#also fits with him knowing exactly when every team is scheduled to be back so he knows if the wormhole is scheduled or not

[janetfraisersmassivestrap]

with the sgc's main gate technician being named walter and considering a large portion of his job is announcing incoming choppers wormholes, he's got to be nicknamed radar by at least some of the people on base

[reiding-writing]

AHHHHH UNSUB READERRRR such an elite concept, could I maybe request soccer calling her post transfer just to talk to her?? of maybe the team catching wind that he's been in contact with her after the case??

THE PHONE CALLS

spencer & gn!unsub!reader || 0.9k || bloodied roses event!!

WARNINGS: just morgan prying and getting absolutely nowhere with it

a/n — ik it was just a typo but calling spencer ‘soccer’ had me laughing for like five minutes thanks for making my day 😭🙏

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ unsub!reader masterlist!!

Spencer had spent a lot of time on his phone recently.

An abnormally long amount of time for somebody who’s sworn off technology in favour of the more ‘traditional’ methods of doing things.

5PM. On the dot. Every single Wednesday. Rain or shine, office or case, Spencer Reid was talking to somebody over the phone.

There were a few theories floating around.

A hidden partner? Almost immediately shot down with how rigorously timed the calls were.

His mom? She had just as much of a hatred of phones as he did, and everyone knew he sent her letters every day anyway.

A doctor maybe? A therapist? A librarian from somewhere in rural Russia that had the singular print of some random piece of literature that Spencer was trying to get his hands on?

It was honestly anyone’s guess.

The fact that he was being oddly secretive about it wasn’t helping anything either.

It was like he was scared of the team finding out. What was there to be ‘scared’ of? They we’re practically family, he surely knew that they wouldn’t judge him for whatever it was, so why was he keeping everything under lock and key?

Hotch told people that they should just leave it, that he’s entitled to his privacy and doesn’t have to tell anyone anything that he doesn’t want to. But that doesn’t exactly fair too well when you’re talking to a group of people who analyse human behaviour for a living. And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

“That’s good, that’s great news,”

Spencer wasn’t exactly quiet either.

He’d practically barricaded himself in the break room to be able to take the call privately, but his voice was still easily heard through the glass, and it wasn’t exactly helping to dim the over-active curiosity of his teammates.

“You know what I mean, it’s progress, it shows that they’re trusting you,”

His pacing also left something to be desired, rhythmic and almost mechanical like it was a way for Spencer to blow off whatever nervous tension had built up during the course of the phone call.

“Alright, yeah, I’ll speak to you next week okay?” A small pause. “Okay, bye,”

Most of the team scrambled to make themselves look busy as Spencer pocket his phone and emerged from behind his self-imposed glass wall, but there was always one who didn’t know how to follow a crowd.

“Alright, you’ve kept your secrets long enough, who is it genius?” Morgan’s voice wasn’t accusatory as it was curious, and he gestures outwards for Spencer’s answer. One that doesn’t come.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I talk to a lot of different people,” He re-takes his seat as his desk with a small shrug, lips awkwardly pressed into a line.

“You take the same phone call every single week at the same exact time, that’s not ‘a lot’ of people pretty boy, it’s one,” Morgan leans forward in his chair, elbows on the table. “So, who is it? A girlfriend?”

“No—” Spencer shakes his head almost too quickly.

“A boyfriend?”

“No it’s not—” Spencer sighs exaggeratedly. “It’s nothing like that, it’s just an acquaintance,”

“An acquaintance you talk to every single week no matter what, even when we’re in the middle of a case,”

“I like having a fit schedule,”

Morgan shakes his head with a laugh. “Nothing about this job is ‘scheduled’ Reid, you’re telling me you only keep a schedule when it comes to this specific acquaintance of yours?” His raises his eyebrow unbelievingly, but Spencer doesn’t back down from his stance.

“They have a much stricter schedule than I do, we talk when they’re available,”

Morgan gives a small breathy laugh and a slow, almost mocking nod. “Right, sure,”

“I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know what else you want,” Spencer shrugs again, this time with a small air of exasperation.

He wasn’t technically lying. You did have a strict schedule at the facility you’d been moved to, and you used the one phone call you had a week so that you could speak to him. He wouldn’t want you to waste it by him not picking up. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Whatever you say pretty boy,” Morgan fiddles with the pen in his hand before pointing it across the bullpen in Spencer’s direction. “But rest assured, I will find out who you’re talking to, even if it means having Garcia hack into your phone records,”

Spencer hopes for both of your sakes that Morgan doesn’t find out who he’s talking to.

Although the threat of Garcia didn’t really hold any value, not that Morgan knew that. All they would find was a psychiatric institute, and for all he could’ve been speaking to absolutely anyone there, patient or staff.

So for the time being, your weekly talks remained something kept held close to his chest, something that would hopefully stay that way indefinitely.

[polo-drone-073]

Time Travel - Drone Memories

In PDU-073, the recharging and recreations procedure has been automatically activated.

It went into is special charging pod. The sensors in the pod detected 073's presence and switched to recharging and recreation mode. In this mode, the drone is not only charged, the condition of the rubber checked and maintained, no, its mind is also completely erased and refilled with the pure Hive thoughts. However, this time there was also a special file. A personal drone memory. A reminder of the time when it had just become a Golden Bro. Eddy, midfielder with the number 73 in the Golden Team.

