#This whole setting is strange I probably should stop rambling about it

[sofasoap]

Lastochka AU : Strange taxi driver

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: New city, new life, new job. What else can go wrong on the first day? AU to my Lastochka series

WARNING: Mature Theme. Crack Fic. I repeat. Crack fic. don't take it so seriously. Swearing, alcohol use, dangerous driving ( drive carefully people).

A/N : The idea stemmed from this post talking about Lyft driver and thank you to @nrdmssgs for nudging me to write a crack fic about it.

masterlist

What a luck.

Or lack of. 

You must have forgotten to pack it and bring it with you when you moved. First, your luggage showed up a week late. Second, your new landlord totally forgot you were arriving. Leaving you standing in the cold and rain for hours. Third, you forgot to adjust your watch and clock to the local time (“who uses old-fashion clock now?!” your brother laughed at you once.) and you had the phone on charge far away from your bedside, alarm ringtone set on minimum volume. So now, you are running late, VERY LATE, for your first day at your new job. 

Definitely not how you imagine how you start your new life in a new place. And the rideshare you called for, is nowhere to be seen. App keep on glitching out. You couldn’t even see what number plate your supposed ride share car is. All you know is a black car. That's it. Fucken absolutely great. You thought. You are probably going to get fired even before you started at this rate. A black coloured sedan suddenly pulled up in front of you.  Without checking the details you quickly piled into the car, assuming it's your driver.. 

“Oh Thank heaven you are here. I am starting to get worried because my app keeps on shutting down on me.” 

“.. Where to?” The driver turned around and asked with a distinctive accented and amused tone. 

Your hand stopped half way clicking in your seatbelt. “Don’t you have it on your....” you mumbled, What kind of odd question is that? Shooting your head back up with alert after a split second, you dart your eyes to all windows, there are no stickers or any sign of this car being a rideshare or a taxi. 

“You are not my rideshare.” Chill ran down the spine with the realisation. For all you know you could have just hopped into a serial killer's car. Oh heaven. Should have stopped listening to those true crime podcasts before you go to sleep. IF you manage to live until tonight. Or survive the next hour. 

“I am not.” he chuckled. Flashing a smile before turning back to face the road and pulling out from the kerb, you cursed yourself not jumping out of the car when you had the chance as you heard the distinctive click of car door locking. 

“But don’t worry. I have extra time in my hand anyway, Lastochka, I will take you anywhere you want. So,” He purred.  “Where to?”

You gulped and gave out your work address. There's no turning back. “ I am running late for work.. My first day at my new job as well. At this rate I am going to get fired before I get there or I am going to have a big warning and bad impression with my new boss....”  You rambled on. Why are you even telling him this? 

“Don’t worry, I am from Russia.” He reassured you with a cocky confidence.

You scrunch your nose with confusion, what is that even supposed to…?

Even before you can finish that thought in your brain, you felt the car surged forward, G-force pushing you right back into the seat. Letting out an undignifying scream as your hands search for anything you can grab onto for dear life.

“Relax, Lastochka, I never had anyone die under my watch.” he laughed. Taking a sharp turn before weaving in and out of the traffic. “Although I had someone falling out from the helicopter after we got shot at with a rocket launcher.” he nodded his head as he recounted the story. “Don’t worry. Happy ending. We all survived. Thanks to my brilliant skills.” 

You are now ninety-nine percent sure you have hopped into some sort of mobster or mafia’s car.

Whole life starts flashing in front of you as you mumble incoherent goodbyes to no one in particular. Ma and Pa. Your annoying but doting brother Johnny. His teammates who treat you like their own. The dog you used to see walking by your house every morning …the rows of pot plants you have on your window sills. Who’s gonna water them after I go?? 

The car comes to an abrupt stop while the brain is trying to decide the flower arrangement of your imaginary funeral in your head. 

“I did say I will get you here on time and still alive, right?” The baritone voice breaks you out of your daze. You are still alive. Thank heaven. 

With your hand over your chest, trying to soothe the thumping heart, you look at the clock on your phone. Damn. he is right, five minutes to spare. 

Then you heard the sound of his mobile phone shrilling and car door unlocking. “You better get going, it seems I am going to be late for my own business. Time to pick up the package.” He winked as you half stumbled out with your messenger bag dragging on the floor. “It was a pleasure to have such a beautiful little bird in my car. Maybe we will see each other again someday?” Giving you one last wave, he sped off into the distance.

Hell no. Once is enough. 

“So you just jumped into a stranger's car and let them take you to work?” Gaz half gasped and laughed as you buried your face in the pint of beer he passed onto you. “You know you could have just rang or message one of us to get you out of deep shit.” 

“I know it’s stupid. Don’t remind me. I was so overwhelmed with panic I didn’t think of it at the time.” you huffed. “You should be surprised I am still in one piece right now and telling you the story.”

“What stupid thing you've been doing again, Mini?” you felt a hand ruffling and messing with your hair as you jumped at the contact. 

“Hello to you too Johnny.” Ignoring his question, you elbowed him lightly before turning around and giving him a hug. “Where’s Simon and Price?”

“Simon is outside havin’ a smoke.” pointing towards the bar serving area with his thumb, “Captain is over there waiting for his drinks and catching up with one of our old friend.” 

Downing the rest of your beer, you stood up from your stool, “I should go and say hi to him. You boys want another drink?”.

Half skipping towards the bar after taking the order from the two, you were in a better mood after seeing your brother and friends, determined to put all the misfortunes and strange events from this morning behind you. 

There you see Price, sitting at the bar, waiting for the bartender making up his drink for him and his friend who he is currently having a quiet conversation with. He spotted you over their shoulder and gave you a quick wave. 

Odd. you thought to yourself. Why does the back side of this … old friend of Price look awfully familiar?

You stopped dead on your track when the person turned around and flashing you with the familiar smirk.

“Hello again, Lastochka.” 

Fucken. Steaming. Jesus. 

Tag list: @homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr @preciouslittlecreature @floral-force @jynxmirage @cumikering @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

@glitterypirateduck @whydoilikewhump

[homestuckdailyweekly]

Homestuck Daily - Week 4/End of Month 1 - 5/11/2024

Today marks the end of the first month of my real time Homestuck reread. If my math is correct (and that is a big if), I have 83 months of reading Homestuck left. Based on some more math, I first read Homestuck roughly 50 months ago. I don't know what point I am making with this, except for the fact that time is long and strange.

If I am being honest, I am finding it a hard time to write this update, because it feels like basically nothing happened this entire week. It probably doesn't help that I've been playing Hades 2, an extremely fun and good game, all week. So everything I have to say about this week of Homestuck is colored by an implicit "And I read this instead of playing Hades 2 in that exact moment." Hell, I could be playing Hades 2 right now, but I am writing this instead.

In case you haven't noticed, dear reader that definitely exists, I don't exactly know what I'm doing with this one here. I know, after I worked so hard on developing a strict and rewarding format these past few weeks, I'm throwing it all away to ramble here and now. The thing you need to know about me, though, is that I make terrible decisions. Always have, always will. I promise I'll get to a point, but we'll get there on my own time.

Where was I. Oh right. 50 months ago. Valentines Day 2020. That was the day I began my first Homestuck read through. My girlfriend at the time- she would break up with me a few months later for non-Homestuck related reasons- was a Homestuck fan, and had tried and failed to convince me to read the comic before. We even spent a date night playing friend sim, which I tried my best not to be confused by. Well, Valentines day came, and I decided I would finally relent to my girlfriend's recommendation, and I spent the day reading Homestuck in my college dorm room. And when I started, I did not stop. Not for a long time. You see, it was a Friday, a Friday very early in the semester, in fact. I had nothing I needed to do and 3 whole days where I did not need to treat myself as a human being. I denied myself food, water, sleep, and human dignity as I read Homestuck, all the while texting my girlfriend my reactions. I think the only time I took a break that weekend was on Saturday, to play in a Vampire the Requiem game I had recently joined. I don't know exactly how far through Homestuck I had gotten when I attended the game- but it was further than a person should be less than 24 hours after starting the webcomic.

Which brings me to my point. How quickly into my binge did I get to the parts of this comic that has now taken me a month to reach? An hour? Less than that? I don't know and am unwilling to do the work to find that out. I don't think I had gone all-in on Homestuck at this point, but I do remember being entertained by the Sylladex fuckery that was going on. I found it intriguing, this little puzzle of mechanics, the audience and John struggling against an unintuitive game mechanic that refused to make things easy. That was 50 months ago. So far on my read through, all I really feel as I get to each new gag about Sylladexes is "Oh, today is just this, huh." A part of me is sad and disappointed these gags aren't landing for me in the way they once had. A part of me is worried what else in this comic will suffer with the addition of time. But then I got to the last page of this week's updates, page 137, a loading animation for SBURB set to Sburban Jungle by Michael Guy Bowman, and that worry melts away.

Sburban Jungle is a song that lights my imagination ablaze with visions of epic machinations. I am the kind of person who listens to music not just because I like a song, but because that song puts images in my head that I can't tear myself from exploring as fully as I can. Even back when I was a kid in highschool, I would spend my bus rides home listing to my ipod, imagining grand adventures and fantastic scenes set to whatever music I was listening to. Sburban Jungle brings me back to those days, I think. That feeling that I find so hard to describe right now is part of why I love Homestuck, I think. It is a story about 4 kids, friends, playing a game together. A game where anything can be possible. A game where music brings actions scenes of epic and mythical scale- like the kind I would think about on the bus ride home- to life. That game hasn't started yet, we are still playing a game I'd like to call "Inventory Management if the Inventory Management hated you". But we'll get there eventually.

I have read Homestuck in realtime for 1 month. I will continue this for 83 more months. There'll be many months where I read nothing, and I'll need to think up something to post during those weeks. There'll be months where I'll struggle to keep everything I want to discuss in individual coherent posts. Homestuck is a land of contrasts, and I am going to experience those contrasts in the fullness of time's length. This is a terrible idea, but those are my favorite kinds.

Now that this is written and done with, time to play some more Hades 2.

[prince-of-khrysalis]

LOVE UR PIRATES...now let's see the wizards

YESSS TY LETS GOOO (Once again I have a whole lotta wizards and I ramble a lot so I'll just pick a few!! For now.) OKAY!! Let's start with her highness, Persephone Solanaceae! Who is not, in fact, actually royal. But a Marleybonian noble known more for her infamous family name (and the horrible, terrible, fantastical rumors that surround it) rather than her actual title itself as the Heiress.

Growing up in a rather unorthodox setting (A mad scientist father will do that to you), Persephone has always been a bit off. And that is aside from the fact that she’s mean as sin and just awful to be around, as if she wouldn’t spit on you and call you peasant trash for breathing her air. (you may get the feeling you’re not actually the thing she’s so angry and disgusted with, hm!). She’s a necromancer with immense magical skill and knowledge, despite being perhaps one of the most glass glass-cannons to ever live. It surprised everyone when she volunteered to take the place of “The Savior Of The Spiral” after the original was put out of commission (Strange, some think, suspicious, others think), and she became intensely dedicated to this task. Grumpily so. Angrily so. Thinks everyone is annoying, thinks the Spiral should stop trying to die every other week. All in all though she may have an impressively vile personality she... appears to be trying to help. Or maybe she's just trying to avoid going back home to her manor in Marleybone. A prissy little rich thing with too many secrets.

And her (probably future girlfriend) Lilith Vitae! My awful not-so-little theurgist! Persephone and her are... opposites in MOST ways, so they have been petty rivals since childhood. And by petty I mean It's On Sight, they will fight! Lilith comes from a much more humble upbringing and is super, super upset about being a Theurgist, seeing it as too 'soft' for her. Healing is not what she's interested in, she likes fighting! Adrenaline!! Do you remember Morganthe's offer in Zafaris for the YW to join her? Lilith sure does. She was never the savior, even if that was the group she was stuck with for most of her teenage years, hearing THAT put ideas in her head. And she realized huh! That sounds fucking great, actually! Obviously at the time it wasn't an option but, years later? Long after said queen has been disposed of, and Lilith is now free of school and obligation? She thinks maybe SHE'LL go back to Khrysalis, maybe she'll pick up the remnants of Morganthe's army and influence, and maybe. Maybe she'll fill the empty role of queen and finally get to live up to her true potential! So she says! Lilith is highkey deranged and highkey trying to have a villain arc partially because she genuinely WANTS TO, and partially because certain people have led her to believe this is the best path. TLDR she's a punchy-boxer type fighter stuck with life magic and a lot of repression! Is also very gay for Persephone. Aaaand one more to round it out, let's go with Oceania Zenith, resident storm main. So yk it's bad. (sry storm mains.) Ocean was the INITIAL Savior of the Spiral! She had a natural connection and talent to storm magic from a very young age! and this was recognized by the Council of Light rather quickly, who came in to scoop up Ocean as fast as possible to start shaping her into the perfect savior. Well, what good that did! Since Ocean grew up to know so little of how normal kids acted that she was just painfully sheltered. She knew how to duel, how to fight, didn't know what a sleepover was or how to talk to people her own age. And she now has the ego of an Aquilan God and a hero complex to boot. So she became incredibly cocky and full of herself, because I mean, scoff, she's THE Savior. She can do no wrong, perfectly fine to idolize her though<3. She had no friends hah. Except Persephone, because apparently their mean energies were so powerful they attracted each other. (Or because Ocean felt a need to protect the weird little goth girl from the world.) But she's unstoppable really! She swears! Spoilers she is not unstoppable, and her arrogance leads her into a very awful, very super not good time! She's not the Savior anymore.

[xmalereader]

Steven Grant X Male Reader || Final ||

-

|| Masterlist || ONE || TWO ||

-

Authors Note: Here’s the last part! Hope you all enjoyed this little Sugar daddy AU mini series, I’ll be writing more about Steven in the future!

Summary: After the events in Cairo, Khonshu finally frees them (not really) and both Steven and Marc are back to having a normal life. Steven tries to get his job back at the museum but Isn’t succeeding. So, what happens when the owner of the museum takes in interest in Steven and not only gets his job back but spoils the man with riches.

Warnings: Sexual tension, sugar daddy au, mentions of Marc, Anubis is a good god, money, romance, pinning, Steven is falling hard, language, angst, fluff, kissing, slight make out, Steven is soft.

Word count: 4.2k

—

—

Their strange relationship continued for two months now. Both Steven and Y/n had grown used to each other presence, Steven used to be nervous around the other man when they first got started on their arrangement. He would keep his distance and just do what he thinks is considered comfortable. Y/n never pushed Steven and respected him, the man was far too perfect. He followed the boundaries they set and would always ask him what he felt comfortable with, he never tried to pressure him.

Steven is grateful by his actions and with the amount of money he is earning he is able to pay off a whole year of rent. He didn’t have to worry about deadlines anymore and having to pay his bills on time. He was finally relaxed and calm, both he and Marc were doing better than ever until Steven started growing feelings.

He told himself to not fall for the man who was spoiling him and call him different pet names that probably meant nothing but, Steven can’t help but fall for him. He’s never spent so much time with someone who would sit back and listen to him ramble about work or about Egypt. Y/n always stared at him with adoration, smiling as he listened to Steven. He could listen to him talk forever and wouldn’t grow tired of it.

Because of Steven's feelings he’s able to talk through it with Marc who teased him but then later reassured him that he is to keep their relationship professional. Reminding Steven that both he and Y/n never promised an outcome of the relationship growing serious and that broke Steven's heart because Marc was right. The two of them could never have something serious, he was weird and scrawny and not many people liked him, so why would Y/n? The man was rich and could have anyone, so he doubts he will ever have a serious chance.

Steven enjoyed his time with Y/n but everyday they were together and having dinner was enough to hurt Steven. He was suffering from this feeling and refused to continue on and so, he has no choice but to talk to Y/n and letting him know that he would like to end things, stop the money making and spoiling. Y/n works for sure understand and move on like nothing happened.

Steven was nothing to Y/n, he wasn’t someone important and if he were to reveal his feelings to Y/n he would have to tell him about Marc and that’s something he can’t do without freaking out the man. Steven stayed up late making calculations with the money he was given, making sure that it was enough to last him for the next few months out, once he knew he had enough he planned to speak with Y/n today after work and letting them know that he’s ending things.

Steven looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting his flannel. “You sure you want to do this?” He hears Marc ask, Steven avoids his gaze in the mirror as he sighed with a nod. “It’s for the best.” He mumbled in return, turning around to grab his things and leaving his flat. He makes sure to lock up before exiting the apartment building.

“You think it is.” Marc continues as Steven walks down the street and to his bus stop. “Steven, you should allow yourself to be with someone who treats you right and respects you—“

“You know I can’t do that.” Steven mumbled, pulling out his phone and putting it near his ear, pretending to be on phone call while speaking with Marc. “I do like him, a lot, but I can’t force it and he’s a popular man with an image. How would everyone react if they found out that he’s dating someone like me? I’m a not important.”

“Hey.” Marc says sternly. “You are important to me Steven, you saved us. Don’t think any less of yourself.” Marc reminds Steven. Without Steven, Marc would’ve been alone during his childhood. Steven to Marc was his protector, because of him he was able to escape his home. As much as Marc hated leaving he had no choice but to get away from everything and start over.

After their situation with Khonshu and becoming Moon Knight they were finally able to enjoy life again after being released. Marc had allowed Steven to front for longer periods before taking his turn but while they met up with Y/n he allowed Steven to interact with the other man for longer periods of time. Marc knew what Steven was feeling towards Y/n.

Steven had never fallen in love before and this was his first time. His first time being happy with someone and he’s gonna push it away. Steven was afraid of rejection and would rather ends things himself before it got worse, before he felt worse.

“I’m sorry.” Steven whispers, apologizing to Marc about his harsh words. “I—I still think it’s best to end things before it’s too late.” He adds before the bus came to a stop near the Museum, he slips his phone back in his pocket and exits the bus. Clutching his bag close and taking in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. He moves his legs and heads up the steps and inside where everyone was getting ready for the day.

“Alright everyone! You know the drill, keep an eye on everyone and make sure nothing gets damaged, try to get people to buy things in the shop as a memory and have fun!” Y/n claps his hands twice, letting everyone know the daily routine. The man spots Steven near the exit, smiling widely as he approached him. “Morning Darling,” He says in a hurry as steven blushed. “Morning.” He responds back.

“I’m gonna be very busy today,” Y/n sighs out, running his fingers through his hair and pushing it back. He’s been stressed all morning and has a lot of things to clear up. He has to go through deliveries and paperwork, his other company in Paris had just called him in about some other issues that he would have to handle when he travels back over. He didn’t have time to deal with anything else, Anubis was nice enough to give him some time off on his tasks. Letting him know that he would be the one to take care of their gatherings.

Anubis is the good of death but he too knew how much stress his avatar was under and didn’t want to pressure the man. “Oh, right.” Steven says with a nervous smile as Y/n eyes him up and down. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing well, I wanted to speak to you but if your busy it can wait.” Steven reassured the man, waving him off and quickly looking away to distract himself from the deep stare the other was giving him. “Steven—“

“I should go get ready for the tours!” Steven cuts in quickly, pacing away quickly and leaving Y/n confused and worried.

“Was that necessary?”

Steven groans. “Hush you.” He mumbled back to mark, putting his things away and fixing his badge on. He makes sure to check himself once again in the mirror, he wants to be presentable for the next few groups to come in for the museum tours. “You have to tell him.”

“And I will.” Steven shakes his head, he can’t postpone his conversation with y/n for another day but, after coming in and seeing the man stressed and upset made him grow anxious. He didn’t know if their conversation could end up wrong, maybe Y/n will get upset and angry with him. Maybe today wasn’t a good day to bring up this conversation and should give it some more time. He couldn’t stand having Y/n angry at him.

“He won’t.”

“Marc, please.” Steven says harshly, shutting Marc up as the room around him goes silent. He lets out a sigh of relief. He really cares for Marc and appreciates him a lot but right now he doesn’t need him constantly bickering in the back of his head about Y/n and the conversation. Not right now, maybe later. Today he just wants to finish up work and make sure that he gets done quickly.

