, and he hadn’t even started.

When he finally pulled out, her lips were swollen, chin soaked.

He didn’t give her time to recover. Just grabbed her by the arm and dragged her further down the hallway, toward the back room—the storage area no one used after dark.

The second the door slammed shut behind them, he spun her around and bent her over a stack of folded mats.

“You want them to look at you?” he hissed, yanking her panties down and flipping up her skirt. “Fine. Let them. But only after they see what a fucked-out little toy you are for me.”

She whimpered as he gripped her hips and slammed into her from behind—raw, unfiltered, no teasing.

She cried out, hands scrambling for purchase against the mat.

“Too rough for you?” he mocked, voice tight with restraint. “Thought that’s what you wanted, baby. Acting like a cheap bitch in front of a crowd.”

He fucked her like he hated her—hips pounding into her, one hand gripping her waist while the other wrapped around her throat, pulling her up so her back arched against him.

“You’re mine,” he growled into her ear. “Say it.”

“I’m yours—ah, fuck, Humin—!”

“That’s right. No one else gets to see you like this. No one gets to touch you. You wanna play games? This is how it ends.”

His thrusts were relentless, smacking into her ass over and over, the wet slap of skin echoing off the walls.

He slapped her ass, hard. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!” she sobbed, the stretch and pace overwhelming her. “Only yours!”

“Damn right.”

Her walls clenched around him, her moans louder now, shameless.

“You gonna cum just from backshots?” he sneered. “Fucking pathetic.”

She nodded frantically. “Please—please, I’m close—”

He buried himself deeper, grinding into her.

“Cum then,” he ordered. “Let them hear who owns this pussy.”

She broke apart with a cry, vision blurring as her orgasm slammed into her, waves crashing one after another as he fucked her through it.

“Fuck,” Humin groaned. “So fucking tight—taking me so well.”

He wasn’t far behind. With a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came with a sharp grunt, hot and deep.

She collapsed against the mat, legs trembling, juices dripping down her thighs.

He stayed inside her for a moment, breathing hard, sweat dampening his shirt.

Then he pulled out with a hiss, watching his cum drip from her abused hole.

“Look at this mess,” he muttered, gripping her ass cheeks and spreading them. “Maybe I should leave you like this. Bent over, leaking, so everyone knows.”

She whined, face hot with shame and pleasure.

He grabbed her chin again, forcing her to look up at him.

“Next time you want attention,” he said lowly, “you come to me.”

She nodded, dazed. “Okay…”

He smirked. “Good girl.”

Then he stepped back, zipping up his pants and tossing her panties at her feet.

“Fix yourself before someone sees you,” he added over his shoulder. “Unless you want them to know how full you are.”

And with that, he walked out—leaving her ruined, spent, and marked exactly how he wanted.

Owned.

END

[deadpool15]

Lovers Will

The sun was shining bright out. Almost blinding myself as well as my lovely friend Agnes. It was early. Too early one could even state, the morning started the same as always. Get up, eat my usual breakfast consisting of oatmeal and toast with jelly of course. Then I was off for a morning run. I never enjoyed the run, or the aspect of having to be up so early. Though, I can say the routine brought a sense of relief and familiarity in my life. Something I don’t see a lot, I’m a child actor if you couldn’t tell. Now, don’t get me wrong, acting has always been my passion, I happened to start when I was very young. About 6-months old, like I said quite young. It was just a moment of a production needing a baby and I happened to fit the look. My mother at the time believed it to be cool, or at least something that would earn me bragging rights in Kindergarten. And, I mean it did, for a while after that my acting career was nonexistent. Simply, became a notion of the glory days if I do say so myself.

Later, it turned into something more. It was like an itch that I couldn’t resist. I was obsessed with the people on the screen and I had to become one of them. I threw myself into roles, small things a first but then, life turned around and decided to give me a special chance. I scored the role of Aqua in Avengers: Civil War. Turning myself into this badass alien kid which uncontrollable powers. It was amazing, shortly after that the roles just started coming to me. For the first time, people were looking at me. Genuinely, looking and past the smiles on the carpets and the clothes. They were talking about my skills, my acting. It felt surreal to say the least. Life couldn’t get any better after that. Though, it seems like most things life can give you things you truly want and then find a way to make sure you never get it again, until you’re ready.

While on a much needed vacation, I took sometime to visit the farmland. Montana is definitely not everyone’s favorite choice when it comes to a moment of peace. I needed realism, animals had always made me feel comfortable, more so than reporters have done. It was an unforgettable experience for me, the heat was intense. Spending time in bars wasn’t my goal but it happened. Until, one night a man came. A face I had seen before, yet I couldn’t put a finger on. A shy smile here and there lead to a night of insane laughter, happiness. In the mornings we lay in each other’s arms, talk about our favorite things, and at nights we dance until our feet hurt. Laughed until our stomachs couldn’t take it anymore, staring into tho blue eyes was like floating in the my beautiful ocean without a care in the world. He had that effect on people. We never crossed the line of physical intimacy, I’d just never been ready. Didn’t know what I was quite waiting for, because I was sure he was the one. It was scary, I’d never felt this before, never wanted to think about leaving him or going back to the real world. But things aren’t always meant to work out the way you want it. Before, I know it, I’d gotten a call back. Sinners, I realized all this time out here playing normal made me forget about my real life. I had to wake up soon and it hurt.