For it, it's a kind of journey back in time to the beginnings. To moments that had actually disappeared from her memory. This was not a hint of sentimentality to make the drone more human. No, actually the opposite is behind it. It is a strategy to strengthen the drone's bond with its mentor and experimenter.

At least that's the official statement. Between the lines, it sounds more like 073 should submit to PDU-070 (@polo-drone-070) even more.

Eddy was still very new; He had just put on his gear and stepped into the common room. Here he was warmly welcomed. Various conversations took place, including among the drones present, some of whom struggled with the idea of moving into the new hive because their host also uses Discord professionally and they could not present themselves as drones.

Suddenly, a voice broke into the hustle and bustle: "We have snow in Paris. - I'm not sure if 3h or 5h here. Was inside and didn't look at the windows before noon."

Eddy was perplexed - It was Thursday, from Friday he had booked a short vacation in Paris. He immediately wanted to know how cold it was. Had he packed the right clothes. -5 °C, that should fit.

His head was rattling. Could it come to a real meeting? His head was rattling. No, the tight schedule would not allow that. What a pity.

And on Saturdays there was free time after all. Unfortunately, Bros Eddy was so screwed up that he didn't contact him immediately, but only a good hour later. It didn't come to a meeting then.

It would have been great. Then in the morning he had also learned that 070 was his mentor and should help him with all questions about Golden.

And Eddy quickly realized that PDU-070 was not a simple drone, no, it was also part of the management and very dedicated. Questions were answered in a few words, sometimes delayed and very drone-like, very efficiently. Eddy quickly got used to this way and it didn't bother him. In a sense, he was also fascinated by the few words in which information could be transported. Eddy was a bro of many words, even in his previous life.

His attachment to PDU-070 grew. Or was it PDU-070 that deliberately sent certain thoughts in this direction. I saw the potential in this bro. Or just the potential willing guinea pig?

Eddy trained regularly with the Bros, but also alone, sharing their stories and those of the drones. It became more and more difficult for him, as his hip was causing more and more problems. Even if he gritted his teeth, it was no longer possible.

At the same time, something was happening in his head. Thoughts of a life in black rubber, a simple life without having to think for yourself. Even less of his own thinking than what he needed as a jock-bro.

These thoughts became stronger and stronger. and when one day Brody held the black polo shirt under his nose, he didn't have to think twice.

And no wonder, again it was PDU-070 that did the conversion.

And the bond grew. A bond that began at eye level, but slowly developed into a submissiveness, coupled with 100% trust. A trust so deep that it is available as a guinea pig in every experiment. Starting with 070's attempt to shape it into an optimized drone whose thought structures follow the Hive and exclusively the Hive.

073 became a pure tool of the Hive and of course also for 070. 073 is absorbed in his role. He felt that total submission is exactly what he wants. Unconditional obedience, no questions, no doubts that what the Hive, DC or 070 told her to do is right. That what is supposed to happen to it is for the benefit of the Hive.

Do you still have free will and your own thoughts? System error! We can help. Contact our recruiters: @brodygold or @goldenherc9.

[just-run-it-out]

The anxiety and task paralysis is real today. I had every intention of going into work but then it took me hours to get to sleep and when I finally did, I woke up nearly every hour. I’m can’t pin point exactly what I’m worried about, I think I just have a lot on my mind.

My bf started a new job which is making me feel anxious because I know that he’s feeling stressed so therefore I feel stressed.

My team leader is also back tomorrow and I think he wants to discuss work from home days in our meeting on Friday and I’m trying to work out how to say to him I would prefer to come in 1-2 days a week rather than always 2. Now that I’ve lived without a commute for 2 weeks I don’t want to do it unless I have to.

I also just have so much to do this week

Monday night we stayed at my parents house so I had to drive into the city/eastern suburbs and then get the train back out the following afternoon.

Tomorrow I’m going into Melbourne again for some appointments then having dinner at my parents so I can leave once the traffic is cleared.

Friday I have to go into the office as my team leader is back and I think we have a meeting scheduled for my 12 week review.

Saturday we have a dinner function where I have to get dressed up which is, surprise, in Melbourne so we’re staying at my parents house

Somehow need to fit in 2 gym workouts over the weekend

Monday I’m having tradies coming over to do some small jobs around the house

Which also reminds me I have to find time to go to bunnings to pick up a washing line and a lattice/trellis at some point

In the background there’s also wedding things going on which are low key stressing me out even though it’s not until July next year

[usercookie2008]

What is the the Generation AU is about?? 👀

IM GLAD YOU ASKED :D

ready for a ramble here, it's gonna be a bit long

Alright so The Generations AU is an Au that goes off the passage of time and Generally poses the story Upon how Nightmare has to experience those he loves pass away with due time and life basically Circling through as it does

Now this is also like a Dadmare kind of Au with NM having a really Close relationship with his gang members (Cross, Killer, Horror, and Dust) or more of less Sons.