—

The museum is crowded and full; family’s, couples, children, siblings, anyone technically was visiting the place. Steven had to deal with the tours quickly in order to stay in schedule, he was too busy spreading information and history on the artifacts that he forgets about the conversation he is to have with Y/n. Until he sees him walking around the place, greeting those who came inside and talking to different important people that would come by.

Steven had counted a total of six people who wore their fancy suits paying y/n a visit during the Museum's busy hours. Every time Steven waited for the new group near the entrance he would watch Y/n walk around, his head held up high. He was wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands in his pockets and tie loosened as he spoke to the man in front of him.

Y/n didn’t need to look professional in order to get deals or to gain partnerships, the man was persuasive with his words and not his looks—rather his looks were a bonus to Steven. He caught himself staring at the other far too many times and tried to keep himself concentrated for the next tour. The rest of the day is spent that way until the last hour hits and the announcements are going off, letting everyone know that the museum is to close in less than twenty minutes.

Usually Steven only stays for a short period of time but due to the day being busy his schedule became booked for the day. He didn’t mind staying late, he enjoyed his job and loved sharing the history of Egypt. He wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

“Heading out, Stevie?” Donna teased out, clicking her tongue as Steven rolls his eyes at her. The women still irritated him, no matter how many times he corrects her about his name she still refuses to listen. Steven has grown to ignore her as he hums in response, collecting his things and avoiding her glare.

He heads towards the exit until he sees Marc in his reflection in one of the closed off cases.

“Steven. The conversation.”

Steven groans, dropping his head. He didn’t want to talk anymore he was tired and just wanted to head home. Knowing Marc he will annoy him until he goes through with his plan. “Fine.” He whispers, turning around and heading down the halls, nearing the office as he stands outside, clutching his book bag close to his chest as he rasped his knuckles against the door, knocking twice as he steps back and waits.

He hears a muffled, ‘come in’, causing him to freeze up until Marc nudges him forward, pushing the door handle down and stepping inside. “Hello.” Steven says in a soft voice.

Y/n looks up from his desk. “Oh, steven—hope your day wasn’t too busy.” He chuckled, glancing back down on the documents in front of him and getting things signed off. “No, it was alright, bit hectic but—normal.” Steven shrugs, moving around the room and sitting in the nearest chair. “Are you available to talk?” He finally asks.

Y/n looks up from his work, raising a brow in questioning. “Of course.” He sets his work down and pushed aside. He always had time for Steven. “What do you need.” He placed his head in his hand, a smile on his lips.

Stevens face heats up, licking his lips as he pushes himself to speak. “Our arrangement, I want to end it.” He avoids Y/n stare. The room is silent, the only thing being heard is the sound of the clock ticking that hands from the wall.

“I’m sorry—what?” Y/n chuckles out, not believing what he heard.

“Our arrangement, I wish to end things. Make sure everything goes back to normal.”

Y/n shakes his head. “Why? Did I cross a boundary? Did I do something to make you feel uncomfortable?” His tone is filled with worry, mind racing as he thinks back to everything they’ve done, wondering if he did something wrong.

“No, you didn’t cross any boundary—I just think we should stop and pretend this never happened.”

“Never happened? Steven—fuck.” He hears him stand from his seat, chair pushed back as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Dammit.” He hissed out to himself, glancing over at Steven who kept his head low, not looking at him.

Y/n doesn’t like the expression he’s making, it makes him think that he did something wrong to upset Steven. But, this was their arrangement, they weren’t anything serious and he promised Steven that he would only take care of him and his needs. He lets out a deep sigh and nods. “I understand.” He says.

“Starting tomorrow we will no longer meet up, you’ll go back to being my employee and I your boss.” Y/n rounds the table, standing near Steven, he wants to reach out and pull him close. He wishes to run his fingers through his curly hair, to hug him, to kiss him, to make him his. Instead he holds back. “You can go, goodnight Steven.”

Steven nodded, standing from his seat and rushing out of the room, leaving y/n behind in his office to dread the loneliness while the Brit rushed home.

“Fucking hate this.” Y/n whispers to himself, leaning back in his desk as he hears Anubis walk around the office, staff in hand as he tilts his head, ears twitching. “You are in pain.”

“No I’m not.” Y/n bites back.

“Hathor knew much more about this feeling I can smell on you.” Anubis says. “She called it love.”

“I’m not in love.”

“Yet, you continue to lie to yourself.”

Y/n shakes his head, he can’t be in love. No, he wasn’t capable of love. He’s been in many relationships and they all ended badly, he was always told that he was a cruel man who never had time for them or that he was too greedy which wasn’t true. He was too busy trying to find ways in getting rid of his money that all he can think about are charities or starting partnerships with small companies who deserved to grow and had potential. Yet, somehow, he was able to find the time for Steven.

The man was like a moth to a flame, Steven was a shy man who closed himself off from others. His innocence is what caught his attention, he wanted to protect the man, he wanted to spoil Steven. He wanted to see that bright smile everyday and to hear him ramble on about Egypt and about the smallest things ever and could spend hours listening to him.

“Anpu, I think your right.” He finally says, confessing as he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he hears the god of death huff out a proud chuckle, knowing that he’s won.

“Well, what will you do?” Anubis asks, leaning down to him as he waits for a response, the smaller man glaring up at him before answering. “I suppose I should go and talk to him.”

“Then you should go and speak to him.” Anubis announces as Y/n walks around his office, cleaning his mess and fixing himself up while the god watched him. “We should one day, visit Hathor. Her and her Avatar would like to meet you. You’re full of love and compassion along with guidance and determination—this is why I chose you as my avatar.” Anubis praised.

Y/n blushed as he fixed his hair in the mirror, “who knew that the god of death could speak so highly of others.” He turns around to face the god, giving him a smile. “I’ll make up tonight for the lack of work.”

“Don’t worry, we will continue our gatherings another day. Right now, go and retrieve your love.”

With that, Y/n runs out of the office, running down the halls and outside where he finds his car. He remembers visiting Stevens flat once, Steven was a bit insurance about the mess and the way he loved but y/n didn’t mind, his place felt like home. He remembers the way their and drives down the dark empty roads, reaching Stevens apartment building and parks near it. He is quick to get out and run towards the doors.

He’s lucky to have a young lady let him in once he tells her that he’s visiting a friend, thanking her and taking the elevator up the fifth floor. He’s tapping his foot anxiously, checking to see which floor he’s on and checking himself again on his phone, wanting to look presentable. Once the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, he steps into the empty hallway, checking every door number as he whispers the numbers to himself until he reaches the one Steven is living in.

He stands in front of the door. He doesn’t know if the man is awake or if he went to bed after leaving. He was hesitant, what if steven rejected his feelings and didn’t want him around or didn’t want to see him again?

“Knock or I’ll do it for you.” Y/n is startled by Anubis’ voice over his shoulder. “You scared the hell out of me.” He whispers, glaring at the god who glared back at him. “Knock or I knock.” He warns him again, hitting the end of his staff on the floor. “Okay, calm down!” Y/n is quick to say as he knocks.

“There, happy?” He tells the god who huffs a nod until the sound of a chain and lock being unlocked is heard. He froze in place, turning to face the door as it’s pulled open to reveal Steven wearing sweats, a confused look on his face. “Y/n, what are you doing here?”

Y/n swallows and steps forward. “It’s my turn to talk.” Steven opens and closes his mouth, confused and shocked. “Of—of course.” Steven doesn’t know what else to say and allows Y/n inside his flat.

Y/n looks around the room, the flat is still the same. Nothing looks moved and his desk is stacked with books along with notebooks and other strange writings. “Why are you here, again?” Steven asks, wanting to get this done quickly.

“I wanted to talk about today. About what you told me.” Y/n steps forward, standing near Steven. “I know you want to end our arrangement and I’ll accept it but listen to what I have to say first, you don’t have to say anything back if you don’t want too but listen.” His voice is firm, he wants Steven to look at him and want to know how he feels. Either he gets rejected or not he wants to hear it.

“I don’t want things to end.”

“What—?” Y/n holds his hand up, Silencing Steven.

“The reason why I don’t want things to end is because—because I’ve taken notice of the way you are. The things you do and say make me feel something for you. Not the feeling of the arrangement we had—but the way you make me feel like I want to be near you all the time. I want to see you smile and laugh at the stupid things I say or when you ramble about Egypt and how passionate you can be. I want to see that side of you everyday, not as someone who spoils you and takes care of you, but as someone you can talk to whenever and not be ashamed to be around with in public.” He explains, stepping forward and reaching out to place his index finger underneath his chin and tilting his head back.

“I want to love and cherish you.” He whispers. Steven shakes his head. “You can’t, I’m strange and weird.” Y/n eyes darken, using his free hand to place against Stevens hip. “Not to me you aren’t, your worth more to me. Hell, if I had to choose between buying an artifact from Egypt or you, I’d spend every penny In order to have you.” He pushes Steven back against the door, caging him in as the either gasps in surprise.

“R—really?” Steven asks, surprised and speechless. Y/n slowly smiles. “Really.” He whispers again, looking into his warm brown eyes. His hand pressed against his neck as his thumb stroked his cheek. He was so close. He had to have been aware of just how little space there was between the two of them. A breath. Not even.

“Y/n.” Steven whined as his lips brushed his once more.

“If you keep saying my name like that, you are going to drive me absolutely insane.” Y/n pressed his forehead to Stevens, noses brushing, thumb swiping across his bottom lip. He feels him shudder as his thigh flexed between his legs. “Can I kiss you?” Y/n whispers to Steven.

Steven breaths out nervously. “Yes.”

His mouth was on Stevens before he could even finish his breath. His hand traveled down his throat, settling around it with a loose grip. He gasped, and Y/n took total control of the kiss, his hand tightening just enough to give a tease. Like a taste of a punishment he wasn’t supposed to know he wanted to give him. Steven didn’t know where to put his hands, he didn’t know if he should place them on his shoulders or to keep them in place as the kiss grew intense.

Steven breaks away, their breaths hot against each others skin as he pants softly, licking his lips and grinning down at Steven. Leaning close as he nosed Stevens neck, his lips grazing against the soft skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” Y/n breaths out, apologizing for overstepping.

“It’s alright,” Steven leans his forehead on his shoulder, nuzzling his face into it. “I liked it.” It was actually his first time kissing a man and he is happy to know that y/n is his first and wouldn’t trade that first kiss with anyone else. Y/n chuckles against him. “I’m glad you did, if you ever want another feel free to do so.” He flirts out, making Steven laugh as the two pulled away.

Y/n sighs. “We can take it slow, give yourself some time to adjust.” He reassured Steven. He didn’t want the man to feel pressured or frightened if he felt things going too fast. Steven appreciates it, smiling softly in return. “I would like to take our time, getting used to this and perhaps in the future we can do—“ his face grows red, embarrassed to say anything else.

“Will take our time.” Y/n smirks, pulling away from Steven as he walks towards the coach, removing his coat and tossing it to the side. He began to loosen his tie which causes Steven to grows flustered. “What are you doing?”

“What? It’s late out and I’m to tired to drive back home. So, why don’t we sleep together?” Steven didn’t know what to say about that. Y/n wanted to sleep in his bed, he wanted to be next to him. Steven has never shared his bed with anyone else, he used to struggle with sleeping but after resolving the issue and figuring out about Marc. His sleeping schedule was able to change and he improved. He no longer had to keep himself chained up or had to add sand into the ring. No, he was fine.

“Hope you don’t mind me moving.” Steven said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he approached his bed, pushing the covers back. He watched Y/n approach the bed as well and sit on the other side of the bed. Steven is used to sleeping in the middle but he can try to sleep in one side tonight.

“I usually sleep in the middle but I can take the left side tonight.” Steven blurts out as he gets in bed.

Y/n follows in after him. He gets under the covers and smiles, reaching out to wrap an arm around Stevens waist and pulling him towards the middle of the bed where he keeps his arm over his abdomen, nuzzling his face into Stevens neck and placing a soft kiss upon it. “We can always share.” He says against his ear, breath hot. Steven tries to keep himself relaxed as he shifts in place, adjusting to their position and getting comfortable. Once he’s comfortable he finally relaxes and hums to himself in realization, finding out that he really liked having someone close and cuddling him.

Steven is able to fall sleep in less than few minutes, not having to struggle with sleeping again.

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena let out an undignified squeak as she grabbed hold of the bookshelf beside her in an effort to not land on her face.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Lena turned, wiggling her foot back into her heels properly, before freezing, eyes widening at the caped figure now scrambling to her feet.

An array of books and magazines were spread out on the floor, presumably the culprit of her latest near death experience. It was as though National City’s newly revealed superhero had been sitting in between the bookshelves on the library floor… studying?

Lena clutched the cheesy romance novel she had been too busy reading to her chest as Supergirl looked at her in concern.

“Miss?”

Lena’s brain finally restarted and she cleared her throat, straightening her blazer. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Supergirl was wringing the edge of her cape in her fingers, looking far too nervous for someone who was suspected to be the strongest being on Earth by several sapphic blogs that Lena most definitely did not read.

“I’m fine.” She reached out to put a hand on Supergirl’s forearm in an impulse comfort gesture. “I promise.”

Supergirl seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension seeping from her shoulders. She held out a hand. “I’m Kara.”

Any tension that had left her immediately returned tenfold, eyes widening in panic as she froze.

Lena bit back a smile and took Kara’s hand, shaking it despite Kara’s lack of movement. “Lena. And don’t worry - your secret’s safe with me.”

Kara deflated, running a hand through her hair. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Lena laughed and patted Kara’s bicep (definitely the strongest being on Earth). “Maybe you should stop saying names now.”

Kara grimaced. “Oops.” She looked like she was about to say something else but stopped and looked at Lena again. “Wait… are you Lena Luthor?”

Lena straightened up, careful mask falling into place to try to hide the way her heart sped up and her throat constricted. “Yes.”

But before she could launch into her speech about how she was different from the rest of her family and only wanted to help, Kara lit up, crouching down to shuffle through her piles of literature until she came up with an issue of a science magazine from a few years ago.

“I just read your article about sustainable building and how we can introduce cost-effective eco-friendly measures to construction to reduce the damage done to the environment and promote a symbiotic relationship with nature.”

Lena blinked.

Kara almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just thought it was really interesting. You’re probably tired of people asking you about your work.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “No I… I don’t mind.”

Kara smiled and Lena found her heart racing for an entirely different reason. She redirected her attention to the books scattered on the floor.

“So what’s National City’s resident superhero doing studying civil engineering, first aid and… veterinary science on the floor of the library?”

Kara blushed and knelt down to start scooping up all her things. “Sorry - I know I should have been at a desk I just got carried away.”

The pile of books was up to Kara’s eyebrows when she stood up and Lena laughed, taking the top third of them from her. “And I shouldn’t have been reading and walking. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Supergirl shrugged, toeing at the worn carpet with her red boots. “I’m new at the whole superhero thing. I don’t know where to freeze breath a building to hold it up or how to save someone who’s got water in their lungs from almost drowning. The other day I rescued a snake from a tree and tried to wrap it up in my cape to keep it warm and the owner told me ‘thanks, but reptiles are cold-blooded so they don’t warm up like that.’” She pouted at Lena. “The owner was a ten year old.”

Lena bit back a smile. “So you’re trying to learn how to be a better superhero?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

Lena considered her for a moment. “You know, I happen to have degrees in a few different kinds of engineering. And I made everyone at L-corp, including myself, take a first aid course when I took over.”

Kara looked as though she was trying to contain her hopeful expression. It wasn’t working very well, although that probably wasn’t surprising since her motto was ‘hope, help, and compassion for all.’

Kara bounced on her toes excitedly. “Would you help?”

Lena grinned and gestured to the left with her head. “Come on, I know which desk is the best in the library.”

———

It became somewhat of a routine after that. Every Saturday, Lena would go to the library as normal, pick out a new cheesy romance novel for the week and some kind of thick science book to hide it underneath, and then meet Supergirl in the back corner of the library, at the desk hidden behind the spare computers from the 90s where no one would find them.

Kara would normally already be there, pouring over texts and making notes in coloured pens and highlighters. Lena had bought her a rainbow of folders and dividers for each of the aspects of superheroing she was trying to improve in, and they had spent one very unproductive but fun day labelling and decorating them. They were now covered in random doodles, squiggly multicoloured patterns, and stickers that Kara had found in a rotating rack by the front desk, immediately claiming were essential for her learning.

During the week, Lena would keep an eye on any news of Supergirl, getting some strange looks from Jess when she walked into her office to see Lena cheering as Kara did something they’d worked on together. At the weekend she would listen to Kara excitedly retell those same events until the librarian came over to shush them. She seemed to be the only person in National city that wasn’t completely charmed by Supergirl, and it always led to half an hour of Kara pouting and asking Lena why the librarian didn’t like her.

It was a few weeks before Lena got there first. She frowned, checking the surrounding isles of books for any caped figures but they were all empty as usual.

She sat at their desk and opened up the book she had randomly grabbed off a shelf, putting her latest romance novel inside it to covertly read. It was called ‘Lost and Found: A Love Story’, the back of it claiming it was about a woman who ‘drops her scarf at a train station but ends up finding something much more meaningful in the woman she bumps into at the lost and found.’ It was exactly as awful as it sounded.

Kara bounded up to the table about 20 minutes later, a coffee cup in each hand and a satchel slung over her shoulder that made her cape bunch up awkwardly. She beamed at Lena and set a coffee down in front of her.

“Guess what I just did.”

Lena slammed the books shut inside each other, scrambling to put her arms over them and rest her chin in her hand casually. “What?”

Kara either didn’t notice or didn’t care, rounding the desk and putting her bag down on it with a grin. “I laservisioned the supports of a broken crane back together using some metal from a billboard and now it’s totally fine for use again.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to the crane in the first place?”

Kara’s cheeks heated and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she mumbled, “I may have flown into it a little bit.”

She scowled at Lena as Lena started laughing but it was undermined by the way her lips tugged up.

“Oh!” Kara lit up and started rifling through her bag. “I brought you this.”

She held out a book with a bright smile. Lena’s eyes widened as she looked down at the cover of what was very clearly another cheesy romance.

“It’s my favourite love story. It’s a bit like the one you’re reading at the moment but better, in my opinion. I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Lena scoffed. “I wasn’t reading a romance. I was reading…” she glanced over to check what book she had picked up, internally filling with regret as she read the title, but she had already committed to the facade. “The rhyming dictionary.”

Kara was very clearly trying not to laugh. “Ok. Well I’ll just leave this one here. And in case you didn’t know,” she leaned closer to Lena’s ear as she climbed into her seat, and whispered, “I have x-ray vision.”

Lena blushed, refusing to look at Kara’s smug grin. She cleared her throat and moved her books off to the side, along with the one Kara had put down, as casually as possible, and attempted to change the subject.

“So you remembered about weight distribution in support structures?”

Kara paused in taking folders and notes out her bag to turn to Lena excitedly, rambling on about her save, gesturing wildly with her hands.

Lena picked up her coffee as she listened with a soft smile, absentmindedly taking a sip.

She frowned down at the cup. “Is this my usual?”

Kara paused in her rambling. “Yeah. Does it not taste right?”

Lena shook her head, staring back down at her perfect coffee, cheeks heating at the heart drawn in latte art that Kara probably didn’t even have anything to do with. “No I just… I didn’t know you knew my order.”

Kara grinned, raising an eyebrow (Lena should never have taught her how to do that). “Perhaps you’re not as elusive as you think, Lena Luthor.”

———

Lena arrived at the library one Saturday to find Supergirl staring at the front doors like she might set light to them any moment.

“What’s wrong Supergirl? Lose a fight with a door handle?”

Kara turned to her with a pout, pointing at a sign hanging on the other side of the glass. It read ‘Library closed until 23rd due to water damage. Apologies for the inconvenience.’

Lena sighed.

“Where am I going to get my books for this week, Lena? I’m never going to understand civil engineering without them.”

Lena bit the inside of her cheek, the rational part of her brain at war with the part that was helpless to the superhero’s pout. It had to be one of her superpowers because Lena would never admit she was actually soft.

She tore her gaze away, trying to seem casual. “I actually have some engineering textbooks at my apartment. I guess you could borrow them if you wanted.”