I had to leave without as much as a goodbye. It was just too difficult. I threw myself into my work. Using all my tools and emotions to just focus on my character, the pain that I was constantly experiencing went straight into her. Sooner, or later I heard about the marvel movie, I didn’t want to waste and second and auditioned right away. I figured if I wasn’t granted even just a moment to think about myself or anything because I was simply too busy. I wouldn’t have to constantly think about Lewis. I ignored everything, the calls, texts. I was terrified, these feelings were eating me up from the inside it was started to show. Michael managed to see this and took it upon himself to make me feel better at all times. Now to me he was the best friend anyone could ask for, but to the media he was a heartthrob who had just set his eyes on yours truly. I never made a comment about it, the glances or the touches. That was just how he was, I let them pain the narrative they wanted. My mind was too consumed with those baby blue eyes.

“Two movies released in the same year the hell you trynna do, give out girl.” He had stated after finding out about the marvel movie. I realized later why I thought Lewis had such a notable face. Nepo baby. He was the son of actor Bill Pullman. To make matters worse he was also in Thunderbolts. I avoided him like the plague. It was genuinely concerning to the other cast. They’d created this idea that I hated him, though I figure I didn’t quite help with me constantly acting repulsed by his mere presence. If we had scenes together which in my case Lucy wasn’t on my side. I’d do the work and hurry up to leave before he could start a conversation. On a side note when Flo invited all of us to her current apartment she was renting in LA for the time being to celebrate our hard work, it became clear I didn’t want to be around him so Flo tried and well let’s just say it didn’t work out.

“So, what’s it with you and Pullman, huh? A bad breakup or is he just secretly an asshole and is very good at acting.” She stared at me waiting for a response with a bear in her hand. Blonde hair slicked back, with a smile that I could say men would go to war for, if I’m being honest.

“Nothing, you’re just thinking too hard about it, he is just a dude.” A look of absolute disbelief had taken over her face. She didn’t buy it. Of course she didn’t, Flo had never exactly been the type to let things go. Especially, if she had a feeling about it.

“Oo, I get it. You two have shagged, right? He must’ve been had for you to ignore him like you do.” She laughed after her statement.

“W-what no we didn’t shag, that sounds wildly inappropriate Flo. Why would you think that?” Turning red would’ve been my initial reaction had my skin been pale.

“There isn’t anything wrong with it, I mean I’ve slept with a coworker it’s fine we have all been there. That’s the only reason you would avoid someone like you have, I mean you have gone to great lengths to not be around him. Or unless you’re like in love with him and you know scared to tell him.” The deadly silence was confirmation enough to her statement.

“Wait, omg you’re in love with him aren’t you? Jesus, shit how didn’t we pick up on that. I mean he loves you too that’s obvious, always around here looking like a kicked puppy every time he can’t speak to you or when you leave the room.”

That couldn’t be true, Lewis could never love me. We would never fit, he would grow bored of him, he would hate me. It couldn’t work. Never, he needs something else. “I don’t love him, what are you even talking about? You’re drunk that’s what it is, I don’t even like him, he’s boring and a loser. Definitely not my type.” After my extremely loud outburst, I failed to notice how silent the room had become. And how Flo had been trying to tell me that someone else had arrived to the party. Turning my head slowly I see Lewis, I couldn’t my eye contact even though he tried. I felt like an asshole.

“Thanks for sharing, Lia. You really know how to make a guy feel special. I’m gonna go guys, early start in the morning.” After those fatal words he left. Almost as if he wasn’t there to begin with. Or maybe that’s what I tried to convince myself as everyone looked at me. Pity. I could see if in their faces, my feelings were obvious to anyone with eyes. In my head it was just easier to tell myself Lewis couldn’t be with me, he was meant for someone more his pace, famous parents, long straight hair and white. I was my own form of destruction. I was my own enemy.

Could he ever actually be with me, love me? Questions that plagued my mind as I replayed the face of emotional turmoil on his face when he heard me utter those words. What was wrong with me. To make matters worse press tours were coming up, how could I face the world if I couldn’t even face the man I love?

[backwardshatnick]

𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌

in which chris receives a song request from an anonymous, old pal.

wc: 1.3k notes: writing this in honour of taylor getting her songs back :,)) i can finally say that i've always loved the old versions of her songs because TV just don't hit the same IAMSOSORRY. ok bye for now. will be back soon! divider by @bernardsbendystraws :)

The old radio station booth smelled of dusty vinyls and microwave-heated pocket pizzas. Most probably because that is what Chris tends to snack on during his night shift as a college radio DJ. Alongside the numerous crumpled Pepsi cans and mint gum wrappers that he chewed on to keep himself awake. Being a college radio DJ was not exactly a glamorous job, other college students would prefer working in an environment where they could roam around freely and have their sleep schedule undisturbed during the night. But as someone who loved music and had a knack for talking, it was the perfect job for Chris.