Now in the begining of the Au it really seems like a Simple ordinary run of the mill Bad Sanses Found family with a shit ton of Headcannons sorta spewed in there (like Cross is into Photography, Dust does Needle felting, Killer does carvings n stuff these actually play a part so much later too so like duely note this) but as it progresses Nightmare begins to watch his Boys Grow up and make families of their own, and that time they're still absolute menaces to the AUs yeah though it's a little calmer with Nightmare scheduling accordingly cause he doesn't want his boys to miss out on time with a loved one or ones cause some do indefinitely have kids in the far future

Now yk things seem to be going perfectly fine though theres the first Hick up with Cross's relationship really starting to fall appart with Swap. I'm not too sure what happens majorly between this point Appart from Nightmare being Absolutely pissed at Swap and also Nightmare getting to actually Meet Cross's kids for the first time since he and swap were temporarily taking a break from each other after a really heated argument they had about each other's Jobs of their respective teams, usually wasn't a problem but over the topic it was hard scheduling for making sure they were cared for when they had to do their jobs while Cross did indeed have that and could plan ahead, Swap was often Dragged away at the same time or anytime by Ink and Swap suggested that possibly Cross could Retire from the bad Sanses

Anyways so Cross Lives back in the manor for that time being and NM gets time to spend with his Grandchildren

Not much happens again though more time passes and more and more Problems or just inconveniences happen

But then that's when things kinda go for the worse for Nightmare when he finds Cross unresponsive and ultimately dust's due to a heartbroken soul

With Cross being separated from Swap, which due to the arguments getting worse with every time one arose Which had grew more and more constant by the day they had decided that their Marriage is over (oh yeah did I mention they were married? Er well they were), it left Cross very upset and in Abit of a bad headspace. Cross to kinda put it is like a person with a heart on their elbow (that's what it is right? Recently heard about it and really thought wow it kinda fits Cross quite a bit). He didn't do anything to himself but Fell down due to just how bad he felt and upsetting the whole ordeal was, especially because he still loved Swap even if the relationship was over

Noting Cross had the custody of their two kids, Fluke and Cort, Nightmare takes it upon himself to Protect and Raise them and this point Its where Nightmare kinda realizes or more or less remembers that he's inmortal, but his gang isn't. Even so doesn't really deter him from exactly Promising/swearing to himself that he'll take care of these generations

Maybe,,

Idk there's actually a lot still in speculation did only Thought up of this Au like 4 days ago but The ideas are brewing frfr

But uh yeah the general thing is Nightmare Watching over the generations of their Children and their children's Children and ECT ect for however long with the reoccurring of the kids wanting to follow in their parents footsteps plus nightmare ofc adopting more Sanses in the long run

Now though THE ANGST oh boy do I got Ideas

So knowing how these kids are basically similar like mini versions of his found family, there's probably been so many times Nightmare has to keep himself from Bursting into tears whenever he sees of of his kids in their childrens faces or just something that one of them did before that seemed to carry on through the kid like Habits or something

Also the General grief Nightmare would have with every Soul he has to watch pass by knowing he'll Never, Never, See them ever again and he'll live with that forever. Eventually he likely mellows out to acceptance but I don't think he'd ever truely recover from losing his boys that actually made him see life as actually something Truly beautiful instead of a Dark pit it had seemed to much like before they cracked through that wall he built around himself because of his Au and experiences before he even had a chance to really live

On a side note Nightmare does actually get some Support that also tag along with him through these things or more or less ends up picking up a few immortals along the way too so Noot gets some comfort but uh yeah that's kinda all I got of now

I don't even have a solid Baseline for this Au yet and I'm already thinking of All the Different times n stuff for it lol

Though it seems more centralized in the time period not too long after Nightmare looses all his Boys and is around the point of Raising a few of their kids and some Fusions he found too of what will be known as the first generation :>

Oh also here's some art cause I do have a bit of a doodle with Noot

I'm not 100% sure if I'm going to keep that jacket (I might change it later) but I do know I'm going to keep the Layers underneath it

Also planning on adding accessories that Nightmare was gifted from his kids, maybe something like a Locket from Cross, A Knife from Killer, yk like something that meant a lot to them and They Gifted Nightmare these things cause it resembled them (especially so to Nightmare even if to anyone else they just seem like normal items)

Also here's the initial Screenshot of me conjuring up the Au Idea and my brain has been going Bonkers over it since then

Also anyone feel free to ask more questions about the Au (or really any of my Aus) and I will be so Happy to answer 💥

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Observation Period

Writers’ Iron Chef #11

A/N: Thank you so much to @littleferal for putting together this prompt challenge! This was one that I cycled through a few characters before landing where I did, but I’m happy with where it took me because it reinvigorated my desire to finish the main story for Recall. (This one takes place shortly after Frowned Upon)

Word Count: 1,412

Warnings: mentions of gunshot wounds and medical/technological procedures - nothing graphic. Angst. Sorry. 

Summary: Being part of Ginger’s team in the lab at Statesman means being ready for anything at the drop of a hat. 

Prompt: “I’ll be here the whole night, okay?” 

The alert came through on your watch roughly twenty minutes before you were scheduled to leave for the day. 

AGENT DOWN. Alpha Gel applied. Prep memory recall bay. Transport incoming: ETA 13 minutes.

An ice-cold shiver moved down your spine as those words sunk in. Shit. Someone was shot. You immediately abandoned the data sheets that you were reviewing, grabbing your tablet and rushing out the door towards the lab. Who? Who was… On the way down the hall, you swiped the screen to open the file for the day, skimming through it until you got to the section that showed which agents were currently out on missions. 