Lena squeaked as Supergirl crushed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Lena laughed, trying to turn it inconspicuously into a cough when a passerby gave a slightly shocked and confused look at the sight of a Luthor and a Super laughing on the library steps. Kara dropped her back to her feet, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I got excited.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. She turned to go but as she went to gesture for Kara to follow, her hand caught against Kara’s. Her brain misfired and decided in the split second where her index finger hooked onto Kara’s pinkie that the best course of action was to commit to it and simply hold hands. In an attempt to make it seem less affectionate and more practical, she walked off quickly, dragging Kara along in the direction of her apartment.

She could feel Kara’s smile like rays of sun behind her. At least her hair was down to cover up the heat that was creeping up the back of her neck.

Her apartment was only a few minutes from the library. She had to slap Kara’s hand away from the elevator buttons before she pressed them all, marveling at how many floors there were.

“So this is where you live?” Kara looked around the hallway, panicking when she snapped a leaf off of a decorative plant, while Lena unlocked the penthouse door.

Lena pretended not to see her discreetly dropping the leaf into the plant pot but raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Supergirl. I just decided we should come and stare at this random person’s door.”

Kara ignored her, walking past into her apartment and looking down at the city below through the large floor to ceiling windows. “Nice view. I should take you flying sometime - it’s even better from up in the clouds, especially at night.”

Lena closed the front door, trying not to think about romantic flights and being cradled in strong arms. “I’ll go get the textbooks.”

She moved towards her home office, Kara trailing behind in interest. The engineering textbooks were over in the left corner and she scanned the alphabetised section for the ones she wanted.

Kara ran her fingers over the spines of books until Lena was done. She smirked at Lena, letting her hand trail teasingly down the bookshelf before she left. Lena blushed as she realised why. Kara had found her fiction section, over half the books in which were very clearly a certain genre.

Lena groaned and followed her out.

They spent the entire afternoon on the floor around Lena’s coffee table, going through the textbooks, laughing over Kara’s constant puns, and eating the seemingly endless supply of snacks Kara produced from her bag. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that Lena realised how long they’d spent simply telling jokes and stories.

It was alarmingly easy to just be around Kara. Strangely, Lena didn’t think she minded.

———

Lena frowned as someone knocked on her door. It was a Saturday morning and she was just about to leave to meet Supergirl at the library.

She only grew more confused as she opened the door to see a fluffy white cloud panting happily at her and squirming in her direction. A head poked out from behind it, looking just as happy.

“Lena, hi! Sorry to just turn up but the mean librarian lady threw me out because apparently you aren’t allowed to play fetch in the library.”

Lena stared at the woman currently holding a large puppy in front of her, familiar blonde curls pinned back and glasses slipping down her nose. “…Kara?”

Kara blinked at her for a moment before she seemed to realise. “Oh! Right. Sorry - this is what I look like normally. When I’m not being Supergirl I mean. Alex said I wasn’t allowed to wear the suit all the time because it had to be washed.”

Lena nodded slowly, trying to reconcile the image of this Kara with Supergirl and to not think too hard about the implications of Kara being comfortable enough around her to show her her civilian identity. “Right. Why do you have a dog?”

Kara lit up. “I saved an animal shelter from a fire and they let me adopt this guy. Isn’t he adorable?”

Lena looked at the matching faces of excitement. “Very cute. But why is he here?”

Kara shrugged. “Well I couldn’t leave him after I’d just adopted him so I thought he could join us for our study session?”

Lena crossed her arms and Kara pouted. It was somewhat undermined by the puppy licking her face and making her giggle but Lena was still helpless to resist.

“Ok but he better not mess up any of my stuff.”

“Yes!” Kara grinned, wiggling the puppy excitedly, his ears flopping about.

Kara kissed her cheek on her way into the apartment and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The puppy licked her in an attempt to join in but even that didn’t stop the way her heart raced.

They settled on the couch, facing each other as Lena quizzed Kara with flashcards. The puppy alternated between curling up in Kara’s lap and zooming around Lena’s living room, falling over his own paws.

“Ok, last one. How do you treat a sprain?”

“Ice it with my freezebreath, wrap it so it’s compressed but not cutting off circulation, keep it elevated.”

Lena grinned proudly. “That’s it! Done.”

Kara threw her hands in the air in delight, squealing as she propelled herself forwards to tackle Lena to the couch. She pulled back just as quickly, pushing up to brace herself over Lena.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

All the breath had deserted Lena’s lungs and she stared up at Kara. A light flush rose on Kara’s cheeks, pale pink against the deep blue of her eyes, bringing out the freckles that dusted her skin.

The flashcards slipped from Lena’s grasp as she surged up to meet Kara’s lips. Kara’s arms almost buckled but she caught herself. And then she was kissing back.

Lena’s hands slid up Kara’s back, practically pulling Kara down on top of her.

They were both breathing hard when they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads rested together.

Kara was smiling softly down at her when she finally opened her eyes. She had shifted to hold herself up on one hand and one elbow, her free hand gently stroking back Lena’s hair.

She looked like she was about to say something when she did a double take over the armrest of the couch behind Lena and her soft look turned into a wince. “What was it you said about the puppy not messing up any of your stuff?”

[spice-chan]

Cure Me

King!singledad! Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

Prince Matsuki makes an interesting friend. he could have never foretold who she is to his father...

TW: curses, sickness

Thank you so much to @stargazingaloneatnight for sending this lovely request ! I totally got carried away though, so it’s going to have a second part. 

Thanks a lot to @patt-writes-stuff and @reddriot for being amazing beta readers !!

Wordcount: 4.4 K

..........................................

At the ripe age of 18, you were married off to the woodcutter in your village. 

You weren’t enthusiastic about it, but you didn’t dissent. After all, in a small village, all the people of close age were expected to marry eventually. It was either him, the farmer or the butcher. A prince isn’t going to come and sweep you off your feet.

You moved to the isolated cabin near the woods where your husband resided, and you lived there with him for a year. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as harmony, but it was peaceful enough for you to be content. He respected you and you respected him, but you yearned for something more.You yearned for love, for the overwhelming feeling that would envelope you whole, that would elicit shivers from your spine, and down to your very toes. 

But you had to get those foolish fantasies out of your head; after all, your husband was now all you had. Until you didn’t have him anymore. 

His body was found, squashed underneath a large tree that fell the wrong way. 

Guilt and loss reigned in your mind and heart. You wondered, should you have appreciated him more ? Should you have cherished the little moments instead of wishing for something better? 

It was a lonely existence for a while after that, until a red eyed, spikey haired little boy ventured to your isolated abode. 

………

Loneliness was a disease that feasted on your open wounds until they were gaping holes, bleeding and gushing, but you were unable to stitch them back together. Who wants to be lonely, truly? So all Bakugo did was cover the open wounds with his hand, growling protectively as he shielded himself. And he couldn’t stitch together the hole in his chest, even when his hand was stained red as evidence of his pain. 

He thought he loved her. He convinced himself he loved her. The only woman and person who seemingly managed to stand him and understand him. He tried so hard to be good to her. Tried to act better when he saw the gleam of judgement in her eyes. Only to wake up one day with a letter telling him “don’t look for me” and “I’ll be somewhere better. Away from you and that spawn. Good luck with him, though you’ll probably have enough soon and throw him somewhere far, the sound of his cries is annoying.” 

Him. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. 

It’s like he was a disposable piece of trash to her. Katsuki’s teeth gnashed whenever he remembered the way she spoke of her own son, his son. 

“DAD!” screamed a little boy, the carbon copy of his dad, running to his father's lap where he ducked down and hid between them. 

Bakugo growled playfully, bending his back to look at the excitable little boy, who held his finger to his lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing, squirt?” 

“I’m hiding from Shitty Maid.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows at the foul language that came out of his son’s mouth, but his response never made the light of day as a flustered and heaving maid entered the dining chamber, her eyes frantically searching. 

“My king, I’m so sorry ! Have you seen Prince Matsuki come here ?” she questioned breathlessly, the prince having evidently tired her out. 

Bakugo clicked his teeth rather impertinently. “No, you shitty maid, I didn’t see him come here,” he replied and resumed eating, seemingly unperturbed by his son being ‘missing’. 

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’ll resume my search for him. Sorry to have disturbed you!” she exclaimed before picking her gown and scrambling out. 

Bakugo stared beneath his chair pointedly, his carbon copy only giving doe eyes as a reply. 

“Why are you hiding anyway?!”

Matsuki crawled out from underneath the chair and stood up, dusting his knees. 

“She wants to teach me eti-etiquette or whatever,” Matsuki grumbled. “I’m going out to play with my friends.” 

Etiquette? How useless. Is that what they are teaching his son? 

Bakugo clapped his back, glad to see his son not be a pushover. “Don’t be late, squirt.”

“Ok, dad!” Matsuki jumped and enveloped Katsuki’s muscular frame in a hug with his tiny arms, warming Katsuki’s heart as he ruffled his son’s spiky hair. 

……..

Matsuki couldn’t find his friends. 

He ventured into the woods in search of them, sporting a scowl everyone should be familiar with. His tiny, handsome face scrunched slightly as he looked around the place curiously. His feet padded on, scrunching on crispy fallen leaves in their wake. 

He walked for a while, marking trees as he went along to ensure he didn’t get lost, but eventually, a sugary sweet scent had his tiny legs move faster on their own accord in search of it. The closer he seemingly got, the more powerfully the mouth watering scent assaulted his nose. It smelled cozy on this chilly day, like a warm cup of milk by a warm fire as snow fell outside.

He reached a clearing. The thick, intimidating trees that loomed over him shrunk away until there was none left. 

No trees, but he found a small cabin with a window cracked open. 

He boldly marched up to it, his mouth set in a straight, determined line. A fisted palm knocked once, twice, and thrice on the worn out wood, to ensure that it was heard. 

His nervousness set in when the handle turned and a lady emerged at the threshold. He steeled himself. His daddy told him that if he wanted something, he should work to get it. 

You smiled at him warmly when you spotted him: a young, unfamiliar boy. He looked out of his element, but his strange red eyes stared at you despite how he seemed to be unused to such situations. His eyes reflected the embers of a brave soul. 

“There was a nice smell coming from here,” he admitted, his tiny face scrunching into a scowl that seemed more adorable than anything.

“Well, yes, I baked cookies,” you responded mildly, your voice never too high but quite clear. The boy’s eyes widened, his red hues glistening in child-like excitement.

“Cookies?!”  He jumped, and clutched your gown. 

“Can I have some ?” Puppy dog eyes stared up at you, pleading and cute. You haven’t encountered a child in a long time. You stopped going to the village as often, and eventually, they stopped visiting too. Your mother died after she contracted something, her old body unable to fight it off, and your dad ran off somewhere to ‘adventure’. 

“Sure.” You moved from the threshold. “Come in.” You gestured with your head to your small cottage, a humble place, but a reminder of your lonesome existence. 

He brightened up considerably, his mouth twisting into a sweet smile. He would become such a handsome young man once he grew up. It made you wonder how beautiful his parents must be. 

You pulled a chair for him at the table, and went to put some cookies on a plate for him. 

“YUM. That’s so delicious!” He spoke between mouthfuls, some tiny crumbs flying out of his mouth in his excitement. 

“Thank you, but be careful. You might choke if you speak while chewing sweetie,” you chided him lightly. Matsuki didn’t recognize this tone, it sounded equal parts stern and caring. He nodded and continued munching down. 

“Would you like to drink something? I have some orange juice, and uh, water. I could make tea, but I don’t think kids your age fancy that you rambled, suddenly excited about having someone keep you company for the first time in a while. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but upon remembering your words, he opted to chew for a few more seconds then swallowing his cookies before bellowing out,“Yes! Orange juice.” 

How adorable. 

You poured two glasses of orange juice and joined your little companion, munching on some cookies of your own. Before long, he finished all of them and leaned back on the chair, mouth letting out a sigh and hand patting his stomach as a show of overindulgence. 

“Good?” 

“Yup! You’re a very nice lady. Way nicer than my dummy maid,” he grumbled, you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or concerned, but one thing did grab your attention. 

“Maid ?” 

He nodded, slightly confused at your question. 

“Don’t you have one ?” You quirked an eyebrow and looked around your tiny cottage. Did it look like you have one? 

Oh God, you hoped this boy wasn’t mistaking his mother for a maid. With that in mind, you asked him, however, his face fell in sadness and the fire in his eyes dulled a little. 

“I don’t have a mother. The maids always talk about how sorry they are for me. I hate it. None of them even care about me,” he spoke in a quiet voice, tearing at your heart with his down turned face. 

“But at least I have my daddy,” he spoke up, brightening a little. You smiled at that, reaching towards him and ruffling his fluffy yet spikey blond hair. 

“That’s good. Keep cherishing your father, at least the two of you have each other.” You wiped some crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin, speaking to the boy in a lonesome voice; unintentionally mothering him. 

He smiled and nodded;unintentionally accepting. 

The boy was either mistaking some people in his household for maids, or he was some rich merchant’s son. On that note—

“Did you tell anyone you’re coming here? They might be worried about you,” you asked cautiously, but then your eyes widened as a new wave of worry hit you. 

“Oh my God, what if you got lost? Do you know your way back?” 

You sighed in relief when he nodded, flashing you a smile with his teeth on display, one of them missing from the front, making it all the more endearing. You narrowed your eyes at him, prompting him to elaborate. 

“I always come to play around here with my friends. It’s really close to home!” You oo’d. However, it was now his turn to panic. “Oh no, I forgot all about them !” He looked outside, seeing the sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky. 

“I think I can still catch them,” he declared determinedly, and hopped off his seat. His tiny legs carried him to the door, his pale hand grasping the worn down doorknob, but before twisting it, he turned to you, his smile of youth gracing his face again. 

“See you later, nice lad !”

.……..……

“No way! You wanted to be a pirate? But they’re so nasty!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose at you in disgust. You shrugged, shoulders slumped. 

“I thought it’d be a fun time. I found it in a book and dreamed that one day, I too can embark on an adventure and find hidden treasures,”you explained with a dreamy, yet nostalgic look in your eyes, akin to one looking back fondly at a long gone memory. It’s been nearly a year since you met the mystery child. You’ve been...noticeably happier. 

His cherry red orbs made your day, along with an innocence that was very hard to maintain in these tough times, although that's probably because his toughness differs from yours. 

He pouted, running a hand through his tamed locks. “Well, why can’t you?” 

He stared up at you expectantly, oblivious to what he was expecting. His red orbs burwith ith the flame of innocenand and didnuldn’t dare blow it out. 

“I don’t know.” 

Even for his young age, he was perceptive. Bbut before he could question your downtrodden face, you stood up, coughing loudly. It went on for a few seconds, and Matsuki watched worriedly as you cupped your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking from the force. 

After you stopped, you breathed for a few seconds, face flushed and stamina depleted. But again, before he could question anything, you stood up, stretching. The sun hit your face, which looked noticeably paler, but you forced a smile anyway, and held your hand out for Matsuki to grab and follow suit. 

“Let’s go inside, you wanted me to redo your hair, right ?” He grabbed your hand with renewed vigor, hopping off the wood and trekking with you back inside the cottage. 

He said his maid had to slick his hair back because they had guests over and he ‘had to look more presentable’, which you internally scoffed at. His hair was amazing as it was. 

You’d never seen a texture so amazing. It was soft as silk, but it appeared spikey. Like a porcupine or something, looked thorny but had a soft side? 

You brought some water and wet his hair, before drying it with a towel. You could already see some results. You brought a hairbrush and began to hum softly while brushing his semi dry blond locks. 

You towelled it once again, before patting him across the back. Your head felt light, and a light pain began to creep in. You probably need some water. 

“THANK YOU! It was so ugly before.” He pranced about, happy that his hair no longer looked like some ‘sappy extra’. You wonder where the child got those interesting phrases. You stood up to get a glass of water, but the moment you stood up, the world swirled, spinned, and blurred. And then it all faded to black. 

You hit the floor with a loud thump, and Matsuki sprung to his feet and frantically ran to your side. 

His small hands grabbed your arm and shook you, his face growing warm and throat getting clogged up, before tears burst forth. They dampened your sleeves, continuously flowing like a waterfall, but you still remained almost lifeless on the floor. Matsuki was young, helpless, and alone. 

And he did what any young, helpless and crying child would do. 

He ran to the person he loves —his father. 

……………

Bakugou heard the sound of Matsuki running before h, felt the wind, tornado like, as the doors of his room were pushed open in a manner so excitable he’d consider it rather insolent had it not been his own son. 

 His reprimands were stuck in his throat when he saw the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of his shis heart aching at the sight. 

“What’s wongh” he asked softly, the tone rather unusual coming from him. Then again, his son coming to him crying was something very rare.oo., Matsuki took after his  and and he was a very brave and strong boy. Something that Bakugou lamented about, at times. Being his carbon copy wasn’t that much of a blessing when it came to the matters of the heart. 

Matsuki found his dad sitting at his desk, he ran to him and clung to his legs, crying uncontrollably. 

It took Bakugou a second to overcome his awkwardness and emotional constipation. He scooped his son up and sat him on his lap, wiping his tears away. 

“Hey squirt, calm down and tell me what’s wrong. If it’s someone that upset you, God help them-” 

Matsuki tried to halt his hiccups, failing for a few seconds while he hugged his dad, he patted his back comfortingly. 

“Dad, my friend…” he began, but his eyes watered as a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst. 

“What happened to your friend, Matsuki?” 

Matsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes before continuing. 

“So, she’d been sick for a few weeks, but today when I visited her, she fell and wouldn’t wake up,” Matsuk explainedd, clutching into Bakugou tightly. 

Bakugou hummed, nodding solemnly. 

“Can you take me where your friend is?” 

Matsuki nodded, but Katsuki was dubious about the nature of this pursuit. His distrustful nature was shining through.If this ‘friend’ was outside the protective barrier, then Katsuki didn’t know what to really expect. So before leaving his room, he donned his protective amber around his neck, a magical jewel chosen by his dragon when he was younger. All shifters choose an enchanted jewel to guard their existence and warn them of dangers. He made sure to pick up his son’s, looping the necklace around his neck, the jewel dangling and shining. 

He needed to give his son a talk about this. 

…………

They walked in the forest for a while before reaching a small, worn out looking cottage. Bakugou arched a blond eyebrow, more curious than ever. He’d think it was a ploy with more sinister intentions, luring both prince and king but… he’d never seen his son more shook up over someone, they must mean a lot to him. He couldn’t bear to delay this. 

They reached the door, the wood creaking as Bakugo opened it. His ruby eyes started searching for you, and when they caught your figure on the floor, they began gleaming. 

He felt the breath knocked out of him when he saw you, asleep (he hoped) like an angel with your hair looking wild but still adding to your charm like a halo. You looked so soft, so precious, and it felt like his life only began this moment when he caught sight of you. 

His heartbeat was so strong, he could feel it in his very eyes, who were overwhelmed with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, ones he didn’t spare a second glance at, extras, unworthy of his time. But for some reason, the beauty of you rooted him in his spot and halted all rational thoughts. He was only broken out of his reverie when Matsuki shook him. He felt a rush of love, devotion, and ease like he’d never felt before. It all made sense, the sense of loneliness, of being lost when his path is clear in front of him. Of finding every potential romantic partner lukewarm at best. 

“Dad. Can you help her ? I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

And in that moment, it dawned on him. 

Katsuki found his soulmate, but there’s a chance he might have already lost her. 

He ran to you checking your vitals, and thankfully, everything seemed fine. He put his forehead against yours, cursing when he felt a scalding fever. 

“What happened ?” He picked one of the numerous questions buzzing in his head. 

“Well, she did my hair like I’d asked her, but the moment she stood up, she fell down! I tried waking her up, but she wouldn’t. She’d been coughing a lot the past few weeks too and looking tired,” Matsuki explained clearly, now comforted by having his father share the weight with him. 

Katsuki looked around at the rather shabby place. Fit for a commoner. Not you. 

He was baffled at having a mate. Only the most legendary, wise and favoured dragons did, the dragons that made it to history scriptures. Things no one considered him to be. Things he was succumbing to not being. Things she convinced him he wasn’t. Sure, he could fight deadly wars, bring nations down to their knees, but violence did not warrant a soulmate. 

He scoop you up, closer to his chest. Heyouyou tightly, heart physically hurting at the thought of you being in pain. He just met you, what’s with him ? 