It was nearing the end of an uneventful shift for him, a Saturday night where everyone in his social circle was out clubbing, drinking, partying or even stuck deep in their campus library pretending to not be on TikTok for hours. The brunette stood in a squeaky office chair alone, the green glow from the computer screen and console of the booth accompanying him whilst he played song requests that tend to come sporadically.

No one listens to the radio anyway.

Yawning mid-transition of an ABBA track and an indie lo-fi study song, Chris was notified of a new request at the empty queue— a name, message and song title appearing after an online form was filled.

Yes, finally a real request, he thought.

Upon seeing the details, he blankly stared at the screen, the fading electric piano tune and gentle snare of drums played alongside his confusion before he unmuted the mic to introduce the anonymous wish.

“Okay, who’s pranking me right now?” he chuckled, “Looks like we have a mysterious person requesting an infamous teenage angst classic… for me. Unless this is for some other Chris, I guess I'm gonna be serenaded on air. Here’s a throwback to middle school heartbreak, You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift.”

He pressed a few buttons on the console, muting his mic which allowed the first few chords of the song to play. Typically, he would bop his head along to the classics that he knew as a child, but something within Chris’ head nagged at him. The message was intriguing and he understood that it tugged his memories, but who would do such a thing?

Sage, his girlfriend sure loved to play jokes and pranks on him. But it was unusual for her to call during his working hours, especially when she was out at a sorority party with her friends. She was not a big Taylor Swift fan, claiming that it felt too high school for her and it was a phase that she had already outgrown. Considering the time, Sage was probably busy downing shots by now, the chance for her to fill in a form that sober seemed too far. Moreover, she was not the type to exactly write a request as she was not even an avid listener of Chris’ radio segments. Said it was cute, but then simply brushed it off, forgetting about it.

The request felt… different. Something that was carefully chosen and typed. Something that felt personal and not ironic. Nor humorous.

Chris allowed the song to finish, drowning out the last few notes to play out until he unmuted his mic, startling listeners, if there was even any, with a half-laugh on air, “Apparently, that was for me. I don’t know. Thanks Mysterious Requester for the late night serenade. You’ve got great taste in vintage angst.”

After he was done with his short commentary onto why he thinks kitchen tongs would be a perfect weapon against a zombie apocalypse (he debated that the tongs could help in removing the already rotting and peeled-off organs of a zombie), he bid his shift and listeners goodbye with a soft instrumental mix and switched off the lights of the studio, putting his hoodie over the black beanie-clad head while a green backpack clung over one shoulder as the other was putting on a puffer jacket.

Chris opened the door to go outside, waving goodbye to the security guard who knew who he was and tends to listen to his show from time to time, “Nice request ya got there, kid. See ya again next week!”

He was blasted with cool air, the snow now piling up the streets of Boston but he digressed from taking the bus, opting to take a walk instead. Needing some time to think.

“Heard you got a Taylor Swift request last night?” Sage brought up, perched on the edge of his bed, voice casual but knuckles closed into a tight fist, her long burnt orange stiletto nails forming crescents on the inside of her palm.

Chris looked up from his phone and turned around to face her, “Yeah, weird, right? Said it was from someone I had helped once.”

“Helped how?” she questioned, jealousy evident in her tone.

“I dunno,” he shrugged and mindlessly answered, “Maybe someone from my class? The next-door neighbour? Who knows.”

“And she just happens to send a love confession through that song by Taylor Swift?”

“Babe, we don’t even know if it’s a girl. Don’t assume stuff,” Chris answered, voice firm and dominant, clear that he was not in the mood to argue. Especially not on a Sunday afternoon where he was supposed to be spending it with his girlfriend cuddled in between his arms, listening to her talk about last night’s party. The on-going “Will he, will she” between her best friend and a frat brother. The new barman who kept offering her free drinks. Anything.

Chris rested his back against the wall to face Sage, “Besides it wasn’t even a confession. Just an innocent 'thank you'.”

She flicked away his hands that were about to cup her face in reassurance, choosing to cross her arms instead.

“It’s literally a song about stealing someone’s boyfriend, Chris.”

He winced at her actions, eyebrows now raised, “Well, if you put it like that…”

“Right,” her voice flat as her phone buzzed, “You know what? I’m gonna go out. I need some rest.”

Sage stormed out of his room and out of his house, not bothering to say goodbye when she was met with a long silence from Chris, the stillness stretching between them like radio static when he did not answer right away.

Sending her off through his bedroom window on the second floor of his house, he glanced over at the house next door. Brick red walls pestered with ivy but front porch still lively and festive with a bunch of decorated Christmas trees, big red bows and a wreath made of acorns, ivy and poinsettias hung in contrast against their beige-coloured door.

The view of their porch was not the only thing visible from his windows as his room was located adjacent to a particular room. He could faintly see someone's silhouette against the lavender curtains, sitting at their bedroom window with their head down, as if writing something.