ACTIVE ASSETS:  Tequila / Vermouth  Whiskey / Merlot 

Though you hated to think about any of the Statesman agents in such a critical situation, your heart thudded harder as you read the second set of codenames. Oh, no. Most of the agents that you’d interacted with both before and after your promotion to Ginger’s assistant had been nice, or at the very least polite. But Whiskey, in addition to being attractive and charming, had also been engaging and as interested in your answers to the questions he’d ask when you shared the elevator in the mornings as you were in his. 

The thought of it being him made you suck in a breath and quicken your steps. 

Ginger was already in the lab when you got there, the woman in front of the main computer station, her fingers moving furiously over the keys to boot up the Recall program. Good. Good, she’s on it and we’ll be ready and - “I’m here,” you called towards her back as you reached for one of the white coats hanging on hooks near the door. Shrugging it on, you peeked over her shoulder at the various screens. “Do you know who it-” 

“Not yet,” she answered without turning around, a quick shake of her head along with her response. “But it can’t be Tequila or Vermouth, not with that ETA. They’re all the way up in Vermont right now. It’s gotta be either-” 

Your heart sank, the realization hitting you. “Merlot or Whiskey.” 

“Exactly.” She confirmed, and you watched as she pulled up both of their files, navigating to the Recall tab and getting them set to load. “Can you boot up the memory bay? I want to be ready as soon as we know which Agent it is.” 

You nodded, a quiet “yeah” slipping out. Feet carrying you across the lab towards the pod-like bed, you let your training take over pressing buttons and turning dials so that the machinery whirred to life. Eyes following every tube and wire, you checked to make sure that they were all connected and functioning properly. Finally, you connected the visor that would be fitted over the Agent’s head while the Recall program ran its course, lifting it up so that the pillow was unobscured for when the patient was brought in. 

Patient - not asset or project or whatever other bullshit term the agents were referred to in briefings and data reports. Because they’re fucking people, not weapons. Not machines or- You swallowed, suddenly aware that your idle hands had curled into fists. Not now. You shook out your wrists and paced back towards Ginger. Focus. I need to- 

Before you could finish your thought, your watch buzzed with another alert, this one forcing your eyelids to clamp shut and your stomach to drop as soon as you read the words. No. 

Transport incoming: ETA 4 minutes. Codename: WHISKEY 

“Oh, shit,” Ginger muttered, fingers once again flying rapidly over the keys. On the screen, Merlot’s file vanished leaving only Whiskey’s - Jack. His name is Jack. “He was just…” Her head shook, short hair swinging with the motion. “Three months ago. And now-” She opened up another tab, double checking notes from the last time that Jack had needed an Alpha Gel treatment along with the Recall program. “Yeah, two missions ago. Head shot. Left temple.” 

With each blink you saw another flash of his smile, another glimpse of the light in his deep brown eyes. Chest tightening painfully, you tried to prepare yourself for what you were about to see - Jack, brought in on a stretcher with the Gel patch applied to his wound, his smile gone slack and his bright eyes closed. You tried to tell yourself what you already knew - it’s only temporary, he’ll live and he’ll be okay. 

He was shot in the fucking head, it’s not- 

“Okay, get ready.” Ginger’s voice grabbed your attention. “They’re here.” 

– – – 

An hour later, Jack was laying in the memory bay, the Recall program running and the reparative process underway. All of the monitors hummed and beeped in an even rhythm, all of his vitals reading as normal and no signs - so far - that the Alpha Gel hadn’t been activated in time. Merlot had thankfully been right beside him when he was hit, only a matter of seconds lost before she was able to act to save him. 

He’s going to make it. You finally let out a sigh of relief. He’s going to pull through, and-

“Maraschino?” You swiveled in the direction of Ginger’s voice, blinking twice. “I can finish up the report and close up the lab for the night.” Close up the lab? But…  “You’re already here late, and Club will be here by 3, so-” 

“Shouldn’t someone…” You tilted your head and used one arm to indicate Jack, glancing over at the window in the visor where his face was visible. His eyelids were screwed tight, a crease digging deep between his eyebrows, his plush lips pursed in a frown. “Shouldn’t someone stay with him? Monitor his progress through the night?” I can’t just leave him. I… That’s not right. 

“That’s not protocol,” Ginger responded. “There’s nothing to monitor that we can’t view remotely, and he won’t be awake until we’re both back in the morning anyway. As long as the system is running?” She shrugged. “It’s like he’s asleep.” 

I am not just going to leave him here. “I’d still like to stay.” Your insistence made one of the woman’s brows arch high in surprise, and you swore at yourself, trying to come up with a viable reason. “This is the first time since I’ve been part of your team that an Agent has needed the Recall program.” The piles of data that you’d left sitting on your desk came back to mind, and you knew you had a bullet proof excuse. “I’d like to observe the whole process, for my research.” 

You can’t say no to that, can you? You knew that she couldn’t. One of the reasons you’d been selected for the position that you were currently in was because Ginger was intrigued by your pitch for studying memory restoration and how to make resets easier and less traumatic for agents. 