He stood up, nudging his son to leave. 

What a coincidence. An insane, crazy coincidence. 

His son, his only blessing in this shrouded world, was what led him to the one thing nobody thought he’d have. 

“Tell me more on the way.

Matsuki nodded. 

……………

Bakugou laid you on his bed, surrounding you with the softest materials one could ever touch. He pulled a chair besides you, lounging on it as he waited for a healer to arrive. 

You remained unconscious, but it seems like your temperature increased even more. He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t register that Matsuki walked inside the room until he was addressing him. 

“Is she going to be alright ?” Bakugou didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, then again, he didn’t have the heart to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know.” Somehow saying it out loud hurts even more. 

A knock on the door broke the gloominess. 

“Come in.” 

Hope walked in, in the shape of a short, old lady with medical equipment. 

Recovery Girl inspected you, from temperature to heartbeat. And when done, she sighed. 

“Everything boils down to it being a simple fever, but in that case, she wouldn’t be unconscious,” she explained ambiguously. She took one of your hands, and andr fingertips were icy cold. 

She hummed contemplatively. She brought out a healing crystal, squeezing it in one fist, while she held your hand in the other. The idea was to transfer the healing energy from the crystal to you, only possible through a healing mage. 

However, when nothing seemed to happen, Recovery Girl opened her fist. She found a shattered crystal. 

“Oh my…” 

Bakugou growled, frustration willing up and tipping over. “The fuck!” 

Recovery Girl glared at him. Such language shouldn’t be used in front of a child. 

“Typical healing methods aren’t going to work.” 

Silence reigned over this time, willing the old lady to continue on, both his and his son’s hearts on the edge. 

“I believe she’d been cursed.” 

Bakugou scrunched up his eyebrows at the absurd explanation. Who’d curse you of all people ? He only just discovered your existence!

Yet for some reason, he felt like he’d rather die than let you, the one who could love him for all his flaws, the one who always brought a smile on his son’s face, suffer. 

“How?” The deity up there must be very cruel, to take you away when he just met you. 

“I don’t know, son. There’s a very strong, malevolent energy, enough to break a healing crystal. It’s going to make her body reject anything that could heal it,” she explained solemnly. 

“If you want this young lady healthy and well, we need to take different measures to heal her. Also, do you know who cursed, or where she could have incurred it? That will be very helpful.” 

Bakugou looked at Matsuki, knowing that he himself is clueless. 

“This is the first time I met her. Matsuki seems to have met her a while ago in her tiny ass cottage outside the protective barrier.” She looked like she had some questions, but instead directed her attention to the little Bakugou and asked him what matters most right now. 

“Do you know anyone that might’ve done this? Have you seen her interact with anyone that could possibly be capable of it?” She knew asking a child would likely be more fruitless then not, but she still wished to help you in any way she could. 

Matsuki shook his head. 

“I’ve never even seen her talk with anyone.” This only served to increase Bakugou’s suspensions. Could it be something to do with your affiliation with Matsuki ? And if that was the case, then there’s so many other things he must take into account too, because that would mean that there’s a traitor in their midst, or at least someone that had been tracking Matsuki for… what fucking ever reason. 

He sighed, feeling an ache beginning to form in his head. He touched your arm, wanting to reassure himself that you are alive. 

A gasp rang out from the occupants of the room when you opened your eyes, making them seem glowy when the sunlight reflected off them, giving you an ethereal, angelic radiance. 

The air left his lungs, while blood rushed to his cheeks, making them seem ripe as apples. 

“How is this possible?” 

This shocked him awake, out of his reverie and into reality. 

Recovery Girl glanced at the arm Bakugo was touching, humming to herself with a knowing glint in her old, wise eyes. 

“Well, my king, did you forget? The oldest, most powerful magic that dragons have been gifted::soulmates.” 

Bakugo blushed again, kissing his teeth and glaring at Recovery Girl. 

“What are you babbling on about, old hag?” 

“I believe you know.” 

He glared at the ground, childishly not answering. 

“Um...what’s going on?” A small, feminine voice asked. Bakugou turned to you, melting at the majestic sound of your voice. 

“That’s a good question.” That brat. 

Bakugou tried to stay in contact with you, afraid of making the burst of magic triggered by your bond slipping away. 

“Uh, you lost unconsciousness and Matsuki asked me to help you. Oh, and apparently you were cursed.” Bakugou bluntly spits the facts at you, not thinking ahead for your reaction. 

“A CURSE?” you shouted, coughing after due to hoarseness. The old hag shot Bakugou another glare, before sweetening up and looking at you. 

“We’ll explain after you rest a bit and freshen up, you’d been through quite a bit.” she said, deliberately not divulging any information yet. She didn’t need to be there for the grand explanation. She’d rather not be, actually. 

She stood on her weary legs, leaving the room unnoticed as you admired your surroundings, and as Bakugou admired you. Matsuki’s stare lacked the burn of fascination as he stared at his father grumpily. 

“The fuck you looking at her so weird for?” Matsuki seethed. You gasped and turned to him. 

“Matsuki!” He bristled in frustration, having forgotten how much you hated it when he cursed. 

“Sorry. He was though!” 

Bakugou, throughout the whole thing, glared at his son with blushing cheeks. He wanted to spank some respect into him so bad right now. 

You turned to Bakugo, gaze weighty in the seriousness it’s burdened with. 

“Thanks for helping me, I appreciate it. You’re Matsuki’s father, right? The resemblance is hard to miss. Well, I have a lot of questions, but firstly, what do you mean by cursed?” 

You felt as if a rock was pressed against your chest, gloom overtaking your features as you awaited his answer. Still hopeful that it was a joke, but the ancient dark magic was not to be joked with. 

“Someone cursed you. It’s the cause for your sickness, and it’s slowly sapping the life out of you. You’re only awake because uh...the magic of our bond is more powerful.” Bakugou rushed the last part, his heart beating, squeezing painfully when silence hung in the air after his not so confession. 

You purse your lips, the movement catching Bakugo’s attention, drawing him to your lips. Supple, kissable lips. 

“Our bond?” 

Bakugo nodded. 

“You’re my soulmate, it’s why—probably why Matsuki was so drawn to you.” Bakugo was looking forward to explaining more, before his door was busted open (a common occurrence these days it seems) by a panting soldier, who summoned the strength to salute stiffly. 

“Your majesty, we have received a letter from Celeane Siloh.” 

Well, what a great introduction to the family. 

...............

Kofi

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this !

[hotch-stufff]

Love is Complicated

gifs by hqtchner & ncis-season-

Pairing: Hotch x reader, Gibbs x reader

Warnings!: angst, pining, kissing, fluff

Request: "well i was thinking about a criminal minds x ncis crossover, where the reader has a big crush on gibbs but then she meets hotch and she is really confused 😿" @wolviesbabes

--------

Your hand scribbled yet another word on the endless stack of paperwork that littered your desk. It really did never end. You set your pen down. You needed a break. You looked up and your eyes instantly found him. He was hunched over his desk, probably doing the same thing you were doing.

But God, did he look good doing it. Although in your opinion he looked good doing just about everything.

You noticed that about him over the past couple months on the NCIS team. You had been transfered from another similar unit in New Orleans on the recommendation of Dwayne Pride himself. Gibbs was quick to accept you to the unit, but he remained cold to you for the first couple of weeks. It wasn't until you saved him from a, for lack of better words, crazy gunman did he warm up to you.

After that, you two had gotten extremely close. So close that you developed a small crush on the man. Although, you hid it rather well. No one, atleast not to your knowledge, knew about your crush. And you intended on keeping it that way, but it was so hard when he was just sitting right in front of you, looking all handsome and just... him.

You wanted to tell him. You really did. But he was way out of your league, and you weren't even his type. But a girl could dream.

Vance suddenly came out of his office and called Gibbs up. He stood slowly and walked away. You prayed this wasn't a case. You really did not feel like dealing with a case right now.

He came back out a few moments later, a scowl on his face.

"What is it Gibbs?" You asked, he jerked his head towards Vance's office.

"He wants the team to attend an interagency gala on Saturday night." You scoffed. Of course he did. "FBI, CIA, and NCIS teams are all expected to attend. Including us." His scowled deepened at the thought of having to deal with other agencies.

"Great, just great." And you were so looking forward to a quiet weekened.

* * *

The night of the gala had arrived much quicker than expected. And of course Abby had insisted on going shopping for dresses. She herself had gotten a long black dress, with a slit. She said she would add a few things to make it more like her, and you couldn't wait to see it. You had gone with a more subtle dress. A long emerald green dress, with spaghetti straps and an open back. The front dipped slightly.

You had brought it with you to the office so you could get ready with Abby and as you were heading to the elevator to go to her floor, you heard Gibbs on the phone. Now you weren't one to eavesdrop, but you really couldn't stop yourself.

"I know, I know, it won't take long. I promise. Bye." Was he with someone else? You stood there frozen as he emerged from the room he was in.

"Hey y/n. Whatchtya doin?" He asked suspiciously.

"Oh, um nothing Gibbs, thought I heard you and wanted to say bye before we left, I didnt think you would actually go to the gala tonight, so I thought I could just stop in and-" he cut you off.

"Slow down, you're rambling. You okay?" You needed to get out of there.

"Yup, just been a long day. Alright well bye." You rushed off to Abby office. Once you got there, she instantly asked what was wrong. You explained everything. Your feelings, the conversation you heard, just everything.

"Awe, y/n/n. I'm so sorry. He's stupid if he doesn't see whats right in front of him." That made you smile.

"We should get ready." You stated standing up to grab your dress.

2 hours later, you and Abby walked up stairs looking amazing if you did say so yourself. Wolf whistles were heard coming from Tony as you two walked towards the group. You rolled your eyes, catching Gibbs smirk.

His eyes dragged up and down your body, which had confused you greatly. He had never showed any interest in you before, why now? Maybe he had and was just better at hiding it.

"Well, we should get going." You nodded, you all walked out to the SUVs ready for the night ahead of you.

* * *

The gala was interesting to say the least. Each agency decided to stay away from eachother, like elementary students. Each group taking up their own circle around the room.

You had spotted a rather handsome man who you had recognized as Aaron Hotchner sitting at the FBI tables and couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him. You new you had feelings for Gibbs,, but something about this man just drew you in. You had previously met him on a conjoined case with your old team, and you had developed the smallest of crushes on the man. You never expected anything to happen, and he was only in New Orleans for about a week.

Suddenly Gibbs popped back into your head, and you huffed slightly, turning to search for him. Finding him at a table nearby, talking with a woman. You scoffed and he looked over at you.

In a moment of impulse, you tunred away and walked across the empty dance floor straight to Agent Hotchner. He looked up from his conversation as you neared his table.

"Hi, NCIS Agent Y/l/n. We worked together on the Williams case about a year back." He nodded in recognition.

"Of course. Its great to see you again agent y/l/n." He paused looking you up and down in a way you welcomed. "Can I help you with something." He asked, not unkindly at all, but rather friendly.

"I was wondering if you would like to dance." He raised an eyebrow at you. "Someone's got to break the chill in this room." He nodded and stood up slowly, his team staring on in awe. You figured he didn't do this very often.

"I would love to." He took your hand bringing you to the dance floor as another song began. You two danced for about 10 minutes before more couples began to join you. You smiled in triumph and Hotchner laughed at your face.

"What? It worked didn't it?" He smiled shaking his head.

"I suppose it did." You two began talking and laughing and just getting to know each other. You soon found yourself at a table as you continued with your conversation.

"Okay but, im just saying if Strauss is anything like Vance, they would be perfect together." He laughed at this rather loudly, catching the eyes of a few people near by.

"That would never happen. If Vance is anything like Strauss they would drive each other crazy." You giggled softly. Soon it was time to leave, and Agent Hotchner, or Aaron as he had asked you to call him, offered to walk you to your SUV where the rest of your team was waiting. They all eyed you as this strange man walked you over, handing you a card and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You had blushed profusely and walked over, getting in the car.

"So y/n, whos the hottie?" Abby began interrogating you as soon as you shut your door.

"Thats Agent Hotchner. He's the Unit Chief of the FBI's BAU." You smiled to yourself.

"Must be an ass if he's from the FBI." Gibbs remarked, another scowl gracing his face.

"He was actually quite the gentlman." Was your only response before turning to look out the window. Gibbs was the one being an ass. You had just spent the night with a wonderful man and Gibbs just had to ruin it by spouting some snarky comment that only confused you more. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

* * *

Once back at the office, Gibbs had called you to the elevator, not giving you a chance to respond. You had of course listened, and as soon as the doors shut, he had pulled the emergency button.

"What is it Gibbs?" You asked softly. He just walked closer to you, cupping your face. "What are you doing?" He leaned in slowly bringing his lips to yours.

And you had expected it to be perfect and explosive and passionate. But... it wasn't. He pulled away after only a moment.

"Hang on, let me try that again." And he leaned in once more, pressing his lips to yours. But once again, there was nothing. He pulled away.

"That was ... strange?" He asked, more to himslef than anything.

"I uh, that-that was-"

"Not what I was expecting." He finished for you.

"You know Gibbs, I've been pining over you for months, and I'm guessing you felt the same. But I think we both met someone else tonight that changed our minds." You recalled him spending the whole night side by side with the woman you had seen earlier. You smiled shyly at him. "Call that woman you were with tonight. Tell her you want to go out on a date." He smiled looking into your eyes.

"Only if you call Agent Hochie, or whatever his name was, and tell him the same." You laughed at not only his comment, but the absurdity of the situation. For the past 5 months you had been yearning for a man who ended up not being what you wanted at all. It made you think that maybe what you really wanted, what you both really wanted, was someone to love. So you latched on to the person who had become closest to you.

"I love ya y/n." He whispered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you too Gibbs. Now go get her." He stepped out of the elevator, pulling out his phone. You did the same, pulling out Aaron's card. It rang once. Twice.

"Hotchner." You giggled at his formal greeting. Taking a deep breath before going for it.

"Hey Aaron, I was just wondering if you were up for dinner?" He smiled.

"Of course. You know, I'm really glad you called."

"Me too." And you walked out of your office that night, a date with a man you had never expected, and a smile on your face.

-------

Not sure how I feel about this one, but I loved the request. Let me know what you guys think!! Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[lightsovermonaco]

Speed and Stress: Part 2

Masterlist

Thank you to @acollectionofficsandshit for betaing, your comments on this one were unhinged gold 

Word Count: 3.1k

Recommended Vibes: “Perfect Day” by Tundra Beats

Part 1

Your brother was late. Not that anyone was surprised.

“Got the time mixed up,” he says as you climb into his absurdly tall truck. Living in Texas for three years had turned him into somewhat of a country boy, though not enough that he forgot his upbringing. He was still a blue blooded Los Angeles boy, just with a love for trucks and longhorn cattle.

“At least I wasn’t waiting for an hour this time,” you say and sling your bag to the backseat. Deciding to get right to the good stuff, you clasp  your hands together. “So! I have some news.”

Hunter grins at you. “You finally found a job?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “No, dipshit. Better than that. I got us paddock passes for the whole weekend.”

“WHAT?” He jerks the wheel, horns honking at you as other drivers swerve. You grab the dash to steady yourself, laughing at his outburst. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get general admission tickets? How the hell did you get paddock passes?”

“May have met someone pretty high up at McLaren in Los Angeles,” you say, examining your nails.

“Like, Zak Brown? You met Zak Brown?” Hunter was such a fan boy, you had to laugh. His love for McLaren ran so deep he practically bled blue and orange. The only reason you watched the sport was because of him shoving it down your throat for years, but damn if you weren't glad for it.

“Daniel Ricciardo.”

Hunter choked on air but managed to stay in his lane this time. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was him when I met him! He was on a motorcycle and I stopped to help film a tiktok and then-”

“Of course you’d stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re a sucker for bikes.”

“Yeah well, lucky that I am, cause all I had to do was flirt to get us those passes.”

Your intention had never been to take advantage of Daniel. It was more the opposite in fact; you were just living in the moment and capitalizing on the once in a lifetime opportunity to flirt with your celebrity crush. You had to admit, it turned out better than you'd ever thought it would.

“I can’t believe you seduced Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo,” he says, shaking his head. “You astound me.”

“I didn’t seduce him!” You protest.

"Sorry my bad. You charmed him. That sound better?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. I damn near had a heart attack when I figured out it was him but he was kind enough to let me brush it off."

"Well, thank god for your two-wheeled obsession because without it, we would be watching the prix from the nosebleeds."

You laugh and shake your head. Hunter tended to have a poor filter when he was excited and tended to spew whatever was on his mind. "Just watch your tongue this weekend, alright? I'd rather embarrass myself than have you do it for me."

Hunter gives a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

**********

You'd stuffed five different outfits in your bag in preparation for the grand prix weekend. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to decide what to wear. But Friday morning you changed clothes so many times you lost count. No matter what combination you tried you weren't satisfied.

Finally, you give up and settle on a McLaren polo and denim shorts. Simple and comfortable, but form fitting enough to catch Daniel's eye should you run into him.

You knew you shouldn't, but you pull out your phone to text him anyway.

Thanks again for the tickets. Let me know if you've got any free time so I can properly thank you!

You hit send before your brain has the chance to overanalyze the message. You check your phone obsessively the entire drive to the circuit, only half expecting a response. You tuck your phone in your pocket when you get to the gates, determined not to let it get to you. Daniel warned you he would be busy, and you knew that responding to you was likely on the low end of his list of priorities.

Hunter gets you to the circuit a half hour before they let fans in and you have to listen to him ramble about driver stats the entire time. Normally you don't mind; guessing who's most likely to win each Sunday is something of a competition in your household. But today, you couldn't focus enough to put any thought into your prediction, instead just blurting Daniel's name.

"You're only saying that cause he's into you," Hunter says, grinning savagely. "He struggles in Austin and you know it."

"So? He's in a McLaren this year. You saw his pace in Bahrain, and that was with a damaged floor! He'll podium for sure." You cross your arms and return his grin. "Besides, he's motivated."

"Oh, is he?"

"I told him I'd buy the winner of the United States grand prix a drink. Up to him whether it's him or Verstappen."

"Oh my god you have a date with Daniel Ricciardo?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not set in stone. Honestly, he's probably forgotten that I exist."

"Has he texted you?"

You glance down at your phone and are greeted with an empty inbox. "No. Not after the initial time so I could have his number." You shrug and pick an invisible piece of lint from your arm. "But he said he'd be too busy anyway."

"Guess we'll see once we get to will call, huh? If he's forgotten about you."

"Yeah." An odd feeling rolls through you. It feels a bit like nerves mixed with hope, but you stamp down on it. You were here to enjoy yourself. The trip of a lifetime had been handed to you on a golden platter and you were wont to let something as trivial as nervousness ruin it.

Bells chime as you step into the blissfully cool will call office. A blonde woman with a bit too much blush dusted on her cheeks greets you with a smile. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Picking up some tickets that were left for me by a driver?" You try, unsure of the proper procedure. "I don't have a paper or anything."

She waves a hand in the air as if she expected as much. "All I need is your identification. They should be under the name."

"Oh uh, of course." You motion for Hunter to hand over your wallet and show the woman your driver's license.

"Great. Wait here and I'll grab those for you."

You drum your fingers on the desk while waiting for her to return. After what feels like ages she re-emerges empty handed.

"I'm not seeing anything here with your name on it," she says, her plastic smile at odds with her sincerity. "I'm afraid your tickets aren't valid until Sunday."

"Can you double check? Daniel said they'd be here-"

"So sorry. There's no record of anyone dropping tickets off for you."

You blink, holding your tongue in the face of her blunt response. "Okay. I guess ill try and get it sorted out."

Hunter breaks the tension. "Can't you call him?"

"I can't just call him, I'm sure he's busy."

"Either that or we don't get in. Just do it, he gave you his number and specifically told you to let him know if there were any problems, didn't he?"

Yes he had, but that didn't mean you wanted to disturb him. He was probably knees deep in some sort of race weekend press conference or drivers meeting and heaven forbid you interrupt.  But it was either that or you slink home disappointed and empty handed.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling out your phone with deliberate slowness. Hunter crosses his arms and tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well?"