Chris tried to remember the girl who used to live there and how she looked like, until a memory played in his head like an old 16mm film, grainy and blurry scenes against a sepia landscape; the voice of a crying girl, the loud bark of a golden retriever followed by the giggling and warm laughter bringing him back to when they first met as tweens.

Could it be her? he said to himself in the silence.

Later that week, during his next shift, Chris refreshed the request queue obsessively, hoping for another ‘Anonymous’ to pop up with a message directed to him. But to no avail.

He played the usual tracks, not ABBA this time, but a classic Fleetwood Mac song and some disco from the Bee Gees before he closed it off with the finishing lo-fi instrumental mix that he always played for students who came across his show while studying.

But somewhere between the static and the tune of the gentle bass guitar humming throughout the booth, Chris found himself staring into the distance, wondering if she was listening to the radio station, or specifically his segment, at this late hour.

The thought of her filled his head as he continued to look vacantly and wonder why that idea did not feel weird at all.

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

yoo can u write a ningning one-shot 🙏🥀

“Sick Day Spoils”

Synopsis: You’re the campus basketball ace, but when your best friend Ningning falls sick, you skip practice to take care of her—spoiling her with food, comfort, and the kind of quiet affection you still can’t bring yourself to say out loud.

Word Count: 2,936

NingNing X Male Reader

It was just another ordinary Friday.

You woke up to the sound of your third alarm buzzing like a wasp under your pillow. The morning sun leaked through the blinds, warm but annoying, casting lines across your face. You groaned, lazily brushing your hand across your phone to silence the noise, rubbing sleep from your eyes as your body protested the start of another day.

Lecture at nine. Training after. Another lecture in the afternoon. Maybe some team review after that. You already knew the drill. You could walk through the day half-asleep and still hit your marks—except for class. That part you were half-asleep for.

After rushing through your morning routine, hair still a bit damp from your two-minute shower, you threw on your jacket and jogged across campus to your lecture hall, toast barely finished in your mouth. The classroom was the same as always: too cold, faint smell of whiteboard markers, and half the class already dozing off five minutes in. You slouched into your seat, chin in hand, pretending to listen.

Your pen hovered over your notes but you didn’t write a thing. Instead, your mind wandered—to tomorrow’s game, to whether your coach would rotate the second-string in, and... to Ningning.

You wondered why she hadn’t texted you good morning. She usually did. Something stupid like “I hope your sleepy jock brain doesn’t forget your quiz today” or “Don’t fall asleep with your eyes open again.” That kind of teasing that only she got away with.

You checked your phone once. Then again. Nothing.

Shrugging it off, you shuffled out of class and made your way to the court.

Basketball. Finally.

The moment your shoes hit the polished wood, it was like the world outside blurred out. This—this was where you belonged. You could screw up a pop quiz, but on this court, you were the answer.

The team was already warming up when you arrived, and a few lazy passes later, the scrimmage began.

You started strong, but your focus didn’t last.

Your eyes drifted. You found yourself scanning the bleachers during every pause, every whistle, like she might suddenly be sitting there, sipping on some convenience store iced coffee, waving at you with that smug little smile.

Then—“Yo, Ace. Focus, will ya? We’re down by five.”

A nudge pulled you out of it. Your teammate gave you a knowing look, sweat dripping from his temple as he laughed under his breath.

“You looking for Ningning again?”

You blinked, caught.

“What? I’m not—no. Shut up.”

You scoffed and turned away, bouncing the ball once.

“Yeah, right.”

He jogged ahead, still chuckling.

You hated that he could read you so easily.

But Ningning had that effect on people—on you especially.

She wasn’t just some campus celebrity or a president behind a podium. She was your person. From helping each other cram for finals in your first year to late-night walks after council meetings or away games, she had always been there. A constant. Reliable. Bright.

Perfect, in that annoying way that made you feel safe and challenged all at once.

And maybe you’d fallen for her somewhere along the way.

Maybe you were still falling.

But you kept that part quiet. Pressed down. Hidden beneath every joke, every casual text.

The game ended, one point short. Coach didn’t seem to mind—it was just practice. But as you wiped your sweat and slung a towel over your neck, he walked over quietly.

“Y/N, you seem off today. Something wrong?”

You sighed.

“Not really. Just… not in the mood to play.”

You didn’t even try to cover it up. He gave a short nod, hand on your shoulder, and didn’t press any further.

You packed your things slowly, dragging your steps out of the gym as dusk began to color the sky. Campus always had that calm glow in the late afternoon—the kind where the world slowed down just a little. Some students lounged on the grass, chatting quietly. Someone was strumming a guitar near the dorm steps. Lights flickered on across the buildings, one by one.

You found a bench near the courtyard and finally checked your phone.

Still nothing.

You scrolled through your message thread with Ningning, letting your thumb hover over old texts, rereading the ones that made you laugh. Her voice almost echoed in your head—her dry jokes, her unexpected sass, her concern when you were too tired to hide it.

Then, right as your chest started to ache in that dull, quiet way...