Her mouth opened and she blinked, but then she nodded, lips quirking into a smile. “Well, if it's for your research, then I guess I can allow it. I’ll sign off on it in the lab notes so you don’t get any grief from Champ.” She winked at you and shrugged out of her lab coat, leaving it on the hook near the door. “You did great tonight, by the way. You’re going to go far in this lab, I can tell.” With that she told you to try to get a few hours of sleep after Club clocked in - “I’m gonna need you sharp when Whiskey wakes up. He can be…” She rolled her eyes. “A lot when he resets.” - and then it was just the two of you. 

Just you and Jack in the brightly lit lab. 

Pulling one of the rolling chairs from the computer station over to the bay where he lay flat on his back, you took a seat right beside him. You lacked the clearance level to know the details that were loaded into his memory files, and you had no clue what his trigger object was. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow. 

If the look on his sleeping face was any indication though, you doubted it was anything pleasant. Another twinge of sorrow for him twisted through your chest, and before you could stop yourself you were reaching for his hand. “I don’t know if you can hear me Jack.” I hope you can. You tightened your fingers around his knuckles. “But I’ll be here the whole night, okay?” 

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or filling out the form on my masterlist!

tags: @something-tofightfor @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch​ @prolix-yuy​ @littleferal​

[shingia]

hopefullyy this inspires u to write,,, can i request hc's of the boys getting jealous seeing their s/o work well with another person on a team/club? like good chemistry with a dance partner for example! (u can choose who u write but can it include iwa!!) <33

✗ HQ BOYS GETTING JEALOUS SEEING YOU WORK WELL WITH ANOTHER PERSON ✗

a/n : kdjfkdjdkdj i love this request omg ty ! i did half hc/half scenarios bc i thought the request fitted this format <3

-> iwaizumi, osamu, kuroo, suna, tsukishima

-> warnings : kuroo’s a bit suggestive (tbh i don’t know about the rest. it’s just... kinda hot? (tsukki’s only fluff tho<3))

-> reblogs are >>>>

— IWAIZUMI

• iwa’s jealousy was practically non existent until he actually saw you interact with your partner

• don’t get me wrong, he absolutely loves your smile - but he especially loves to be the one who caused it

• he tends to get physically very protective of you, so expect his arm to stay wrapped around your shoulders most of the time. because to him it’s the easiest way to show the world (but especially your partner) that you’re his

• he also not-so-subtly offers you to wear his clothes on days when you have practice. and he secretly hopes that someone will ask you who they belong to...

« it’s cold outside. you should wear this ». iwa’s low and unannounced voice makes you turn around in surprise. leaned against the bathroom’s doorframe, he’s holding your favorite jacket in his hand - the one with his name written on the back, and you suspect that this might not be a coincidence... with a chuckle, you agree to put it on, noticing the proud spark in his eyes. « you know, i’m pretty sure everyone already knows i’m dating you » you tease him with a wink, all while also admiring the way his name takes up the whole width of your back. « oh yeah ? » he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leans forward to rest his hands on the sink behind you. trapped between his outstretched arms, you watch his smirk grow just a little bit bigger as he lets out, very quietly, « well this is just a reminder... it better be the last ». his green eyes locked with yours could almost make you forget about his arm snaking around your waist at a painfully slow pace. almost.

— OSAMU

• look, he’s very happy for you. no doubt about it. but he’s so used to see people fawn over his brother that he can’t help but get a little protective from time to time

• since gifts are his #1 love language, he might buy you a workout-friendly piece of jewelry that you can wear during your practice

• he also insists on dropping you off and picking you up as often as his busy schedule allows it. especially since he learned that your partner was willing to give you a ride home...

• it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, obviously. he just doesn’t trust them yet

• and that’s why his kisses - and pda in general - are a bit more « intense » than usual

leg bouncing up and down, osamu is (very) anxiously for your conversation with your teammate to end. because after watching the entirety of your practice, he needs a little reminder that you two also have incredible chemistry together... a better one, even. so as soon as he sees you wave your teammate goodbye, he stands up straight, arms open just wide enough to welcome you against his chest. but instead of the chaste kiss you expected to get, you’re actually greeted by his left hand grabbing your sides while his right meets your lower back. disconcerted, you don’t even have time to say a word that his mouth crashes onto yours so eagerly that you have to lean back a few inches. « wh-what was that for ? » you pant as soon as his warm lips have left yours. « nothing. i love ya, that’s all » he smiles innocently, glad that you didn’t notice the cocky look he just gave your teammate who witnessed everything from afar... exactly as planned.

— KUROO

• passive agressive™️

• he would insist on properly meeting your partner but oh god they better brace themselves,,,

• because kuroo’s the kind of boyfriend that will shake their hand hard enough to make them yelp, all while having an angelic smile plastered on his face

• oh and you can forget being called by your name : he’s going to demonstrate the entire variety of nicknames he has for you. he might even come up with new ones just because he’s feeling « inspired »

• every single thing he says to your partner has to be a reminder that you two are dating. like « oh yeah they told me about this yesterday.. during our date ». just to make sure that there’s no misunderstanding.