"It's dialing, you good for nothing busybody-"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Daniel answers, voice radiating sunshine.

You cut right to the chase, not giving yourself a single second to evaluate how your heart skips. "Look, I don't wanna distract you on a race weekend but I'm at will call and they're telling me they can't find any passes left for me."

"Let me guess," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the pneumatic tools in the background, "You're dealing with Jenny?"

Your eyes fall to the name on the woman's lanyard. She shifts under your gaze like she knew exactly who you were on the phone with. "Yep. Spot on."

"Kinda figured she would be a problem. She's got a huge crush on me and does this every time."

You fight back the strange sensation his offhand comment brings to the surface. "Oh, really?"

"I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes or so."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Hey, no big deal. I gotta go that way anyway."

"Uh, okay. See you soon?"

"Yup. On my way."

You hang up and stare down at the phone, stunned.

"Well?" Hunter asks.

"I guess he's coming here to sort it out himself."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "Hold on. Are you telling me that I get to meet Daniel? Like right now?"

"Can you relax?" You laugh lightly. "Honestly you're gonna freak him out."

"Uh, yeah sure. No big deal, just meeting one of my favorite drivers in the minus five minutes and I'm completely unprepared. It's fine."

If you roll your eyes any harder they'd pop out of your head. "Relax. He's laid back, but I don't want you to freak out and embarrass us both."

"Excuse me," Jenny breaks in, her distaste clear. "Please move aside if you're not picking up passes."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." You shuffle awkwardly off to the side to wait. Cheesy elevator music plays and Jenny shoots you glares until the door squeaks open and the human incarnation of the sun steps inside. Your breathing stutters when the Australian shoots you a wink and a grin before sauntering up to the counter.

"Why hello there Jen," he says, and she giggles coyly. 

"Hi Daniel." She lays a hand on his forearm, the touch light and flirty. "What can I help you with?"

Daniel leans into her, whispering conspiratorially. Whatever he says has her bold smile faltering, replaced by a mask of professional cheer. Daniel shoots you another wink as the woman retreats to a back room, returning moments later with your supposedly missing passes.

"Thank you," Daniel says sweetly, taking them from her and turning to you. "I think these are yours."

"Thanks." You take the passes and hand one off to your awestruck brother. You nudge him and he comes to his senses in time to shake the hand Daniel sticks out.

"You must be the brother," he says. "I see you're a fan."

Dressed head to toe in McLaren colors, there was no other conclusion for Daniel to draw. For once your brother is the one stunned into silence so you answer for him, "Yeah, only a little. He was crushed when you left Red Bull cause Max is his other favorite driver and now he has to split his loyalties between teams."

Dan's laugh snaps Hunter out of his trance. "I know you're busy but do you think you can sign something for me?"

"Of course. How about this?" Daniel snatches the hat from Hunter's head and produces a sharpie from his pocket, signing the brim with practiced efficiency. 

"He'll be texting the group chat about that as soon as you're gone," you tell Daniel who laughs along with you.

Heat rises to your cheeks as Daniel's assessing gaze sweeps you from head to toe. "McLaren orange looks good on you."

Channeling his easy confidence you flash him a grin. "Not as good as it looks on you."

He smooths the hem of his soft shell jacket, smile turning bashful. "Anyway. I gotta run. See you Sunday after I win!"

Your eyes follow him as he jogs back through the paddock until he's swallowed by the crowd. You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. God, he was gorgeous. And he had such a big heart. It was a shame someone hadn't snatched him up yet, but then again, that meant you still had a shot, even if it was a slim one.

"So where exactly do these get us?" Hunter toys with the lanyard now placed around his neck. "It doesn't say."

"I'm guessing the McLaren lounge," you say and point to the logo on the passes. "Above the garage."

"That's the perfect vantage point for practice."

And it was the perfect view- before getting in the car Daniel walked out into the pit, suited up in his cobalt racesuit and minty helmet and glanced up. You weren't sure if he saw you or not when you waved but he gave a little salute nonetheless.

Hunter was practically glued to the bank of floor to ceiling windows for the entirety of free practice, immersing himself in the experience. You found yourself glancing at the timing tables every lap, silently hoping to see the RIC tag move up. By the end of the second session he had been fourth fastest, a few tenths behind both Mercedes and the Red Bull of Verstappen. 

By the time you make it back to Hunter's house, you're both exhausted from a full day of running up and down the paddock. The pair of you had been determined to soak up every second of it, sneaking into whatever offices you could and stealing bites off the buffets and cups of coffee. 

Saturday’s free practice and qualifying session pass in a blur of color. Daniel drags his McLaren up the ranks to qualify fourth, his best starting position so far this season. He had a decent shot at the podium- Bottas should be easy pickings and if Verstappen and Hamilton made any mistakes, Daniel might even have a shot at the win.

The excitement in the air is palpable as you both flash your badges and head back up the now familiar path to the McLaren lounge. An hour before lights out, the v6 engines rumble to life below. You venture out onto the balcony, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Daniel.

The Aussie does you one better by walking out, race suit on and helmet in hand. He chats animatedly with Michael before stopping and craning his neck upwards. Michael nudges him with his elbow but Dan ignores him, answering your tiny wave with a wink. He mimes taking a drink and you roll your eyes.

Dan throws his head back and laughs, audible over the cacophony below. He gives you one final salute before Michael drags him back into the garage.

Ten minutes later cars begin streaming out on track, Daniel taking the fourth grid place as his mechanics once again swarm him. Tire blankets are secured, keeping them warm and pliable ahead of the formation lap. Thirty seconds before the boys are released, they're peeled back off as everyone scrambles off the pavement. Verstappen leads them away down the 3.4 mile track for the formation lap. Dan does a few small power slides before taking his place on the second row.

One by one, the red lights illuminate and disappear quicker than your blink. Daniel gets away clean while Bottas stumbles out of the gate, leaving himself wide open for Daniel's overtake on his right side. Cheers erupt around you, your brother going so far as to lift you off your feet.

Maybe Dan had a shot at winning after all.

A nail-biting 38 laps pass without a change in the order of the top three. Finally, a mistake in Max's pit stop sees him return to track third, just behind Daniel. The McLaren driver puts up the fight of his life, late braking at every corner and defending his position for all he was worth. Lewis was twenty seconds ahead- he wouldn't be winning but he could defend his second place spot.

Lewis Hamilton, race winner for the seventh time at the Circuit of the Americas!

Daniel Ricciardo crosses the line second, Max Verstappen takes home that last podium step for Red Bull. An astonishing fifty six laps here today in Austin!

The box erupts around you, a roar of cheers making it impossible to hear what else Crofty and Brundle were saying. But it didn't matter as Daniel raises his fist when he swings back into parc ferme, jumping out to be congratulated by his team. It was his first podium for the papaya team and you can tell it means the world to them.

"Looks like you're taking Lewis out for a drink," your brother teases. "Told you he wouldn't win."

"He almost won," you counter. "But hey, I'm not above asking Lewis on a date. Could you imagine? I mean, he would never agree, but still. It would be a hell of a date."

If you crane your neck from the balcony, you can just barely see the podium. Everyone goes quiet for the anthems and erupts again when the champagne is sprayed. The McLaren team chant for a shoey, which Daniel obliges. He sits to unlace his mint green boot and pours champagne into it, drinking from the boot before passing it to Max who joins in on the fun. 

Just as quickly as it began, the celebrations ebb. Daniel is the first to leave the podium which seems odd, given that the PR department surely wants his first big win for the team to be well documented.

Your phone buzzes a second layer. You fish it out of your pocket, a Cheshire grin splitting your face.

"Shouldn't you be busy celebrating?"

"I am," Dan starts, sounding breathless. You can barely hear him over the sound of the crowds chants behind him. "But I want to celebrate with you. I know I didn't win, but how about you let me buy you a drink instead?"

You barely hear anything beyond his first sentence. I want to celebrate with you. Were you dreaming? There was no way this was real.

"Um, I'm sorry, you want to celebrate by going out with me instead of your team?"

"If you'll let me. Hey- just text me okay? I can barely hear you over everyone screaming my name. It may be going to my head."

You laugh, drawing the attention of the vip's nearest you. You give an apologetic smile and move further from the crowd. "I'll text you an address. See you later, second place."

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

I Can't Help It If You Look Like an Angel

Summary: Spencer is not that kind of doctor, but he'll always come when Y/N needs him, even if germs are involved.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Warnings: One cuss (sh!t), kisses, small insecurities

Word Count: 2.5 k (was not supposed to be this long but I'm a monster)

Author's Note: From this list (3, 12, 14) since I hit 300 followers! Thank you! This request is from @willowrose99 (look for the bold)

I Can't Help It If You Look Like an Angel

Spencer’s half done with his third book that weekend when his phone rang. A weekend spent in the company of Nietzsche and Sartre is, according to Spencer at least, a weekend well spent. He can feel the relaxation that settles in his bones come crashing down as he phone rings.

Thinking it’s Hotch calling the team in for an unexpected case, Spencer, lethargically, walks over to answer the phone. However, realizing the caller is not his boss pulling him away from a restful weekend, but Y/N, his heart rushes with a sudden urge of excitement.

“Y/N,” Spencer starts. He’s more than happy to have Y/N interrupt his weekend; they even made plans for a day out on Saturday at the new Anthropology museum that opened downtown. But all of Spencer’s made up plans fall in front of his face, as he hears Y/N’s quiet sniffles.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry to bother you. I know that you’re probably enjoying your rest, but I guess I have a cold. One of the kids at school, I suppose,” Y/N tells him in between sniffles. Her voice is scratchy and Spencer tries not to think about how his brain seems to short circuit at the way his name sounds.

“I’m coming over,” Spencer says, cutting her off. He doesn’t like doing that, in fact he hates when that happens to him, but right now he knows that Y/N is going to try her hardest to stop him from coming over.

“No Spence, it’s germs. You hate germs and I’m really gross and snotty and—”

“Stop, Y/N. Don’t say another word. I’m on my way” Spencer says. He feels a little guilty for hanging up on her, but he knows that if he stayed on the line any longer she’d end up convincing him that he didn’t need to rush over. There’s not a lot of people in this world that can convince Spencer to change his mind, and he’s pretty sure that Y/N is one of them.

Spencer walks into his bedroom, looking for some supplies like a man on a mission. He decides to pack a small bag for the next three days. He’s off from work anyway, why not spend that time making sure Y/N gets better. Spencer packs away a couple of sweaters, flannel pajama pants and two thermal shirts. In the back of his drawer he spots a very old college tee shirt.

A memory, an early memory with Y/N, comes flooding to the surface. They got caught in a rainstorm after a picnic in the nearby park. Spencer changed into his comfortable tee shirt and pajamas. He would never forget the look on Y/N’s face; the way the rain collected on her glasses and for some reason she had yet to wipe them off. She called him an angel. Maybe it’s for bringing her some warm clothes or maybe she’s slightly on edge from their dash into Spencer’s apartment. Whatever it was that made her call him an angel, Spencer never wanted her to call him anything else. Besides his own name, in that scratchy sick voice that made him feel a little guilty for liking so much.

Spencer collects some other things he needs for his stay. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hair brush, and his hair serum that Y/N says she likes the way it smells. When she told him that, Spencer could hardly wait to buy the entire supply from the CVS down the street. He tucks away in this bag with a small smile.

Walking out of his apartment, Spencer locks up and makes his way down to his car. He glances at his watch, realizing that it only took him a couple of minutes to get ready for Y/N. Quicker than what it takes for him to get ready for an emergency case. Then again, tending to a sick Y/N seems much pleasurable then looking at served bodies and mangled limbs.

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After making a pit stop at a small convenience store near Y/N’s apartment, Spencer pulls into the guest parking spot near her complex. He attempts to shoulder the weight of his go bag; even though he only packed a couple philosophy books, they are quite dense. In his hands, he grasps the grocery bags.

Y/N’s apartment, thankfully, is on the first floor. Spencer approaches the door and thinks twice about knocking or ringing the doorbell. The last thing he wants to do is wake a sick Y/N up. He rummages in his pants for his car keys. Attached to the keys is a cat keychain with a spare key to Y/N’s apartment. Balancing the groceries and his own bag, Spencer quietly attempts to open Y/N’s door without possibly waking her up.

Once he finally gets the door open, Spencer realizes all too late that a large orange cat guards the tight hallway entrance. Spencer Reid, though a genius in his own right, is completely aware of the fact that he has two left feet.

“Oh, Zelda! Oh shit!,” Spencer yells as he trips over Zelda, Y/N’s orange cat. Zelda, scared from the noise, leaps from her spot guarding the hallway to the kitchen. Spencer brushes himself from his fall and picks up the groceries that fell during his tumble.

“Zelda, baby?” Y/N calls from what sounds like the couch from the other side of the wall.

“Hi Y/N, it’s just me. It’s just Spencer,” He says, placing the oranges back in his canvas bag and on the kitchen table. He sees Y/N laying on the couch. Surrounded by a pile of crumpled tissues, she smiles weakly at Spencer. He walks over to her and like an involuntary muscle, she scoots her feet so Spencer has room to sit.

Spencer, setting the beg on the floor, tucks Y/N’s legs over his. He rests a comforting hand on her calf that’s covered by a worn quilt.

“You didn’t have to come Spencer. I’m really okay, I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t ghosting you this weekend,” Y/N explains. The TV has been left on, but on mute. The colorful lights illuminate Y/N’s face in her dimly lit apartment.

“Nonsense, Y/N. What are friends for,” Spencer offers, wondering beyond belief if he messed up calling them friends. Their relationship had been quite strange for the past couple of weeks. Intense moments of silence where Spencer thinks he’d have the time to memorize every freckle on her nose or small grazes from fingers to wrists where Spencer swears she left scars that he hope would never heal.

“Friends,” Y/N says quietly. Spencer, offering a tight lipped smile, leans forward to straighten the blankets under Y/N’s chin. He presses the back of his hand towards Y/N’s forehead, feeling her warm skin under his knuckles. He’s not sure if the heat he feels is from her bug or from the adrenaline coursing through his veins at being this close to Y/N.

“You’re hot,” Spencer says, not moving his hand from Y/N’s forehead. She, loving the way his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed, uncovers her arm from under the blankets and holds onto his wrist, keeping him attached to her forehead. Not that he’d want it any other way.

“So are you,” Y/N says. Spencer flinches and moves his hand from her forehead like she scorched his hand. In reality, her comment pierced his heart with hope.

“How much cough syrup did you take?” Spencer asks, choosing to face the situation with humor. There’s no way in the world Y/N could ever find him “hot” without the aid of cough syrup or another mind numbing substance.

“None,” Y/N says, reaching around to turn off the television. Spencer, getting increasingly nervous as the minutes of that intense silence passed, mentions to Y/N that he needs to put the groceries away.

“You really didn’t need to do that, Spence. I feel bad enough that you came here just to get sick yourself,” Y/N says. She’s folding the blankets that she was just resting under.

“I’ll always come when you need me to, Y/N” Spencer says, his breath catching and his eyes latching onto Y/N. He looks at her too long and there’s that intense silence again. Silence that is as thick as fog. Spencer can’t see facts through all the love that swallows him whole looking at Y/N.

“Maybe I knew that, and maybe that’s why I called you,” Y/N murmurs quietly, almost like she’s more scared to admit it to herself than to Spencer.

“Maybe,” Spencer says, breaking her gaze to put the half melted tub of green tea ice cream in the freezer.

“I think I’m going to shower, I need to put a fresh pair of pajamas on. I’ll be right out,” Y/N tells him, turning on her heel and leaving Spencer along with his thoughts.

Spencer can hear the water from the shower turn on. He estimates that Y/N will take at least 5 minutes in the shower, accounting for a margin of error, he supposes that he should start to heat the soup he bought from the store now, so it’s ready for Y/N when she’s done in the shower. Too bad all Spencer’s brain power is good for his statistics and numbers, not recipes and romance.

As it turns out, not a single statistic, nor a single digit could account for the possibility of Y/N walking out her bedroom, her hair damp and skin practically glowing, wearing Spencer’s worn college tee shirt. Spencer reckons that his eyes must have been bugging out from his head, given the spirited smile Y/N wears.

���I’m sorry, Spence, you know how much I love this tee shirt. I was putting some of your stuff away in your drawer and I saw this and I just couldn’t help myself. God it even smells a little bit like that hair gunk you wear,” Y/N rambles. She stands, leaning on her door frame, staring at Spencer who holds a wooden spoon that he used to stir the soup.

“You look like an angel,” Spencer says before he can stop himself. He just knows that his face is flaming red.

“You remember that?” Y/N asks, her voice light and hopeful. Spencer recognizes something in it. It’s the way his voice sounds when he talks to her, about her, with her. He can only hope that this is the way she always talks to him. He hopes with every fiber of his being that she uses that light and hopeful voice with him and only him.

“Of course Y/N. Then again, even if I didn’t have an eidetic memory, I’d still remember every single detail about you,”

“Now you’re making me feel guilty about stealing your shirt. You’re being all sweet and kind with me, it makes me fuzzy in the head,” Y/N confesses. She walks to her kitchen table, slowly closing the gap between her and Spencer.

“Keep it, it looks better on you anyway,” Spencer tells her. Her eyes grow big at his words and she presses her lips together like she’s holding something in. But something in her switches. Something in her grows a little sad and Spencer watches before his eyes as Y/N withdraws into herself.

“You can’t say that stuff to me, Spencer. You can’t say that stuff to me and not expect me to love you more than I already do,” Y/N says, her eyes shut and her lips pinched so tightly that it almost looks painful.

“Y/N,” Spencer starts, unsure what he’s supposed to say. His brain always seems to be playing catch up around Y/N. “Can I say it if I do love you back?”

Y/N eyes flutter open and narrow at Spencer, as if she’s reading him. Her eyes scan for any sign of a joke, of a prank, of Spencer trying to trick her. Maybe he should be upset that Y/N is doubting him, but all Spencer can feel is hatred for the person that made her doubt herself so much to not believe him.

“I’ve never felt what I feel when I’m with you, Y/N. No one else has made me feel truly me except you, Y/N,” Spencer professes, setting down the wooden spoon on the counter to reach Y/N’s hand.

“I never thought you’d feel the same way, Spence. I love you, God. That feels so good to say,” Y/N says, letting out a strained laugh. Spencer standing up next to her, places his hands on Y/N cheeks, and tries to lean in lower to kiss her, but Y/N’s finger on his lips stops his movement.

“I’m so sorry, I should have asked. I thought that this is-” Spencer stammers, suddenly very concerned that he violated Y/N in some way.

“Shhh, angel. It’s okay. I want you to kiss me. I really do, but I just want you to tell the facts on you getting sick if you kiss me,” Y/N says, not moving her finger from Spencer’s soft lips. He kisses her finger and grasps her hand with his.

“Sorry, I just had to do that,” Spencer smirks, “but to answer your question, unless you have a bad cough, and some of the respiratory mucus has made its way into your saliva, the cold virus will not be transmitted by kissing,”

“That’s good, so please kiss me, Spencer,” Y/N practically begs, eager for Spencer to leave pieces of him all over her. Eager for him to leave physical evidence of the marking he’s already left on her heart.

“You just might have to take care of me next week,” Spencer counters, peppering kisses over her jaw, knowing he’s purposely avoiding her lips.

“Spencer, I’m sick! Don’t tease me, just kiss me,” Y/N whines, and Spencer caves. He leans in slowly, meeting his lips to Y/N’s. It was the kiss that Spencer knew he’d be waiting for. A kiss that seals fate without a return address. A kiss that reminds him that he’s alive. A kiss that says forever and always.

Spencer, resting his chin against Y/N’s head, closes his eyes. The intense silence that existed between them, now is this light and hopeful air.

“Y/N, do you use my hair gunk?” Spencer asks. He can’t help but giggle with her and breathe in the familiar scent of her hair. He places three kisses on Y/N’s head and gently pushes her hair to the side to kiss down the back of her neck.

“I’m not sure what I love more, the smell of your hair gunk or the man that wears it,”

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@shemarmooresfedora

@willowrose99

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Tell me what you thought!

[rayslittlekitten]

You Got This - Part 2

I recommend reading Part 1 first if you haven't.

Plot: After having a heart to heart, you and Jax re-live your youth.