“Backreading, dork? Missed me already, huh?”

Your heart jumped.

You sat up a little straighter, tapping out your reply instantly:

“No. Just wondering if you were dead or not.”

Double text.

“What’s up?”

A pause. She was probably curled up under a blanket somewhere, typing slowly with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks.

Her reply came a second later:

“Nothing much. Just missed a day. I have a fever.”

“But I’ll be back on campus tomorrow, hopefully.”

Double text. As always.

You didn’t know why it comforted you so much.

Maybe it was the way she never left you hanging.

Maybe it was just her.

You leaned back on the bench, letting the evening breeze cool your skin.

The stars were barely visible yet, but you stared at the sky anyway.

You texted back something like “don’t push yourself” or “get some rest,” but you hovered for a long time before hitting send. You wanted to say more. Wanted to say I missed you or you were the only one I was thinking about on that court today.

But all you managed was:

“please message me about your day next time, so I don’t worry about you.”

The next day came.

Another sunrise, another cup of weak vending machine coffee, another half-hearted class where the professor droned on about topics that felt miles away from where your head was.

Still no sign of Ningning.

You checked the front rows during your lecture—her usual spot by the window, where she'd rest her chin on her palm and type furiously on her laptop, wasn’t filled. Even her water bottle wasn’t there.

That spot felt wrong when she wasn’t in it.

No one else seemed to notice. But you did. Every time.

By noon, you were back on the court again. Sneakers squeaking, the sharp echo of the ball against hardwood filling the air. Your teammates joked around during warm-ups, but you kept glancing toward the gym doors like a ghost of her might walk in mid-laugh, earbuds in and a little bag of snacks in hand.

She never did.

“I’ve seen this look on you before.”

Your teammate’s voice pulled you back.

He jogged up beside you, lightly bouncing the ball. His smirk said everything before the words left his mouth.

“Let me guess. Ningning still not here?”

You didn’t say anything, just grabbed the ball and started walking.

“Yeah, nobody knows why,” he added, nudging you with his elbow. “Maybe you do?”

“Just play defense, you lousy player,” you muttered, hiding the half-smile that pulled at your lips.

“Ouch,” he said, laughing.

Another practice match. Another loss—three points this time.

You weren’t fully there. Again.

As you toweled off and made your way off the court, the same teammate called out to you from behind.

“Hey, Ace—serious question. Is Ningning’s presence your lucky charm or what?”

You threw the towel at him without turning around.

“Shut up, idiot.”

The team’s laughter faded as you stepped out into the open air. It was overcast today, the kind of weather where the clouds felt too heavy and everything moved a little slower.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

At first, you thought it might be your coach or another team announcement—but when you pulled it out, your screen was flooded.

Ningning (19)

Nineteen unread messages.

You blinked, stopping in your tracks as you scrolled.

— “Hey. I just ate some porridge. Still tastes like sadness but warm sadness, you know?”

— “Nurse said I should drink more water but she doesn’t know I’m 90% coffee.”

— “I miss bullying you in class. I feel myself becoming... nice. It’s terrifying.”

— “Okay, fine, I miss you. Don’t get a big head.”

— “Wait did you win today’s practice? If not, I’m blaming your weak knees.”

— “Also, I saw a picture of a cat wearing sunglasses and thought of you. Why? Don’t ask.”

Message after message—updates every hour, every small thought that passed through her head, like a quiet thread tying her day to yours.

She told you what she was eating (“boiled egg, blegh”), what she was watching (“some random documentary on snails, 10/10 would recommend”), how she was feeling (“slightly more alive than a ghost, yay me”), and even what socks she was wearing (“don’t judge me but they don’t match”).

It was her version of a presence.

A digital trail of breadcrumbs leading back to her, letting you know: I’m still here, even if I’m not right beside you.

You sat down on the steps outside the gym, heart a little fuller than before.

You typed back:

“You seriously sent me play-by-plays of your entire day like it’s a K-drama.”

Pause.

“...but thanks.”

And then another message, after a second.

“I kinda missed you too. Don’t get a big head.”

You hesitated.

Then added:

“Campus’s boring without you.”

You stared at the screen for a moment before hitting send.

She didn’t reply right away. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe she was waiting for you to say something more.

But it didn’t matter. She was still here.

But then… you had enough.

All her messages—every cute, dumb little update she sent—had slowly shifted in tone. Her jokes were getting shorter. Her replies more spaced out. Her last message?

“Think my fever’s going up again lol... I feel like a soggy tissue”

That was it.

No more waiting around.

You opened the chat and typed without thinking:

“I’m going there. What do you want?”

No context. No teasing. No pretending this was casual anymore.

A full minute passed before she replied.

“what do you mean you’re going here?”

“you don’t have to—i’m fine. i think i’ll sleep it off.”

You were already halfway out your door by the time her second message came in.

“don’t be dramatic, Y/N.”

You scoffed to yourself as you zipped up your jacket.

If she was saying you were dramatic, then yeah, she was definitely worse than she was letting on.