« well... speak of the devil », kuroo hears you chuckle, your voice almost drowned out by his heavy breathing. he’s obviously planing on apologizing for being late... but not now. there’s something he wants to do first. still very aware of your partner’s presence right in front of you, he decides to securely yet eagerly wrap his arms around your waist before spinning you around proudly. « so... you guys were talking about me ? » he asks, glad to know that he’s the reason behind your giggles. « we were, actually » you answer a bit more seriously as he finally puts you down, still keeping both his hands on your waist. « well, i am your boyfriend after all... » he starts, interrupting himself to place a loud peck on your jawline. the only thing you can think is about is how awful this situation must be for your partner... kuroo, on the other hand, doesn’t seem bothered at all, as shown by the way one of his hands discreetly makes its way under the fabric of your t-shirt to rest directly on your skin. « hands off, kuroo » you order him with a slap on the back of his hand. an offended gasp leaves his lips, yet he complies reluctantly, thinking that your partner probably already knows everything that needs to be known about him.

— SUNA

• he doesn’t really mind it... as long as you’re willing to cuddle once you get back from practice. if you’re not, then he’s gonna start to worry

• because cuddling is probably his favorite ‘boyfriend privilege’ and he doesn’t want it to be taken away from him

• his schedule is pretty tight so he might not be able to attend any of your practices, but he asks you to record it as much as you possibly can so that he can watch the videos with you afterwards

• and seeing how smoothly you and your partner move together definitely doesn’t help with his worrying

it’s been thirty minutes now, and suna’s still not done watching the videos you took today. he loves to share these moments with you, snuggled up against each other the bed ; but most importantly, he has someone to keep his eye on... « babe- are you 100% sure that this was part of the choreography? » he suddenly speaks up, his eyes leaving the screen for the first time. you quirk a curious eyebrow, more surprised by his unusually suspicious tone rather than by the question itself. « oh, the hand on my waist ? yes, rin. it was ». at your words, his lips press into a thin line, he’s obviously far from being convinced. but you know your boyfriend well and you’re quick to reassure him : « you know, his hand might have been on my waist but you’re the one laying in my bed right now ». the frown on his face disappears almost immediately - much faster than you would’ve thought, replaced by a much more confident expression as his hands start to gently stroke your sides up and down. « mmh, i guess you’re right.... i mean, at the end of the day, only i get to have ‘all of this’ for myself » he smirks, playfully eyeing you up and down until he can’t resist the temptation of your slightly parted lips anymore.

— TSUKISHIMA

• tsukki’s not jealous, he’s just... well.. cautious. or at least that’s what he tells you

• but, deep down, he knows that simple cautiousness wouldn’t make spend his days and nights stressing about this new partner of yours...

• so, after a few weeks, his impassible facade starts to crumble a little bit. nothing too extreme, but just enough to let your partner know that you’re taken.

• and he knows he doesn’t need to do much : one of his signature scornful looks is more than enough. especially when he’s staring at your partner dead in the eyes while you’re greeting him with a hug and a kiss after your practice

« tsukishima kei, i’m waiting for an explanation ». with a sigh, your boyfriend drops his book on the table, turning his chair around to face you. « i don’t have one, i already told you. you told me to introduce myself, and i did. end of story ». you both know that tsukki did not just ‘introduce himself’ like any other human being would have done. and that’s precisely what you’re trying to make him admit - because your partner looked genuinely scared during practice today. « wha- no, i didn’t look down on him. it’s not my fault he’s so short... » he mumbles under his breath, trying his best to avoid any eye contact with you. but you know that only a slight tilt of his chin upwards is enough to make his eyes lock with yours - and that this is enough to have him admit anything. « you’re jealous, kei. and it’s painfully obvious by the way... » you smirk - but this smirk disappears in a split second as he slowly gets up from his chair, towering over you like he usually does. « ok, maybe i am. but i just wanted to make sure that he knew his place. and especially mine » he finally admits, his lips spreading in a scornful smirk that would be terrifying if his eyes weren’t filled with the infinite tenderness he has always felt for you.

✔️taglist : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @mochi-marie @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @atiny-grl-with-luv @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac

[gucciwins]

Are you Angel?

Harry gets hurt while on the job and Y/N gets a phone call she was not prepared for.

Word count: 7413

A/N: hello friends, it's been a while :) this is a continuation to my story Trouble Follows. You don't have to read but it will give you an insight of how Y/N and Harry met. I am thrilled to share more of firefighter harry with you. I adore him and I hope you do as well.

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

Warnings: angst, breakups, hospitals

A firefighter will always run into a burning building with not a hint of hesitation. All their focus is on saving the people stuck inside.

Running towards trouble is second nature to them.

She knew that.

She also knew what it meant to date a firefighter.

The unreliable hours, the non-frequent communication, the many failed dinner dates. The twenty-four hours shifts when he would then arrive home to just sleep.

Harry had begun to give her a constant comfort that he would eventually come home and climb into bed behind her. He would then gently nuzzle his face in her neck, taking in her sweet honey scent. In contrast, she took in the woody ashy smell that seems to be permanently stained on him.

So trust her when she said she knew what she was in for when Harry asked her to be his girlfriend.

Four months in, she knew she would be here for a long time, maybe forever, if life would allow it.

She was sure; she knew what to expect.

But she didn't, not until she got the call.

The call that would shatter her heart.

The call that would lead her to be sitting in this uncomfortable, ugly brown hospital chair, holding tightly onto his ashy hand. As she prayed on and on to a God, she no longer held close but wished for Harry they were real and would bring Harry back to her.

Y/N prayed for Harry to finally open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile that he would be okay.

That they would be okay.

Until then, she'll wait.