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! Reader

Contains: a lot of fluff and fluffy sex, also a shit ton of Jax smoking porn, and you see his butt 🙃

A/N:  Thank you Anon for this request.  I hope you and the other readers enjoy this (if not more) than the first part. This took me longer than I expected to write this, but it's finally done.  I kept going back and forth on trying to decide what to include and what not to.  Also, had I known I was going to be writing a part two for this, the beginning of this would have been at the end of part one, but hindsight is 20/20. I actually did already write out most of the beginning but decided to leave it out of part one because I thought where I left it was a good place to end it. I also thought about eliminating it completely but I really like the interaction that happens with Gemma.  To me it's like a beauty shot. Is it necessary and does it move the story along at all? Not quite, but it looks good so let's just leave it in there anyways. Also to squeeze a little bit more angst out of Jax.

Also, I had a bit of trouble writing this as well because as strange as this sounds, I couldn't find the perfect song to pair with this.  Sometimes I need music to help me get into the mindset and mood.  I was going for like a nostalgic summer love kinda thing. I had actually thought to use a song form the mid-90s because to really make it feel nostalgic and Shanice's "Saving Forever For You" was the winner for that but I decided it was not right for this. Maybe their actual first time, yes.  Then it was a toss up between "Honey Whiskey" by Satica and "Take Me Away" by Sinead Harnett/EARTHGANG and the latter won given the situation. I'd recommend giving it a listen below (or any of the songs listed) to get the mood I was going for while writing the sex scene. I really thank you for reading my ramblings if you've gotten this far. I just want to give the readers the best experience to my stories and how it was intended when I wrote it.

A loud commotion outside interrupts the moment and you both realize you need to get dressed before someone finds the both of you.  He pulls out of you and you both quickly get yourselves together. You hop into the bathroom inside the bedroom to clean yourself up. When you walk out, you see Jax sitting on the bed smoking a cigarette with all his clothes and hair in place, like he had been sitting there this whole time and didn't move from his spot when you first walked in.  He glances over to you and you're reminded of how his handsome charming face is something you miss so much.

"I should probably go before someone starts looking for either of us." You walk out of the bathroom and towards the front door.  Jax grabs your hand and pulls you back to him.

"Hey." He stands up, cups your face and looks at you. "It's really good to see you again."

Suddenly you both hear the door knob rattling and then a knock following it.

"Jax, are you in there, honey?" You both hear Gemma on the other side of the door. 

You both separate and smooth yourselves out and Jax walks over to open the door. 

"Honey, what are you doing in here? Tara--" Gemma's facial expression shifts when she spots you. She looks at the both of you suspiciously. You both thought you were so slick when you were younger but if there was anyone who knew what you both were up to, it would be Gemma. Nothing slips past her. In fact, she’s always secretly hoped you two would get together. You were born into SAMCRO, making you MC royalty. The Princess of Charming.

"Oh, I didn't know you were in here too. I'm very sorry about Opie, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, Gemma." You walk closer to the door and Gemma pulls you in for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's your fiancé?" Gemma asks curiously.

"Fiancé?" Jax glances over at you.

"I came by myself this time," you answer. "We're kind of on a break." You wrinkle your nose.

"I'm sorry to hear that too. Must be one hell of a break." Gemma's knowing eyes are boring a hole into you. "Lyla tells me you're staying a while?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna help her out with the kids for a week or so until she can figure it out.  I know you and the club will be a big help, but with everything going on, I think her and the kids can use another familiar face."

"Family is important and I'm very happy to see you here." Gemma's eyes shift to Jax with the same knowing look she gave you. "Well, whenever you're ready, Tara's looking for you."

"Thanks, mom." Jax runs his hand over the top of his hair. Gemma glances at you both again once more before she walks away.

You start making your way out the door when Jax pulls you back in.

"You're engaged?" Jax asks with wide eyes.

"Was," you reply. 

"Was it to that pretentious English prick you brought back with you last time?" Jax snarls.

"Ray is a good guy and he treats me really well. We're just going through a bit of a rough patch right now," you tell him. "Also, the last I heard, you're married with two children, Teller."

Jax just looks at you, knowing he has no right to be upset about you being with another man.

"And I believe your wife is looking for you," you say before walking away from him as you see your nephews and niece running up to you. "Hey guys!"

Jax takes a drag of his cigarette while he continues watching you as you kneel down to greet the kids.

A few days later...

The sun is beginning to set and Jax is at the clubhouse. Most of the people have already left. He needs some quiet and alone time after spending a few days earlier in the week not just watching his best friend get killed, but also saying goodbye and laying him to rest. He climbs up the ladder onto the roof of the clubhouse, one of his favorite places to think and reflect quietly while smoking.  What he didn't expect to find is someone else had beat him to the spot.

"I didn't know you were here," Jax says as he walks over and sits next to them. "You've been avoiding me like the plague all week."

"I miss watching the sunset," you reply without looking at him.

"The sun doesn't set where you are?" Jax asks as he lights up a joint.

"It's not the same."

Jax takes a long drag and then offers it to you. 

You look at it for a moment and form a small smile before taking it from him.  The roof was also a place you both frequented in your youth to smoke pot, away from your parents and the adults. Eventually they figured out your secret spot, but it didn't stop you guys from coming back. You take a pull and hand it back to him.

"I also miss this.  There is nothing like California-grown weed."

Jax takes a hit and blows out the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Do you ever miss me?" Jax looks over at you and passes the joint back to you.

You look over to him and squint an eye to prevent the sun from blinding you.

"Yeah, sometimes I do."

"Does your English weed taste like fucking tea and crumpets?" Jax jokes.

"Oh, I get the best shit there is over there. Trust me." You chuckle. "But... it's not home."

"So why don't you come home?" Jax looks back at you with the same squinty face.

You look at him for a moment deciding what you want to say. "You know, that's the reason why Ray and I put the engagement on hold. With everything happening here, I wanted to be closer to family. Figure my shit out." You take another drag and return the joint back to him.

"There's more than family that would love to see you back home too." Jax reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

"Jackson, what happened the other day, we both acted out of impulse. We were both just... vulnerable.  I'm sorry if it gave the wrong impression."

Jax shakes his head, then takes another long pull of the joint. “Ope was like my moral compass, kept me grounded and always pointed me in the right direction, and now he's gone, because of me."

"Jackson, you can't--" You start shaking your head.

"You’re the closest thing I have left of Ope. I need you." Jax holds your hand.

"Jackson, in your heart, you always knew what was best. You don't need me." You push a loose chunk of his blonde hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear.  "I know you're hurting, but I can't fill the void that Opie left. Nothing ever will. Just focus on what's important to you and you'll figure it out.  You always did." You smile at him while caressing his cheek with your thumb. "You got this." He closes his eyes and leans in to your hand, soaking in your touch.

"You still have too much faith me." He turns his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

"Yeah, maybe. Besides, our boat sailed a long time ago," you add, pulling your hands away from him and looking away. Jax takes the last drag of the joint and tosses it off the roof.

"Maybe that boat can make one last stop before sailing away for good?" Jax gently grabs your chin and turns your head to him to look into his slightly droopy eyes.

Even all this time, it's still hard to not get lost in his baby blues. It's even harder with the perfect setting: the firey orange sky, the slight California breeze, the clubhouse rooftop. Maybe it's the weed, but it feels perfect in the moment. It's all taking you back to the summer when you were 14, when the only care in your worlds were right in front of each other. It's also the perfect setting for cruising around. Jax use to "borrow" one of the bikes from the clubhouse and take you on joyrides, basking in the sun while the wind hits your faces.

He slowly leans into you, and you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. Jax immediately responds and kisses back, his tongue slipping between your teeth. You can taste whiskey mixed with a faint linger of cigarettes and marijuana. Jax cradles your neck and pulls you in closer to him.

The loud roar of a motorcycle driving by and backfiring breaks you up.  You both are brought back to reality that you are both still on a rooftop and a bit baked.

"Come on, let's get inside." Jax jerks his head towards the latch.  Jax helps you down the ladder first and he follows behind.  He quickly makes a sweep and doesn't see anyone except for a few guys at the bar with their back turned towards the both of you.  Jax grabs your hand and leads you back into the spare bedroom you both were in earlier in the week. This definitely feels like you both are hormone-driven teenagers again, sneaking around the clubhouse. 

Once Jax closes and locks the door, he turns his attention back to you but he stops in his tracks to really look at you. All of you. He never thought he'd ever be with you or see you like this again.  What happened the other day was different.  Like you said, it was a moment of weakness, an impulsive move on both of you because of shared pain.

This time, there is no urgency, there is no hurt, just the two of you re-living a moment the two of you wish you had the opportunity to experience over and over again. This time it's intentionally and purely for the most selfish reasons. He walks over to you and presses his lips onto yours, taking his time to actually taste and feel your soft lips on his.  He pulls you in close to his body as his hands explore yours.

As the both of you continue to deliberately and slowly make out, Jax grabs your ass and presses himself against you, feeling his erection through your clothes. Jax pushes you backward towards the bed and you fall back when you feel the edge hit the back of your knees. He falls on top of you and expertly starts disrobing you while making out with you.  In one quick swift, Jax pulls your shirt over your head, leaving you in a satin black bra.  He takes his time with you, starting with his lips on your neck, licking and kissing it, even nibbling at it.  He's always wanted to leave a hickey on you, letting all the guys know you're taken. He then makes his way down to your collar bone, the top of your chest and then pulls down your bra on one side to reveal a nipple.  He puts his mouth over it and swirls his tongue around it.  Jax looks up to see your reaction and find you looking back biting your lower lip. He smirks and pulls down the other side of your bra and gives that nipple the same attention, making you arch against his mouth. 

"Oh, Jackson," you moan.

He lets out a low growl.

"As much as I want to hear all the sexy noises coming out of your mouth while I'm pleasuring you, you gotta keep it quiet, darlin'." He kisses you while he unhooks your bra and tosses it aside. He then unbuttons your pants and backs himself off the bed. He slowly slides your pants and thong off your hips and down your legs. He licks his lips, excited to unwrap you like his present. You watch him as he lowers himself to his knees and kneels at your feet to help you with your boots and removes the rest of the clothes off your body.  Suddenly feeling a bit exposed and shy like it's your first time with Jax, you keep your legs together. Jax places his hands on each of your knees and coaxes them open. He looks at his gift and licks his lips.

He dives in between your legs while looking up at you. His soft lips and warm wet tongue are licking and sucking you on all the right places and his beard tickling your inner thighs.  That's new to you.  He barely had peach fuzz in his teens. You feel him slip a finger inside you as his lips are pulling at your clit.  Your breathing is getting shorter and more shallow.  Jax inserts another long finger in you and finds your g-spot, rubbing circles on it.

"Jax, I..." Feeling your orgasm building, you are rendered speechless. Jax continues sucking and stroking you until you come undone into his mouth and on his fingers. He watches you squirm and thrash as you scream quietly in ecstasy. He doesn't stop until you are sensitive to his touch and you push him away.  He wipes his beard and smiles at you, proud of his accomplishment. Jax surely still knows his way around your body.

You glance up to him as he gets to his feet.  You watch him strip his clothes off, first the kutte, then his shirt pulled over his head.  He kicks off his sneakers as he takes his time unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.  You're glad he's taking his time though because it allows you to soak up and remember every second you have with this gorgeous man in front of you.  He finally pulls his jeans and boxers down.  Besides from the other day, the last time you and him were this intimate, the both of you were shorter, slimmer and clearly less experienced.  Now you’re both grown, gained curves and muscles and are far more seasoned in the bedroom.  He's also certainly grown in other places as well.

"Back up," Jax nods his head as he climbs onto the bed and  hovers above you.  You scoot back so your whole body is on the bed.  Jax lays on top of you and smashes his lips against yours again, cradling your neck and grinding against you.  You can feel the head of cock teasing your opening.

"Maybe we should use a condom this time," you tell him in between kisses.

"I'm not gonna lie.  You did feel amazing without one the other day," Jax admits.

You and Jax had always been careful and taking the right steps when you were younger, using condoms at all times so that time was the first time you both had sex without one. Thankfully you are on birth control and both are STD-free, but you know you shouldn't take any chances.  

You give him a knowing look.

"Anything for you, darlin'." Jax gives you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to put on a condom.  He climbs back on top of you and looks at you as he caresses your face, still not believing that you're beneath him.

You gently grab his face with both hands and kiss him deeply. You then feel him slip inside you. All of him.  You moan into his mouth and move with him, both of your hips slowly thrusting in unison. Jax grabs your hands and brings them above your head. He intertwines his fingers with yours and thrusts deeper into you.  He watches you while you relish in the moment, as he pulls these lost emotions from you with each deliberate push.  You wrap your legs around his waist and it encourages him to pick up the pace.  You try to do the same and meet his rhythm.

Jax releases your hands and reaches for your legs behind him and brings them in front of him to rest on his shoulders, deepening his access to you.  His hand reaches up to cradle your neck as he pounds into you. You then feel his thumb slide over the front of your throat.  You start to feel his fingers tighten slightly around your neck. This is also new for you and Jax, but you're loving it.  You can feel yourself getting closer to achieving another orgasm.

"Jackson..." you pant.

"Come for me, darlin'.  I know you're there," Jax grunts.

You close your eyes and feel bliss as you let yourself go, letting your body take over you.  After your orgasm subsides, you open your eyes and find Jax is no longer making love to you, but just smiling at you while still inside you. Now it's time for you to show him a few tricks you've learned.

"Get on your back," you tell him.

Without any protest from Jax, you both switch positions.  Jax lies on his back with this hands behind his head, waiting for you to take the wheel.  You straddle him and take your time sinking yourself onto him.  You feel a lot more confident about being on top than you did when you were younger.  You were shy and inexperienced.  Now? You're going to ride him like the sexiest Harley you've ever had the privilege of sitting on. You slowly start riding him, rocking back and forth, grinding on him and teasing him. You enjoy the feeling of him filling you up to the hilt as you push down on him.

Jax looks up at you, watching you take charge and own his dick.  He definitely notices you're a lot more comfortable in this position than he remembers.  He reaches up and runs his hands over your breasts, massaging them and caressing your nipples as you enjoy the ride. He's certainly enjoying the view.

"You are still as fucking beautiful as the day I fell in love with you," Jax says, mesmerized by the image in front of him.

You smile and then lean back, placing your hands behind you on his thighs. Jax looks at you curiously. You roll your hips and start sliding up and down on him, giving him a clear view.  He looks down and watches himself disappear in and out of you.

Jax groans and runs the palms of his hands over your thighs and settles on your hips.  One of his hands then slides over between your legs and he starts rubbing circles on your clit with this thumb. You moan and gasp. You then lean forward, placing your hands on the pillow of each side of his head and lean down closer to him.  You start bouncing your ass up and down as you look down on him, your hair forming a curtain around your faces.  Jax grabs your ass and starts thrusting up to meet your movement. The only sounds echoing in the room are your pants and your bodies slapping against each other.  Jax speeds up and watches your face as it distorts.  He knows you've got another one inside you and you're very close.

"Come on, darlin'. Let it go." Jax coos.

You let out a loud moan as your legs shake and feel like a firecracker exploded inside of you.  Jax clamps a hand over your mouth as he continues to drill inside.

"There you go, Y/N." Jax smiles watching you fall apart on top of him.  He then swiftly flips you onto your back and roughly drives into you a few more times until he finally gets his own release.

As he slows down, you both look at each other, savoring the moment and then kiss softly.

Suddenly the door knob starts to rattle and the person on the other side is banging on the door.

"Yo, hurry it up! I gotta take a shit!" an unrecognizable voice shouts.

"Hey asshole, the bathroom is further down!" You both hear Chibs shouting. You place your hands over your mouth as you start to laugh.

"Shh!" Jax puts a finger over his pursed lips as he tries to suppress his own laughter.

SMASH CUT TO BLACK

A/N: I never put notes at the end but I figured I'd let you enjoy the fic first before mentioning I currently don't have plans to expand this story. I might in the future, but not in the near future.  I originally intended the first part to be short and be a one off, but I just kept writing and writing and there were so many places and opportunities to keep expanding. Same for part two.  There were so many directions I could have gone. I had a bit of struggle with this for some reason. It's not quite exactly how I pictured it ending but it works for what it is.

If you haven’t read it yet, I wrote two short scenes titled “Carry Me Home” and “Joyride” which are like flashbacks in this universe.

undefined

[artificialqueens]

💙 Counting Stars (Icethia) - Athena2

Summary: Icesis makes a cake for Pythia's birthday. Really short and sweet.

A/N: Hi everyone! I wanted to do another little prompt for the Pride challenge, so I did this short drabble for Domestic Fluff. It's set in my Icethia space au, which you can read here. Thank you so much to Juno for encouraging me to do this!

Icesis has never made a cake, but there’s a first time for everything.

She and Pythia had a long day exploring a sea planet yesterday, and Pythia is still asleep in the bottom bunk, curled up under the extra blanket Icesis always puts on them once they’re sleeping.

She had Kendall write down everything she needs to do, and Icesis is good at following instructions, so she should be able to do this. She once smuggled a crate of medical supplies right out from under a guard’s nose. Hell, she rescued Pythia from the biggest ship in the galaxy. A cake should be no problem.

Right?

She’s just lucky Pythia is a heavy sleeper, because the spoon floats away and hits a wall when the gravity stabilizer malfunctions, and then the bowls—she had to get more at a market just for this cake—keep clanging together, even when she tries to be quiet. Leave it to Pythia to turn her domestic—but Icesis will be the first to admit that the ship is more of a home with Pythia in it, helping her cook and watching the stars with her. And the cake is still a list, just like the ones she makes for smuggling jobs, and it’s easy to cross things off one by one as the cake goes from a pile of ingredients to something resembling a cake. It looks edible, at least, and Icesis is so focused on piping flowers—more supplies she’d had to get just for this; filling the empty drawers in the tiny kitchen—that she doesn’t even notice Pythia until they tell her good morning, and she jumps in her seat, dropping the frosting bag.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” they say sheepishly. “Wait, is that—is that for me?”

“Yeah.” Icesis leaps to her feet, wiping frosting off her hands and fixing her hair. She wanted to prepare something, but she took too long on the frosting. “I, uh, I’m not always great with words, as you know. But I know your birthdays always had to be formal and you hated them and just wanted a normal birthday with a normal cake, so I figured I’d do this and then we can explore for the day, or do nothing if you want to.”

Pythia is silent, and Icesis keeps rambling. “I made the cake with ingredients from different planets we’ve been to, so it’s like all of them in one. Half is covered in the stars because I know you like to look at them, and I know you liked those flowers from that forest planet so I tried to make them on the other half. They’re probably hideous, though.”

Pythia still hasn’t said anything, but now tears are running down their cheeks, and Icesis’s heart takes off. Pythia doesn’t cry much, so they must really hate it, and they’re crying because Icesis absolutely ruined their birthday and made it the worst one ever, even worse than the royal disasters Pythia told her about when they were drinking hot chocolate in the cockpit together.

“You don’t like it?” Icesis asks. “It’s okay if you don’t, I’ll just trash the whole thing—”

But Pythia shakes their head, grabbing Icesis’s hand. “Ice, I’m crying because I love it. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

“Oh,” Icesis mumbles, feeling like an idiot. The feeling goes away immediately, though, when Pythia crushes her in a hug. Icesis has gotten used to their hugs, but they still never stop feeling special. She never stops loving having Pythia this close to her, trusting her when they’ve never really trusted anyone. When Icesis herself has never really trusted anyone.

“I love you,” Pythia says.

They’re strange words to Icesis. She’s never heard them, never said them. But she kisses Pythia’s forehead and knows exactly what she needs to do. “I love you too.”

[emitheduck]

So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 8 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren’s brother did not outwardly react when Wen Ruohan announced what happened.

He merely stared, face as impassive as a stone washed clean by the river, his posture and position impeccable from the little glimpses Lan Qiren kept stealing of him – he was trying to keep his head ducked and his gaze firmly on the ground, trying to demonstrate penitence, but he couldn’t quite resist looking. He assumed that his brother’s seeming indifference was a mask for the rage he undoubtedly felt, seeing his little brother screw up what would have otherwise been a perfect discussion conference for the Lan sect.