You stopped by the convenience store—ramyeon, banana milk, a cold pack, a fever pad, and that vitamin drink in the ugly yellow bottle she always whined about but still drank.

By the time you arrived at her dorm building, the sky had turned an overcast blue, and the wind was sharp enough to sting your fingers. You buzzed up, but she didn’t answer. So you texted:

“I’m here. Open your damn door before I climb the building.”

It took a minute, but finally you heard the door unlock, slowly creaking open.

There she was.

Her hoodie practically swallowed her whole, sleeves drooping over her hands. Her hair was messy—pillow-creased and falling into her face. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, eyes half-lidded and dull, but she still tried to smile.

“You’re such an idiot.”

You stepped inside without a word and closed the door behind you.

“Sit down,” you said. Your voice was firm, maybe more than you intended. She blinked at you, surprised.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t argue.”

She blinked again but obeyed, slowly dragging herself to the bed like a deflating balloon.

You unpacked the bag, setting the food aside for later. You took out the cold pack, the fever pad, and the yellow vitamin drink. Popped the cap, walked over, and handed it to her.

“Drink.”

“Bossy,” she murmured, but took it from your hand anyway.

She made a face when she swallowed.

“Ugh. Still gross.”

“Still better than you fainting in your dorm alone.”

Her smile faded a little. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but the silence after made you realize: you really were scared. Even if you never said it.

You sat next to her as she lay back down. You didn’t say anything at first. Just carefully placed the cold pack against her forehead and peeled the fever pad, sticking it gently to the side of her temple.

Your hand hovered for a second—just a second—before brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.

“I would’ve come sooner if I knew it was this bad,” you said quietly.

She closed her eyes.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Gross. Weak. Pathetic.”

You shook your head. “You look like a tired bunny. That’s all.”

She huffed a laugh, the sound barely there.

“Thanks… for coming.”

You leaned back in the chair beside her bed, arms crossed, your voice quieter now.

“Next time, just tell me when it’s bad.”

“But you’d worry.”

You looked at her, eyes soft. “I already do.”

She blinked slowly at that, her gaze resting on you for a long time before she finally let sleep pull her under.

You stayed.

Even after she dozed off, cheeks still red and chest rising slowly.

You stayed in the chair, scrolling your phone idly, glancing at her every few minutes, just making sure she was still breathing fine.

And for the first time in two days… you weren’t checking your messages waiting for her to text.

Because she was right there.

And you weren’t leaving.

You didn’t leave her side after she fell asleep.

Not even when your phone buzzed with your teammates' messages asking where the hell you were. Not even when your stomach growled or when your hoodie got too warm. You stayed, right there on the chair next to her bed, head tilted back, eyes flicking between her sleeping face and the plastic bag of groceries you'd brought.

After maybe an hour, she stirred.

"You're still here?" she mumbled, voice thick and groggy.

You stood up and leaned over her. "Obviously. Who else is gonna feed you your overpriced banana milk?"

She blinked up at you, confused, then reached a hand out with zero strength in her wrist. You caught it halfway and placed the straw to her lips.

"There. Royal service. All-inclusive."

She sipped it slowly, looking up at you with glassy eyes.

"You’re being suspiciously nice," she murmured between sips. "You trying to kill me with kindness?"

"You wish."

When she finished the drink, you wiped her mouth with the corner of your sleeve—gently, carefully. She didn't even flinch. Just watched you with tired eyes, expression unreadable.

Later, after she drifted back to sleep, you snuck out for a bit—just to the store down the street.

You came back with another bag full of things: cut fruit, fresh soup from the deli counter, two kinds of bread rolls, another banana milk just in case, and—maybe a little overkill—a soft, tan-colored stuffed bunny with a stitched ribbon around its neck.

You placed everything on her small desk and walked back to her side.

"Hey."

You nudged her shoulder lightly. "Wake up. I brought you the entire damn grocery store."

She opened one eye, then both, blinking rapidly.

"Y/N... you didn’t need to—"

"I know. That’s why I did it." You grinned, offering the bunny first. "Here. For when I'm not around to baby you."

She stared at it.

"Is this… a guilt gift?"

"Nah. This is a ‘you better hug this and think of me’ gift."

She took it, and to your surprise, she hugged it immediately to her chest.

"It’s stupid soft."

"Like me."

She snorted. "You’re so annoying."

But she smiled. And you could see it—the way her fingers stayed curled in the bunny’s ear, how she leaned into her pillow a bit more like her body was relaxing for the first time all day.

As the sky darkened outside, you helped her sit up properly to eat. You even blew on the soup before handing her a spoon.

"Okay, say ahh."

"I’m not five."

"You’re acting like it."

"Shut up."

Still, she let you feed her a couple bites. Then insisted on feeding herself. But every now and then, she’d lean her head on your shoulder between bites, mumbling nonsense.

"You know..." she mumbled, "if you keep spoiling me like this, I’ll expect it every time I get sick."

"Good."

"Then I’ll get sick on purpose."

"Please don’t. You look like a sleepy ferret."

She giggled weakly. "You’re lucky I’m too tired to punch you."