Harry being Lieutenant allowed him to have a consistent schedule. That did not mean there weren't days where he had to pull a double shift or stay back to finish paperwork; he let it pile up.

The one day that was Y/N's was Sunday.

She got him an entire day to lay in bed together and eat all the baked goods she baked for him to try. It was becoming their day. Everyone at the station knew Harry could not be disturbed on Sundays unless it was the end of the world, and even then, they'd have to pry him away from Y/N.

He feels safe in her arms. Harry had never felt that before. Sure, he was surrounded by his firehouse family, but he had never felt so loved in two arms as if she could take all his problems and stresses away. Still, she did exactly that when she would flash him her gorgeous smile and hold her arms open for him to fall into at the end of every day.

Harry knows he's never felt this way, and he won't ever take it for granted.

This Sunday will be different, and she feels it as soon as she wakes up because, in her queen-sized bed, she's alone. No arms wrapped around her waist; no head tucked into her necks as he places soft open kisses to wake her from her sleep gently.

Already, she knows this is going to be a bad day. She feels it in her bones. Having been around trouble for so long, she knows the difference between good and bad. The feelings she has made her want to find Harry and pull him back into bed where she can keep him safe.

Y/N gets out of bed, throwing the warm sheets off her body going to the bathroom to do her morning skin routine, wanting to feel refreshed for when Harry breaks the news; he's going to leave her alone on their day. She knows him well enough; he's cooking her breakfast to make up for leaving her so early in the morning.

She walks out of her bathroom, going straight to her closet and taking out the first sweater she saw. It's a baby blue color and stitched on the left side on top of her heart is: "love me please?" It's Harry's favorite sweater of hers because it's an oversized sweater that fits him well. The only reason she has it back is that he wanted her to wash it and wear it until it got her smell again. Y/N kissed him silly when he told her that, plus she loves that it smells like him now.

Y/N takes one look at her unmade bed and walks away, knowing she's going to crawl back in after Harry leaves her. She walks out and, from the hallway, can hear Harry humming away. If she's honest, she doesn't recognize the song. As she has come to learn, Harry has an interesting taste in music; he has basically heard every song ever to exist. It's a reason they are so good at Four Clovers Thursday Trivia night. She dominates pop culture and films, and Harry takes on music. She's also better at history than him. Their friends love trivia night because their winning always gets them free drinks. It's something she looks forward to each week.

"Morning, H," Y/N says as she approaches him from behind and wraps her arms around his waist. Harry smiles, instantly feeling warm with her arms around him.

"Morning, firebug. Sleep well?"

She mumbles a no, causing Harry to laugh, and she feels it vibrate through her.

"Awe, upset I wasn't wrapped around you." He teases. "I'm making up to you by making breakfast."

She pulls away, spotting blackberries on the counter. "Sure, Jan."

Harry can hear the change in her tone and knows she's still goofing off with him but knows she's upset.

"Angel, come sit. Coffee is ready."

She shakes her head but makes her way over to the chair he pulled out for her. "No coffee. I'll be going back to bed soon." Y/N waits to see if he'll correct her, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry." He begins.

"No apologies."

"Please let me. I'm leaving you on our day." He pouts.

"As much as I don't want you to go, I'm sure they need you more than I do."

Harry frowns, "I hope you'll never stop needing me." He whispers against her lips before closing the gap. Y/N hums against his soft lips allowing herself to get lost in the moment; she loves his kisses, soft and gentle just as he is despite what his sharp eyes might have one believe.

Harry pulls away after pressing one final kiss on her pouted lips. "I'm sorry I have to go to work, but I know for certain that I can meet you for a late lunch."

"Lunch?" She repeats, arms wrapped around his waist, hoping he was serious with his offer.

He hums. "Yes, 2:30, that bistro with that avocado dressing you like for your sandwich."

"It's a date." She grins, laying her head on his chest letting him hold her tight. He unwraps his arms, letting her go.

"I've got to get going, firebug, but I'll see you later."

"Stay safe, Styles." She tells him as she does every time he leaves.

"Try my best, angel."

With that, he slips his beat-up white Vans with lilac laces and walks out the door; it shuts it behind him. Just as Y/N steps towards it to lock up, it opens back up, startling her. Harry steps back in, and before she can question him, he places both faces on the side of her face and kisses her breathless. Y/N is quick to react, allowing their lips to move in perfect harmony, not as smooth but perfect, nonetheless.

"I--" Harry begins before he clears his throat. "I'll miss you, angel."

Y/N feels the heat rush to her cheeks because, for a moment, she thought he'd say another three words. "And I'll miss you, H. Now get out of here; I don't need you showing up late to our lunch date."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display, hugging her before walking out a skip in his step. She peaks her head out, making sure he gets in the car safely before he drives off. He sits there for a moment, and she knows he is letting his Bluetooth connect as he waits for his drive-to-work playlist titled "it's time" to start playing. He takes a look at his mirrors before backing out and driving. That's when Y/N closes and locks the door.

Time to go back to bed for a few more hours; what else is there to do on a Sunday when she's left alone.

Harry genuinely did not want to go to work today, but it's not like he could say no to his Chief. His Chief was never one to call in favor unless it was an emergency. He didn't ask, knowing he'd get the full story Monday, but for now, he gets on his pants, t-shirt, and boots and hopes there are no fires today.