It seemed like a reasonable conclusion, given that Lao Nie was taking up all the slack of reacting with rage without any such mask whatsoever.

“He’s little more than a child!” Lao Nie shouted.

“Little more, perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly. He was enjoying himself, Lan Qiren thought. “But regardless of how close or how far he is, he is adult enough.”

“He can’t marry or inherit –”

“He shed blood in a night-hunt, and that means he can swear oaths, which is all that’s relevant here. It isn’t as if I married him.”

“He’s sixteen! If someone removed sixteen years out of your life, Hanhan, you wouldn’t even notice the absence!”

“True, but irrelevant,” Wen Ruohan said. “And don’t call me that, Sect Leader Nie.”

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please, you little –”

“You are unharmed?” Lan Qiren’s brother asked Lan Qiren.

Lan Qiren, who’d been spectating the increasingly fraught back and forth between the two sect leaders, turned to look at him, surprised to be addressed.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “I only had a headache, and Sect Leader Wen took care of that.”

“You call me da-ge now,” Wen Ruohan reminded him, turning briefly away from his argument to do so. “Your oath, remember.”

“Does he even remember swearing the oaths?” Lao Nie hissed. “You know how these Lan drink – you and your damned need for control! Just because you can’t get it one way, you have to try another, is that it, Hanhan?”

“Sect Leader Nie, if you really find it impossible to be civil -” 

“If you are unharmed, then we can return to the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qiren’s brother said, ignoring them both. His voice was as distant and cold as a winter breeze, piercing and lifeless; it reminded Lan Qiren a little of his father, and he shivered. “We will determine the remainder at that time.”

“See?” Wen Ruohan said goadingly to Lao Nie, whose scowl only deepened. “If even his own sect doesn’t object to it –”

“They didn’t not object, they’re refraining from making a statement; it’s not the same thing. ‘Even ten years isn’t too late for a gentleman to get revenge’ – !”

“I should like to see them try.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden sense of relief, heralded by a bright and abrupt clarity: of course Wen Ruohan hadn’t sworn brotherhood with him on his behalf! He’d only done it because he’d seen Lan Qiren together with Lao Nie, found that the sight offended his vision, and immediately decided to disrupt it. Never mind that Lao Nie didn’t have any intentions beyond the casual mentorship of any older cultivator to a junior – Wen Ruohan was well known for his paranoia, his irritability, his tendency to seize on crazy ideas. And, of course, there was his jealousy, a trait to which he had himself admitted…

A treasure sword used to prop up a table, indeed. It wasn’t about Lan Qiren's merits or the Lan sect’s supposed failings at all. The only table Wen Ruohan was concerned with was Lao Nie’s!

(And that certainly did explain the whole bizarre ‘Hanhan’ thing better than any other hypothesis Lan Qiren had come up with.)

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure it was better, exactly, to be a pawn in a strange game between sect leaders, but it was at least more familiar. As a younger son of a politically minded Great Sect, he was more like a daughter; being used for some scheme by the adults around him had always been his destiny, barring some tragedy or especially indulgent parents – the former was unlikely, the latter he lacked – and so his fate was set.

Of course, it would have been better not to be in a game involving Wen Ruohan at all, but he supposed that there were worse options.

After all, if Wen Ruohan’s primary interest was in tormenting Lao Nie, he probably wouldn’t demand Lan Qiren’s presence in the Nightless City all that often – probably just enough to show that he could – and Lan Qiren would be allowed to continue with his plans for his future. It might even turn out to be something of a benefit. After all, a musician with limited martial skills, traveling all alone, could always use strong friends that were nearby, and the Wen sect’s reach far exceeded that of the Lan sect…

Anyway, comparatively, Lan Qiren disliked far more the idea of being stuck in the Jin sect with its inexplicable devotion to worldly affairs (and when it came to Jin Guangshan, word was that that usually meant literal affairs…), and he would have undoubtedly gone utterly mad in the Jiang sect, with its emphasis on freedom and lack of any rules to explain anything. And of course, regrettably, the Nie sect wouldn't have done such a thing to begin with, secretive as they were...

No, it wouldn’t be so bad, Lan Qiren tried to convince himself. It wouldn’t be so bad at all.

The illusion lasted exactly as long as it took for the leaders of the five Great Sects to retreat to finalize their discussions on business – with Sect Leader Jiang and Jin stepping up to keep Sect Leaders Wen and Nie from each other’s throats, even as Lan Qiren’s brother ignored them all – and Lan Qiren returned to his proper place among the other Lan sect disciples.

“Did he really put you in the Fire Palace until you agreed?” one of them asked, then was promptly elbowed by at least three of his fellows – it was poor Lan Yueheng that had asked, naturally; he was extraordinarily good at mathematics and extraordinarily bad at just about everything else, including both tact and following the Lan sect rules. Lan Qiren had gotten on quite well with him in the past, each one happy to have an audience to listen to their rambling without caring too much if the other side was really listening, but Lan Yueheng was Lan Ganhui’s mother’s sister’s son, the two of them raised together like brothers, and in recent years the latter had a habit of restricting the former from spending too much time with Lan Qiren, the favorite subject of his mockery.

“No,” Lan Qiren said stiffly, and turned his face away in sudden upset. He had almost managed to forget that his new sworn brother was reputed to enjoy spending his free time torturing people, enough so that he had an entire prison devoted to it.

The older brother guided, the younger brother obeyed – what was Lan Qiren supposed to learn from Wen Ruohan? How to be cruel and pitiless, how to hurt people, how to increase his cultivation by doing all manner of dirty things?

Even if he didn’t learn such things, wouldn’t people assume it of him anyway?

“But I heard –” Lan Yueheng persisted, then hissed when someone stepped on his foot.

“No,” Lan Qiren said, stronger this time. “Do not speak behind the backs of others, Yueheng-xiong.”

“Oh. Right.”

Someone muttered killjoy under their breath, but that wasn’t exactly new; his brother thought he was one, and he was popular, so others often followed his lead - and anyway, perhaps he was. At any rate, they all stood around in awkward silence for a little while before someone decided to recount one of the incidents in the main event competition once again, their voice a little over-loud in the silence, and a perfectly anodyne conversation about Qingheng-jun’s performance started up in earnest to cover over all the things they did not say.

That, too, was not new.

Truly, life would be easier if everyone would just listen to the rules, Lan Qiren thought wistfully. The nice written-down ones, just those, and never mind about all the unspoken ones, the ones that everyone seemed to intuitively understand except for him – he tried his best to learn those, too, and to extrapolate from one situation to another, but unspoken rules seemed as changeable as a puff of cloud. It was simply impossible.

In the end, the sect leaders finished up their business and each of them took their leave from the Nightless City, just the way that always happened. Before he went, Lao Nie put his hand on Lan Qiren’s shoulder and said, “Write to me if you ever need anything at all,” while glaring at Wen Ruohan, who smirked back; Lan Qiren’s brother did not glance at either of them and merely walked off, his hands behind his back and his posture straight and tall as a tree. The other two Great Sect leaders, Jin and Jiang, exchanged glances of their own and headed off their own way without a word, choosing, quite prudently, not to get involved.

Lan Qiren saluted to Lao Nie and, slightly more hesitantly, to Wen Ruohan, then followed after his brother. To his relief, Wen Ruohan didn’t stop him, only watched him go, his eyes glittering malevolently - his gaze a palpable weight. It wasn’t quite like the first few times they’d met, where the pressure almost felt like the other man was exerting power on him; rather, Lan Qiren suspected, the weight he was feeling was only the weight of all the new expectations that had fallen onto his shoulders as a result of his new brotherhood. 

The ride home was excruciatingly awkward.

It was not a short journey, and Lan Qiren did not speak to his brother once the entire time by mutual unspoken agreement. He might not have noticed such a thing normally, but his brother’s usually cool aura was positively frigid, driving Lan Qiren to silence even when he might have otherwise spoken on mundane matters such as the weather or travel conditions.

Lan Qiren even suspected that if he had dared to try, his brother might have used the muting spell on him.

Naturally, the other disciples followed his brother’s lead – poor Lan Yueheng looked especially torn up over it, and at one point Lan Qiren found a book on abstruse geometry hidden under his pillow in what was probably a well-meaning gesture of solidarity – and Lan Qiren was stuck in that uncomfortable place where he finally had the peace and solitude he often longed for when stuck in a crowd while also simultaneously feeling awful about it, struck with a sudden desire for the company of his family, however cold it might be.

When at last they returned home in the late afternoon, Lan Qiren knew from experience what to do next: he went straight to the hanshi, where his father was waiting for their report, and knelt in penance outside. If the trip had gone well, he would have helped his brother settle the final matters relating to their trip – putting back anything borrowed from the sect’s stores, registering everyone as having arrived with no one lost on the way, that sort of thing – but since it hadn’t, his duties were limited to…well, this.

It was unpleasant, but then, it was supposed to be.

He waited for over a shichen in unmoving silence. The remainder of the sect tiptoed around him, with the disciples that had remained behind sending him sympathetic looks that suggested that they didn’t know exactly what had happened but were burning with curiosity to find out.

It was already dark by the time his brother arrived.

When he did so, he walked right by Lan Qiren without looking and went inside.

There was no written rule against eavesdropping, although there were several unspoken rules about it that were sometimes but not always applicable, but even when (guiltily) straining his ears to the utmost, Lan Qiren could only hear the vaguest murmur of voices within.

It was only after some time – towards the end of his brother’s report, no doubt – that there was a brief uptick, a surprised exclamation (possibly “what?!”, although Lan Qiren’s father was soft-spoken enough that even an exclamation was too muffled to be properly audible), and Lan Qiren braced himself.

After a little longer, the door to the hanshi opened.

“Qiren,” his father’s voice drifted out. “Enter.”

Lan Qiren got up, a little unsteady from all the kneeling, straightened himself out and walked inside, his hands folded behind his back. He would have knelt again, but his father waved for him to keep standing, frowning thoughtfully at him as his brother drank the tea they had been sharing.

“You swore an oath of brotherhood with Sect Leader Wen?” his father asked, his face frustratingly neutral.

Lan Qiren nodded, then amended: “I do not remember doing so. He offered me a toast, and would not allow me to reject it, and then the next morning, he informed me that we had sworn an oath together and showed me the written version of the oath.”

The paper in question was laid out on the table in front of his father. Lan Qiren’s brother had confiscated it after Wen Ruohan had showed it to him, and Lan Qiren hadn’t figured out a way to ask to see it, though he desperately wanted to know whether they had sworn one of the classical brotherhood oaths or if they’d added their own clauses. It seemed like a thing Wen Ruohan would do, yet the idea had only belatedly occurred to Lan Qiren, which meant he hadn’t properly examined the oath while he’d had the chance.

His father hummed thoughtfully.

“There’s no reason to doubt Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren’s brother opined. “He is meticulous in his schemes. Even if there were, the announcement was public; I would not have our clan be known as oath-breakers.”

“Public and unrefuted,” Lan Qiren’s father said, and Lan Qiren blinked because he almost sounded disapproving – but his father never disapproved of anything his brother did, as far as he knew. “Still, you are not wrong. There are few more decisive than Sect Leader Wen. Once he settled on his course, he would not leave such a gap through which one could retreat, not even for himself…Qiren.”

Lan Qiren straightened.

“You were unharmed?”

He blinked at the unexpected question, the same his brother had posed.

“I only had a headache,” he said hesitantly, vaguely aware from the way his father looked at him and his brother did as well that his answer was not what they were expecting. “From the liquor. Nothing else.”

“Did anything else hurt?” his father pressed. “Your body?”

Lan Qiren thought back. “My upper arms,” he said, remembering. He’d thought it was from the uncomfortable bed. “And my right knee. They were a little bruised, I think, but it went away after Sect Leader Wen shared spiritual energy with me.”

His father frowned and twisted his fingers in a gesture; an array opened beneath Lan Qiren’s feet, and the places he had mentioned, as well as his palms and forehead, began to glow.

The marks on his arms, glowing with the pale echoes of Wen Ruohan’s qi, were in the shape of hands.

(Wen Ruohan had commented on Lan Qiren’s enthusiastic telling of the Lan sect rules while intoxicated, to the point of seeking to hold him down as an unwilling audience. Had Wen Ruohan had to physically restrain him from causing trouble as well?)

“The disgrace was minimal, then,” his brother remarked, and when their father said nothing but dismissed the spell Lan Qiren abruptly realized that they were trying to figure out if he had, in fact, been deflowered, just as Wen Ruohan had teasingly hinted that night. He had not shared with anyone that he had woken up in Wen Ruohan’s bed, too mortified to do so, and now that the suggestion had been seriously raised, he was even more determined never to do so. “Not that that will help the rumors.”

Lan Qiren hadn’t thought – surely people wouldn’t think – wouldn’t assume –

Wen Ruohan had no reputation for liking young boys. He wasn’t even known to cut his sleeve!

(Lan Qiren didn’t know what he himself liked. He’d thought he’d have more time to figure it out.)

“We do not guide our sect according to rumors.”

His brother put down his teacup with a little more force than necessary. “Is it the sale or the price that you object to, Father?” he asked, voice far sharper than it should be when speaking to an elder, least of all their father. “See what I have accomplished for our sect, and without even the official authority of being vested as sect leader! It is just as you taught me! Am I to flinch simply because he shares my blood?”

“It is not what is taken,” their father responded, his voice a little sharper than usual as well, but not by much; he might as well have been commenting disapprovingly on an unfortunate turn in the weather. “But that it is Wen Ruohan who takes. His greed knows no boundaries, his recklessness grows by the year – today Qiren is unharmed and your plans may proceed, but what of tomorrow?”

“Have you thought of any better use to put him to? His role is to serve the sect!”

“As a disciple of the Lan sect,” their father said. His tone was still mild, but his voice was icy enough to make Lan Qiren shiver in a confused sort of fear that he did not quite understand. “Not as a plaything for Wen Ruohan.”

By all rights, Lan Qiren’s brother ought to now kneel and beg forgiveness from his elder, his sect leader, his father, but instead he only shook his head. “An oath of brotherhood goes both ways,” he reminded their father, speaking to him as if they were equals. “Sect Leader Wen announced to the world that he swore an oath with a child – does that not also mean that responsibility for his safety and wellbeing falls equally on his shoulders? Any harm to him stains Sect Leader Wen’s name as much if not more than ours.”

“Are we to let outsiders educate our children, then?”

“One cannot compare a foolish younger son to a brother, voluntarily chosen. He chose it, not us; everyone knows this. Any mistakes Qiren makes will fall heavier on his shoulders.”

Their father frowned deeply enough to carve additional lines into his prematurely aged face. “You plan to use Qiren as a lever, then, and extract concessions for every slight.”

His brother shrugged, almost careless in his arrogance. “If Sect Leader Wen chooses to give me such a handle over him, am I meant to refuse? For all his clever schemes, he is also known to be moody and impulsive, easily lured into rashness…I see an opportunity here, not a trap. You chose to give me responsibility early, to have me help you make our sect stronger, greater; that is what I was born to do. You gave me power and I have done well with it, done exactly what you’ve asked me to do. I’ve made you proud - haven’t I?”

“But what of the risk that Wen Ruohan might ignore public opinion and harm Qiren regardless?” his father pressed, not answering. It wasn’t really necessary, of course; he was always proud of Lan Qiren’s brother, no matter what he did - his eldest son was his treasure, the only thing he cared for; it was as fact as undeniable as the direction in which the sun rose each morning. “The Lan sect does not buy riches with blood.”

“I have thought it over, Father,” his brother said quietly. “It is only a risk that he might be harmed, not a guarantee; it’s not as if I am sending Qiren to the Fire Palace myself. And there is the hope here, not of riches, but of glory for the sect –”

“Glory for the sect?” their father asked, voice rich with meaning Lan Qiren did not understand. “Or for yourself?”

“Are they not one and the same?” Lan Qiren’s brother was unmoved. “In the future, it will be mine, and so there is no difference - whatever you say now, that is what you have always shown me. Besides, Qiren will agree.”

Lan Qiren did not take a step backwards when they turned to look at him, though he dearly wanted to. His hands were still behind his back, gripped tight enough to hurt; he suspected when he looked later on he would find blood beneath his fingernails, dug in deep into his flesh.

“Well?” their father asked of him, though his gaze settled somewhere above Lan Qiren’s head as it always seemed to, as different as night and day from the tender and forgiving looks he gave his eldest son even in the midst of their argument. His voice was so cold that Lan Qiren could feel it against his skin like the bitter winter wind. “What do you say?”

Is it the sale or the price that you object to?

It’s not what is taken, but that it is Wen Ruohan who takes.

Have you thought of any better use to put him to?

His role is to serve the sect.

“I do not see what choice there is,” he said dully, his eyes focused on his father’s face just as his father’s refused to focus on his, foolishly still looking for the affection he knew he would likely never find. In his father’s mind, he had only one son – even his objections on Lan Qiren’s behalf, however mild, were nothing more than what he would have said on behalf of any Lan sect disciple. Even Lan Qiren, foolish and bad at people as he was, could see that his father’s primary concern over the approach his brother had suggested was its potential impact on the reputation of his brother and his sect. “I swore an oath. Even if I do not remember it, as a matter of personal honor, I will not allow myself to be foresworn.”

“There,” his brother said, his voice rich in satisfaction. “You see? The choice is made. It is only what we do with it now that matters.”

Lan Qiren bit his lower lip to keep himself from doing something stupid, like asking do either of you care about me at all.

“Very well,” their father said indifferently. “Then it will be as you say. Qiren.”

“Father.”

“You will spend the night kneeling in the ancestral hall to consider the consequences of violating the prohibition against alcohol and the injunction to maintain your discipline. In view of the circumstances, no other punishment will be imposed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Dismissed.”

As Lan Qiren left, he heard his father ask his brother to tell him about the riding competition.

He did not ask about music.

[nishisun]

DORM BUDDIES

12. what the ✨fawk✨ 😀

summary: you’re in need of a new dorm buddy because your current roommate sucks and tsukishima might just be the perfect candidate.

DORM BUDDIES MASTERLIST

warnings: smut 🙄, bokuto’s a jerk in this one.

Once you arrived at akaashi and bokuto’s shared dorm, Bokuto happily greeted you with a hug.

“Hey bo, how are you?” you said, still not breaking the hug because bokuto was hugging you tightly.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck and didn’t say anything for a while, so you both just stood there for some moments in silence as bokuto refused to let go. You let him because you found it cute how clingy he was.

“I’m good,” he mumbled, his breath tickling the skin of your neck. “just missed you, is all.”

without breaking the hug, he moved his hands that were on the back of your waist and slid them right beneath your ass. He began to softly rub the back of your thigh, all while the entrance door was still open.

When you didn’t move his hand away he took that as an okay to continue. He began to kiss your neck softly, getting a soft moan out of you.

“Bo,” you said softly, trying to warn bokuto that the door was still wide open and anyone could see.

He doesn’t respond, instead he taps your thigh softly, signaling you to jump and carries you to his room.

The place was quiet, so that probably meant that akaashi wasn’t at home.

Bokuto closed the door and pushed you against the wall and pulled you in for a needy kiss, tongues tangling with one another. The kiss was rough, really rough, but you didn’t mind because it’s been so long since you and Bokuto have done this.

This whole situation was escalating so quickly that you forgot why Bokuto called you over.

He placed you softly on the bed and pulled the leggings you were wearing, as well as your panties.

“fuck, so wet,” he kneeled down, then used his thumb to capture your slick and softly glided it against your clit. He blew softly at your pussy getting a whimper out of you.

“How is your dumbass already so wet. This all for me?” He then went in and licked your pussy and any normal person wouldn’t have noticed. In fact, his tounge barely managed to touch it, but you were so sensitive, you could feel the the way the wet muscle captured your juices and you arched your back.

“stop teasing you dickhead,” is all you managed to say. You started to squirm, which made Bokuto laugh at your neediness. He decided to shove one finger in your hole, but didn’t thrust.

“now why should I listen to you?” he said. He waited for you to say something, anything, but as soon as you managed to speak up he shoved another finger, thrusting at an extremely fast pace.

“flirting with tsukishima like that,” he continued to thrust, but this time he thrusting into you slow and hard. “you know i get.”