After dinner, she slid back down into bed, clutching the bunny and curling into herself.

You sat beside her again, this time on the bed’s edge.

She peeked at you through half-lidded eyes.

"Hey..."

"Hm?"

"Thanks for coming."

She blinked slowly. "Even if you act like a jerk sometimes."

You looked down at her—blanket tangled around her legs, the bunny squished against her chest, her cheeks flushed and warm.

And maybe it was selfish, but you didn’t want to leave.

So you said softly, more to yourself than to her—

"I’ll always come."

She didn’t respond. Maybe she was already asleep.

But her hand reached out under the blanket. And without a word, she found your fingers and held them.

Weak, soft, like she just needed to feel that you were there.

You stayed until the morning.

And probably would’ve stayed longer if she hadn’t kicked you awake for snoring too close to her ear.

But even then, when she was back to calling you an idiot with soup stains on her shirt—

You didn’t mind

[eriace]

like you ; tadashi yamaguchi

oneshot & fluff ↪ in which y/n accidentally confesses a years-long crush on tadashi yamaguchi while helping him study, and realizes maybe—just maybe—the feeling was mutual all along. ↷ yamaguchi tadashi ; haikyuu ( ft. male reader )

↳ an order of caramel macchiato + hot chocolate from anonymous in the comeback cafe event !

THERE WERE STACKS of textbooks between them, highlighters scattered across the table, and the quiet hum of late afternoon seeping in through the open window.

Tadashi was chewing on the tip of his pen, brows furrowed, completely focused on the math problem in front of him.

And y/n?

Y/n was staring. Again.

He didn’t mean to. Really.

It wasn’t his fault that Tadashi looked kind of pretty in the sunlight, or that his hair was always just slightly messy like he’d been running a hand through it out of nervous habit, or that his lips curved up when he was concentrating, like he was smiling at numbers.

It also wasn’t his fault that this crush had been hanging around since they were kids.

He’d met Tadashi through Tsukishima, way back when playgrounds still felt too big and backpacks hung awkwardly off their shoulders.

The day he saw some brat push Tadashi near the bike racks, y/n had stepped in. Tsukishima had followed a few seconds later, grumbling, "this is dumb," but still walking home with both of them after that.

Since then, they were inseparable. A strange triangle of energy: Tsukki’s quiet sarcasm, Y/n’s chaotic warmth, and Tadashi’s bright-hearted everything. Somewhere along the way, the warmth Y/n offered Tadashi grew teeth—little moments that sank into his chest and stayed.

Like when Tadashi started laughing more. Like when he held onto y/n’s sleeve without thinking. Like now.

“You’re staring again,” Tadashi mumbled, not looking up from the worksheet.

Y/n jolted. “I am not.”

“You are. You do that when I’m stuck.”

“I do it when I’m bored.”

“Rude.”

Y/n smirked, but the heat crawling up his neck betrayed him. He leaned forward, chin on his arms, and glanced at the half-solved problem.

“You forgot to distribute here,” he pointed lazily. “You always forget when you're nervous.”

Tadashi flushed, flipping the pencil in his hand. “I'm not nervous.”

“You always are when I sit this close.”

There was a pause.

And then Tadashi’s eyes flicked up, shy and startled all at once. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/n blinked. Wait. What was that supposed to mean?

He meant to tease. Meant to make it playful.

But the air had stilled, caught on something fragile and floating between them.

Y/n sat up slowly, scratching the back of his neck.

“…I guess it means I like sitting this close,” he said. Carefully. Then, with a tiny laugh, added, “But not just for helping with math.”

Tadashi blinked again.

“Y-you mean…”

“I mean… I’ve kind of had a thing for you since middle school. You wore this dumb yellow hoodie with too-long sleeves, and you said I made you feel safe, and I think I’ve been gone ever since.”

Tadashi’s pencil clattered to the table.

Silence.

Then—

“I still have that hoodie.”

Y/n looked up, confused.

Tadashi was pink in the cheeks, but his voice was clear now. “I wear it when I miss you.”

Y/n stared.

Tadashi glanced down, fidgeting. “I… kinda hoped you liked me. I just… didn’t wanna ruin what we had.”

“So you do like me?”

Tadashi nodded, then smiled—soft and warm, like sunrise.

“Yeah. Since you punched that guy in the face for calling me weak.”

Y/n groaned. “That was not my best moment.”

“It kind of was.”

They sat in that strange silence again, but now it was something else. Something comfortable. Sweet.

Y/n grinned, nudging him with his elbow.

“So... can I kiss you? Or do we have to finish the math first?”

Tadashi laughed, cheeks red.

“Let’s finish the math.”

Y/n groaned again.

“Ugh. You’re such a nerd.”

Tadashi smirked, scribbling on his worksheet. “You like me like that.”

And yeah—Y/n really, really did.

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.