You tried to respond but the pleasure was way too overwhelming. What did he mean by flirting with tsukishima? Your mind was blurred and you couldn’t really care for what he was rambling about, even though he knew you liked to joke around but flirting? He kept thrusting, his pace getting quicker each second, but this time you didn’t feel pleasure. He was going way too fast and hard.

you felt pain?

“Ah, bo,” you patted his forearm trying to tell him to stop but his grip on your thighs tighten. “Bokuto, ow! Stop!”

The pain felt so unusual. it was weird. this whole situation was weird. Why did bokuto randomly call you over for this? What got him so riled up? You looked up to see Bokuto, who looked like he was in a world of his own, not even aware that he was hurting you. You lifted yourself up and tapped his shoulder trying to snap him out of his haze.

“Bokuto, are you okay?” You asked, hand resting on his shoulder.

“Fuck y/n, I’m so sorry, I didnt even notice what-”

“Hey, Hey. It’s fine, you dumbass.” You teased, giving him a reassuring smile. He smiled back softly, but it was obviously a fake one. Something was up with him. He was acting very strange.

“Bokuto what’s wrong,” you asked, “you’ve been acting weird and I’m concerned. Is there something bothering you?”

He looked down for a moment before you look up at you and didn’t say anything. He used the thumb that was covered with your wetness to softly rub the area.

“You’ve always been so caring.” he said, letting out a small sigh.

“Shut up, you’re so cheesy.” You laughed at and he pouted a bit, which only made you giggle in response.

“I was trying to set the mood again.” He said crossing his arms.

“Well too late for that,” you said, getting up and giving his cheek a little pat before wearing your panties and leggings.

“You’re no fun,” he said looking at you dress up again.

“Yeah, yeah, you say that all the time.” This time both of you let out a small laugh as you picked up your things.

“Uh bo,” you said.

“yeah?”

“Do you want me to do something about.. that?” You pointed at the tent that was formed in his grey sweatpants.

“I’ll fix it, it’s getting late anyways you should go.” He said as he laughed nervously.

“wait but didn’t you want to talk about something-”

“I’ll just text you, you really need to go now, bye, love you y/n!” He said guiding you to the door, basically pushing you the way there.

God, he was acting so strange, you thought to yourself.

AYOOO sorry i didn’t post in over a week 😔 but i already have part 13 made for y’all 😁😁🙏

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[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 16: 6PM Walks

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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“What did you call me a while ago?” Kiyoomi asks Kia, not listening to what you��re saying.

“Kiyoomi, this isn’t our issue right now.”

“No, it is. She has to call me that again.”

“She won’t.”

“She will. She did it a while ago.”

“Kia’s probably playing with you,” you mumble to yourself, but you leave the two of them to continue making breakfast before the whole fiasco. You figure that Sakusa is too excited being called papa that he won’t listen to anything you will say at the moment.

“Kia say it again. What you called me a while ago,” Kiyoomi asks Kia. They are on the couch in the living room, Kia’s eyes stuck on the television screen. She ignores Kiyoomi. He takes the remote and turns the TV off. The little girl looks at him in disapproval. “Say it again and I will turn the TV on.”

“What?” Kia asks, obviously not hearing Kiyoomi’s pleads a while back.

“What did you call me a while ago?” Kiyoomi pushes, his eyes piercing through hers, begging.

“Kyo,” Kia deadpans.

Kiyoomi pouts, turning the TV back on. He leaves Kia on the couch, then goes to you at kitchen. You don’t notice him so he just leans his back on the counter, admiring you from behind. You looked so cute with his shirt and boxers on, the apron you’re wearing is the cherry on top. He’s trying his best not to jump on you especially that Kia is just there.

You, on the other hand, are slicing the apples, Saki in your mind. “That fucking bitch,” you mutter, slicing rougher than needed. “She better not show up here again.”

“Have mercy on the apples,” Kiyoomi chuckles. He wraps his arms around your waist, his chin on top of your head. You continue to slice, Kiyoomi carefully watching your hands. “Where’s the ring I gave you?”

“It’s in my bag. I took it off when we were in Universals since it was slipping off my finger. I was scared I’d lose it,” you reply. His hug feels comforting so you slow down in slicing. “Have you given up on Kia calling you papa?”

“No,” he huffs, his chin now on your shoulder. You giggle at his determination. “You’re probably shocked about what happened.”

“Didn’t know your fuck buddy was psycho,” you respond. He starts leaving small kisses on your exposed neck, so you put the knife down and turn to him. “Kiyoomi, why are you so touchy today?”

“What do you mean? I was also touchy yesterday,” he corrects you. His hands intertwine with yours as he brings it close to his. He gives all your fingers soft kisses, completely calming you down. “You seem so stressed. You should get a massage or something.”

“That sounds nice.” You smile at the thought of simply relaxing. Ever since you had given birth to Kia, time for yourself was impossible.

“Then take a day off from being a mom today,” Kiyoomi mumbles, planting a kiss on your forehead. You look up to him in confusion. “I’ll drop you off at the mall. I actually booked you an appointment at a salon and spa a week ago.” You stare at him in suspicion but he seems solely genuine about wanting you to relax.

“What about Kia?” You ask hesitantly.

“I’ll take good care of her,” he responds. “Get changed. I’ll continue making breakfast.”

After eating breakfast with Kiyoomi and Kia, they send you off to the mall. You are so excited to relax. “Me time” is rare as a mother. You shall cherish it without questions on how and why you got to do it.

As you left the car, Kia and Kiyoomi drive to another street in the city of Osaka. They leave the car, and go to a small cafe that doesn’t have a lot of customers. A woman waves at him and he goes to where she’s seated.

“Kyo who’s that?”

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You finish your appointments at around 5:30 PM. Kiyoomi really wanted you to relax. He had appointed a full body massage for you, a hair treatment appointment, manicure and pedicure and lunch at a 4-star sushi place; he’s spoiling you.

You see his car at the driveway outside the mall. You enter his car, then you sanitize your hands. Kia is asleep so you keep quiet. You take a look at him and he looks nervous.

“Are you okay?” You ask him and he nods. You eye him warily as he starts driving off without a word. “What did the two of you do today?”

“We went to a cafe, then met up with my nutritionist. Kia is also gave him a checkup. Apparently, Kia is taller than most of her peers. She’s 8 centimeters away from 100cm and she’s only 30 months old...” Kiyoomi states in a stressed manner.

“Are you afraid she’ll get bullied by other kids for her height?” You look at him and he seemed upset about it. “On the brighter side, with her height she can be a volleyball player like you.” You reassure him, he still looks like he’s on the edge.

“It’s the flower field Kia and I went to a while ago. Do you wanna take a walk?” He suddenly suggests, looking out the window of his car. You hum as a yes, then he parks his car somewhere near the flower field.

“Baby...” You coo at Kia, taking her seatbelt off. Her eyes slowly flutter open and she smiles when she sees you. You lift her off her chair then close the car’s door.

You look around, and notice that there aren’t a lot of people. No wonder why Kiyoomi wanted to take a walk. The place is peaceful and breathtaking. Rows of different kinds of flowers, but mostly roses and tulips. You look down to Kia and see that she is staring at the sun setting over the flower field.

You finally sense Kiyoomi beside you, but the energy he’s giving is off. You take a glance at him and he isn’t wearing his mask on. Now your suspicion has risen to the highest level. You want to ask him about it but Kia suddenly wriggles out of your hold. You run after her but stop when you see two familiar boys.

“Mu-chan! Ki-chan!” She squeals in excitement, running towards the said boys. You greet them with a wave as they are standing from a far. You watch Kia run to them before walking towards them too.

“Mama! Turn around!” Kia shouts but you don’t hear properly.

“Turn! Around!” Atsumu shouts this time, signaling you turn with his hand. You raise an eyebrow at them before turning around.

3rd Year, Itachiyama Academy

August 19

“Omi... I suddenly thought of something,” you spoke, watching the sunset. You two were at his backyard, enjoying your first anniversary in the comfort of his home. “How will you propose to me?”

“Are you really thinking about marriage just because we’ve been dating for a year now?” Sakusa squinted his eyes at you. You shrugged, leaning on his shoulder.

“I’m just curious since you hate surprises. You might tell me to get my nails done a week before so it’d look good in pictures,” you joked. He let out a chuckle in agreement.

“I might do that.” He saw the excitement in your eyes. Now, he’s curious about your dream proposal. “How do you want me to propose? Do you want a grand one or a simple one?”

“I want you to propose just like this,” you replied, eyes glued on the setting sun. “You, me, on our anniversary, with the sun setting.”

“Do I have to be on my knee? The ground might be dirty,” he rambled so you pouted.

“How is it a proposal if you don’t go on one bended knee?!”

“Then I’ll do that,” he replied, determined. There was no hesitance in his response so your heart beat faster.

“Really?” You asked, hopeful. You were now looking at him and so was he.

“Yes.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, why?!” You exclaim as you cover your face with your hands, tears already falling from your eyes.

The Sakusa Kiyoomi who well known as a germaphobe is on his knee in front you, with a ring in his hand. You check your phone to see the date, just to make sure. August 19. You cry even harder, not able to process what’s happening. Your heart is about to jump out of your chest. How does he remember even that?

“Will you marry me?”

Unable to answer due to too much emotions, you pull him up and kiss him deeply, hooking your arm on his neck, pulling him close to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up the ground in excitement. He puts you back on the ground, then gives you another chaste kiss before slipping the ring in your ring finger. He gives it a kiss, before kissing you once more.

“Mama!” You hear Kia run to the two you. Kiyoomi lifts Kia with one arm, his other arm not leaving you. “Look! Kyo proposed to me too!”

“Kyo who’s that?” Kia asked as she and Kiyoomi sat in the same table with a strange woman.

“Is this your daughter?” The woman asked Sakusa. He nodded. Kia was still looking at her weirdly. “Hi, I’m Nako. I’m a jewelry maker. I make necklaces, bracelets, and rings. Do you wanna see?”

“Sorry, I’m late,” a familiar voice spoke, catching Kia’s full atention.

“Mu-chan!” Kia greeted him with a kiss. He sat down beside her, greeting Nako and his teammate with a smile and wave. Nako was Atsumu’s classmate in high school that has become a famous jeweler in Japan.

“Here’s the ring and necklace you have requested to custom made,” Nako told Kiyoomi, handing him two black velvet boxes. “Just as requested, a palladium engagement ring with a 2.4 carat round cut diamond. And in this box we have a 14k white gold ring attached to a 14k white gold chain. I also made sure that this won’t choke your daughter. But to be extra careful, take it off during her sleep or if she’s playing without you or your wife around.”

They finished their transaction and Nako left, leaving the boys with Kia in the cafe. “So we’ll wait for at the flower field near your house and Kia will run to us, then you’ll propose?” Atsumu clarified.

“Yes. That’s right,” Kiyoomi approved. “Please thank Kita-san for me.”

“I will. I will. We’ll meet you there.” Atsumu bid his good byes, leaving the father-daughter duo.

“Papa what’s the rings for?” Kia asked, staring at the shiny jewelry set in front of her.

“Baby, I’ll propose to your mama,” Kiyoomi started to explain. “I’ll give her this ring so we can get married and we’ll be together forever.” He tried to explain in simpler words so the child could understand.

“Why do you want to be with mama forever?” Kia questioned, which made Kiyoomi smile.

“Because I love your mama.”

“How about Kia? Do you love Kia?” Kia tilted her head to the side, her hopeful eyes peering at his. He cupped her cheek, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“So much. I love Kia so much,” he replied. “That’s why I’m giving you this.” Kiyoomi took the necklace out of the box, presenting it to her.

“You’re proposing to Kia?” She asked in an excited manner, her hands clasped together, pressing them close to her chest. “You wanna be together with Kia forever?”

Kia started crying in joy so Kiyoomi picked her up from her chair, giving her a tight hug. Her sobs quiet down so Kiyoomi put the necklace on her. She hugs him again, giving him a lot of kisses.

“I love papa, too.”

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

Facts:

The idea and tradition of engagement rings dates back to ancient Egypt. The Egyptians believed circles were symbols of eternity.

The truth is the most popular engagement month in a year is December. 

In all, about 70% of brides wear their rings on the fourth finger of their left hand; a tradition that comes from the Roman belief that the vena amoris, or vein of love, was located there.

Wedding rings were traditionally made of gold because it was considered the most pure and valuable metal, and was thought to perfectly symbolize marriage.

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[sageinacage]

Pog :0 Based around the stream where they did a pvp - Boomer getting tired of losing so he wrecks Punz in hopes of getting a second win?

I hope that you’re doing well and have a great day/night!

Endurance Training summary: boomer wants to knock his cocky friend punz down a peg during their pvp training. a/n: i hope its okay i kinda derailed from the original prompt D: its still them and still in a similar setting but its just boomer being a cocky ass instead LOL warnings: swearing, lighthearted mocking (?), describing a fight in minecraft kinda LOL w/c: 1.4k IG, Platonic

~

“Haaa, I’m so good at this.” Punz stretched his arms over his head after yet another victory, shooting a shit-eating grin at his friend. “Isn’t that right, Boomer?”

Boomer fixed his frog hat, and let out an annoyed huff as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re just lucky, dumbass.” He spat back, grumbling something snarky to himself as he straightened out the light training armor equipped on him.

“I don’t think there’s anything lucky going on with you falling on your ass. Multiple times.”

“That’s because you tripped me, you asshole!”

“Oh, boohoo.”

Boomer opened his mouth to say something sassy back at his friend, but decided not to as Punz is definitely someone who could match his level of wits and he knew that. Instead, he let out an exaggerated groan and picked up his training sword, standing on the opposite side of the arena from Punz.

“Ready for round… uh… three? four? Definitely a number.” Punz rubbed the back of his head as he let out a few chuckles, composing himself after a few seconds and holding his sword and shield steadily. “Born ready, baby!” Boomer tried to jest, his goal being to distract Punz in any way he could.

Punz gave the man in the frog hat a confused eyebrow raise, rolling his eyes and beginning to approach him. “Punz, you do not want to come over here!” Boomer sang in a slightly worried tone, backing up and nervously skipping to the side. “Oh, but I really do, Boomer! C’mon, don’t be shy!” Punz sneered, his speed picking up a bit as Boomer let out a high-pitched giggle and ran off.

The man chuckled as his friend’s nervous giggles, shaking his head before equipping the fishing rod from his inventory, reeling Boomer in by the hood of his hoodie. “No!” He screeched, unhooking himself and skipping away again. “You slippery frog!” Punz exclaimed, continuing the chase.

The round ended like normal, some half-assed fight from Boomer then getting absolutely whooped after. “Boomer, c’mon! You gotta try harder than that!” Punz urged, trying to pull the sulking man up from the ground.

“Hm.” He hummed, his whole body going limp as his friend tried to lift him off the ground. “Don’t be a baby, bud.” Punz laughed, eventually just gently dropping him back down. “Am I just too good that you don’t wanna try again?” He chuckled, a smirk painting his features.

“No, I’m just thinking.”

“About…?”

“How to knock you down a peg or two- then I’d put the effort into fighting you.” Boomer grinned widely, a grin that Punz definitely did not trust. “How would you be able to knock me down if you won’t even fight me for real?” He crossed his arms, slightly tilting his head.

Boomer stood up, making the blonde take a small step back.

“I don’t like that look you’re giving me-”

“I remember a little something about you, Punz.”

“Boomer…”

“I remember you had a little… weakness… yeah. A weakness.” Boomer chuckled lowly, taking a step towards Punz. Punz squinted his eyes, trying to seem intimidating but took another step back as the white-haired man took another one forward.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Punz rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip. “I think you do, Punz! It’s probably why you’re blushing right now.”

“I am n- not! My cheeks are red out of anger. Yeah, that’s why.” He looked down, avoiding eye contact with the other. “Yeah? Out of anger, Punz? Totally not because you know I’m about to tickle you, and you can’t do anything about it. Y’know, how about we look at this like endurance training- you did originally ask me to train with you to improve, yeah?” Boomer continued as he kept slowly walking at Punz, until he got close to him.

“I’m- I’m n- not… ticklish?”

“Sure you aren’t, pal.” Boomer sneered before tackling his friend onto the grass, rolling around as he wrestled with him to get the upper hand. Eventually, the ‘CEO of Bedwars’ got the blonde pinned under him, but not after a good wrestle.

“Gotcha.” Boomer spoke low in Punz’s ear, before using his free hand to claw into his ribcage. “Sh- Shihit- Boohohomer!” He tried to hold back his giggles, shaking his head as the immediate sensation wracking his ribcage already tickled like hell.

“What’s up? I’m all ears!” Boomer laughed, deciding to pin Punz’s hands beneath his knees so he can use both of his hands. After he managed to pin them there, he wiggled his fingers at his friend. “Now, where should I go next? Your tummy is just right here, so cute and begging to be tickled… but I think I’m gonna go riiiight here…” Boomer gave a devilish grin before kneading his thumbs in circles into his upper waist.

Punz shrieked, arching his back forward. “YohoHOU- *snort* SUHUHUCK! STOHOP IT!” Punz cackled, trying to twist side to side to get rid of the sensations, but the damn feeling just won’t leave and it was causing ticklish shocks to spread across his whole torso.

“N’awww, Punz! I know you’re easily strong enough to escape. You really just wanna be tickled to tears, huh? Tickled so much that you won’t be able to lift a finger against me. Yeah? Is that what you want, Punzie?” Boomer teased, not letting up on those wonderful horrible ticklish circles on his lower ribs.

Covering his face, Punz dug his heels into the ground behind him to try to relieve some of the sensations, but Boomer was just so persistent. “SOHOMEWHEHERE ElSE! P- PLEHEHEASE!” He squealed as his friend’s hands immediately went to squeeze his hips, then to back up to sit on Punz’s knees, immediately scribbling his nails into his thighs.

“NONONO- NOHAHAHAHA-” Punz immediately retaliated, his legs being extremely ticklish. Boomer let out an evil laugh at this new discovery, repeatedly squeezing that spot right above his kneecaps which earned the most high-pitched giggles from the blonde. “No? Not here? Hmmm… I think I like it here, though!” Boomer announced, before scooting back up.

Punz breathed heavily, weakly pulling at his hands- but they remained stuck under Boomer’s knees. “You done?” Boomer asked, his voice expressing more concern than anything. Punz, always wanting a challenge, just smirked. “Never.” He continued to smile, but his eyes grew wide as Boomer slowly started to pull up his white hoodie.

“Ooh, look what we have here! An adorable tummy, just waiting to be tickled by yours truly. You ready, Punz? Are you ready for the tickles since you’re enjoying this soooo much?” Boomer didn’t give him time to answer as he immediately began to flutter his fingertips over his exposed stomach.

“COHOLD HAHANDS- BOOHOHOMER Y- YOU AHASS!” Punz squealed, throwing his head back as one of his worst spots was targeted. “N’awww, you have such a ticklish tummy! That’s so sweet, Punz. I wonder though… ah- ignore me, I’m just going on a ramble.” Boomer spoke to him like he wasn’t destroying him under his fingertips.

The fluttering fingers turned into raking nails, the feeling it provided tickling like hell. Boomer was still curious, though. ‘Do raspberries actually tickle? Would that be a good idea?’ He thought, his fingers not stopping his attack on Punz’s stomach.

Well, here goes nothing.

“PFFT- PLEHEHAHAHAHA- BOOHOHOMER NOHOHO!” Punz went completely limp as a raspberry was planted right on the pudge of his stomach, the feeling strange but extremely ticklish. He let out another screech as more raspberries were placed, followed by nibbles trailing up his sides and ribs as Boomer’s fingers continued to dance along his belly.

“This is so priceless, holy shit!” Boomer eventually sat up, fondly laughing at the dazed look on Punz’s face. “ALRIHIHIGHT!” Punz exclaimed, playfully shoving Boomer off of him and curling up on the grass. “There you go, you managed to escape!” Boomer joked, standing up and towering over his friend.

“That was fun, don’tcha think, Punzie?” Boomer teased, earning an ‘angry’ growl from the other. “Revehenge will be fuhun…” Punz mumbled through his after-giggles, glaring up at Boomer.

“Sure it will, giggles.”

“Shuhut up, will you?!”