[fluermer]

Small town boyfriend Toji head-canons!

a/n: wrote this while listening to Crush by Ethel Cain...he's so ugghh!

small town boyfriend!toji who begrudgingly downloads a dating app after a concerning long dry spell and can't believe his eyes when he sees your pic. Who thinks you can't be real because he sure would have noticed someone so beautiful in town by now...

small town boyfriend!toji who powers his phone off and back on when the notification pops up saying it's a match because surely this was some kind of error.  Whose mouth goes dry when you send the first text and can't hardly type 'sure' quick enough when you actually want to meet. Who's confident your messing with him  as he agrees to pick you up .

small town boyfriend!toji who lets baby Megumi help him pick which flowers to get you and picks the best one of his three 'good shirts' to wear to see you, practically sweating through it as he drives thirty minutes in the opposite direction from the diner to pick you up, not that he'd tell you.

small town boyfriend!toji who can't believe his eyes when he sees you in person because your photos are pretty but you...your everything in person. Who realizes maybe this place isn't a total shithole as he finds himself laughing and talking more with you than he has with anyone in a long time through the whole night.

small town boyfriend!toji Who prays you'll want to see him again the whole way back to your place, who gives a gruff "I'd like that" when you finally do.

small town boyfriend!toji who delete the stupid app after the first date, and knows your the one by the second. Who saves your number with a tired smile before he sleeps.

small town boyfriend!toji who's an old-fashioned man and knows to show up ten minutes early to the rest of your dates and waits patiently outside in his truck and new good shirt. Who holds the door open for you wherever you go and tosses down his crumpled dollar bills before you can even reach your purse and tells you you can "Pay him back on the next one" with the same small grin on his scarred lip. (He'll never let you)

small town boyfriend!toji who works a blue collar job and takes up extra jobs in various construction sites to buy you something nice for your birthday, a nice necklace for your date, and forgets all about the new strain in his back when you beam over it. Who's hellbent on getting you earrings to go with it as signs up for another shift.

small town boyfriend!toji who happily waits outside in the dark parking lot outside your work when you stay later than normal. Not because he doesn't trust you to protect yourself but because he doesn't want you to have to.

small town boyfriend!toji who tries to cut his smoking to half a pack a week when you fuss over his cough. Who smokes less in his truck and never before he sees you.

small town boyfriend!toji who has strange scars, a raspy voice, and suspicious income for a blue collar worker that makes your family and friends wary. Who happily takes extra servings of your aunt/mom/grandma/older friend's meal with a sauve 'yes ma'am'.

small town boyfriend!toji who wins them over with his suprisingly wordly knowledge and good manners.

small town boyfriend!toji who's jackets always smell like Marlboro reds and his cologne as he tosses it over your shoulders to keep you from the sudden rain or the cold ac in the stores.

small town boyfriend!toji who gets comfortable enough to sometimes just drive around town with you after you've visited every decent place in town. Playing old rock cds from the 80's as he listens to you yap about your day. Humming every now and then as he clings to ever word.

small town boyfriend!toji who knows he loves you but won't rush you to say it. Who after 2 months tries to show it you and takes you to 'favorite spot' at the edge of town; a small stream hidden by a bramble of trees under the bridge. Who knows he loves you as he teaches you to skip rocks, purposely fumbling a few to hear you laugh.

small town boyfriend!toji who has no interest in shopping or fashion but doesn't complain when you want to visit a thrift store outside town. Who finds he's happy to drive the hour and change when he sees you light up at the aisles, whose mouth goes dry when you try anything on as he nods in approval. Voice gruff as he asks you to turn so he can see the back, who immediately pulls out his wallet when he sees how it fits.

small town boyfriend!toji who knows how to hunt and keeps his rifle and arrow in the backseat Who takes a minute to answer when you suddenly pause your back of truck makeout sesh to ask about the case on the floor, who's already back to kissing your neck as he promises to show you after.

small town boyfriend!toji who is a man of his word in every sense, who knows how many wild animals roam the town and takes you out onto an empty field to show you how to use his rifle... just in case.  Who's hands are calloused and big and warm on your hip as they guide your hand to hold it, who's voice is raspy and low over your shoulder as he directs you. Who whistles a low 'atta girl' when you pierce the empty can.

small town boyfriend!toji who takes you and Megumi to the county fair when it comes to town. Whose heart flutters in a way it hadn't in years when he sees how good you are with him and how much the kid liked you. Who scores a ginormous stuffed blue bear for you and snickers as you try and carry it to the car, Megumi passed out on his hip.

small town boyfriend!toji who realizes he's fucked when he finds himself searching for rings until 2am and invests in a savings account the next day.

small town boyfriend!toji Who saves up enough to take you and Megumi on a real vacation out of this boring town. Who won't tell you where you're going when he invites you on another date past Megumi's bedtime.

small town boyfriend!toji who tells you to open your eyes as he leads you down a trail of candles and your favorite flowers to a pretty spot away from prying eyes.

small town boyfriend!toji who isn't religious but prays to everything above that you'll say yes as he proposes under the stars. Who's usually gruff and indifferent voice gets a little choked up when you do and kisses you like there's no tomorrow.

small town boyfriend!toji who that night gives the stupid dating app a 5 star rating while you sleep on his chest.