The only thing is that Harry isn't used to working with the B-shift, sure he knows everyone's name and a little of their lives, but they aren't his usual team. He shakes that off because he knows he would do anything to help a team member and knows they would do the same in return.

Harry is lost in thought, wondering what Y/N was going to do today. He knows she planned to take him to a butterfly pavilion today even told him the outfit she had planned out for it. A pair of jeans that had flowers embroidered all over something she added, saying she thought they looked a bit plain, pairing it with a pastel pink top. Harry was surprised with her style after meeting her various times in different outfits. He was surprised at how soft she dressed in pastels. She may have a bold personality, but her fashion was delicate and warm. It was a nice balance.

He nearly runs into Carols as he made his way to his office, too busy thinking of the girl he left at home. "Sorry, bud."

"No problem, Harry. Surprised to see you here," Carols tells him, everyone knowing Sunday was Harry's day off.

"Chief had something come up and asked me to come in. I should be out of here by eight tonight if we're lucky."

Carlos smiles, "with you around, we usually are."

Harry chuckles, telling him he'll be in his office if he needs anything. He looks around his desk and sighs at how much has piled up already.

Might as well get ahead.

It's a few hours when Harry realizes the house is quiet. He peaks around the window and figures they are all in the common room. It's only one, and thankfully there have been no calls, and if it continues, then he will make it to lunch with his angel.

He shoots her a text.

Angel

13:24 PM

I miss you. Counting down the minutes until I get to see you xxx

Harry clicks send and smiles down at his phone. 2:30 couldn't come fast enough.

As he gets up to stretch and go for a snack in the kitchen, he takes a deep breath because as confident as he may seem, he isn't around the second shift. They don't know him so well, and Harry ultimately is shy. He may be able to hide it, but he has small quicks that others pick up on. Something he knows Y/N spotted quickly, like when he toes his foot into the ground or when he begins to chip at his nails, and Y/N's favorite is when he moves his hands behind his back and sways side to side. She finds it endearing, but others might not think it's leadership material.

He walks into the lounge to cross to the kitchen when a few heads turn to him, but before they can say a word, the alarm rings, and Harry is literally saved by the bell.

Not a second to waste, everyone heads over to the rig and quickly suits up. Harry is Lieutenant meaning he's in charge of the scene today, seeing as their captain and Chief aren't here today. Harry respects all the firefighters and knows this will go well if everyone carries out their job.

It's a factory fire, and as soon as they arrive, Harry can see it's burning fast. He's not sure how many people are there, but he calls in for reinforcements knowing they will need all the manpower they can get.

"This is House 102; please send more units available. The factory fire is burning at a faster rate than we can control. My team is going in now. There are five people unaccounted for; the left side of the building is clear." Harry speaks into his two-way radio.

"Carlos," the young firefighter jogs over, eyes on Harry, no longer staring at the roaring fire. "You're going in with Baz. Stay close and don't go up the second floor; you need to be quick in and out."

"Who's going with you, Lieutenant?" Carlos asks, clearly worried.

"Jameson and Rey are coming with me; stay safe, and if anything happens, just radio in."

"You got it!" Harry pats his shoulder and walks off towards the two waiting men.

Harry knows the men well, he trained them when they came into the house, but they preferred B-shift instead of being with him. One spot was available, and he knew they didn't want to be separated. Rey and Jameson have been dating for two years, but that's a secret only very few know. It's not prohibited, but if it gets more serious, one will have to relocate to a new station. They simply aren't ready for that, and indeed Harry would be sad not to have them around the house or hearing their stories. It just adds a more considerable risk because, at the end of the day, the job is first.

Rey walks towards the entrance with Harry following right behind. Jameson, a few feet back, calling out for anyone in there that needs help.

"Fire department, call out." Echoes out as much as it can as the fire begins to roar louder.

The heat gets worse the further they walk in; they turn right at the edge of a desk labeled "Torres."

"H, there!" Rey shouts, rushing over to a man knocked unconscious and had heavy storage struck over his legs, pinning him down. Harry and Jameson run over, assessing the man before making any sudden moves.

Jameson finds a pulse, weak but there. He gets the extra mask over the man's face hoping it'll wake him up soon.

"On the count of three, we lift," Harry tells the two men standing to a stand as the others do the same.

They nod. "One, two, three." They grunt in unison, pushing the container to a standing position. Harry looks over the man's legs and is thankful there is no blood, but there will be swelling and bruises. "Right, Rey, take him out. We'll keep searching."

Rey nods, lifting the man over his shoulder as he was trained to do, and rushes out of the burning building. Harry and Jameson have just learned a new area when the radio comes on. "Lieutenant Styles, it's Carlos. We found two men; only one remains unaccounted for."

Harry nods. "Got it, no one comes back in. We'll be out soon."

He now leads the way, making his way towards a stairway. There's no fire here, but it's moving faster, and smoke is thick. Whoever is in here might not last much longer without oxygen.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts, voice firm.

"Here.." a whisper is heard, both Harry and Jameson freeze. Once more, "here" is yelled but sounds muffled.

Harry looks around, not seeing anything but fire, and fears the structure will collapse soon. Just as he was about to yell again, he sees a can knocked, and a man hidden under a black rag is seen. Jameson rushes over, helping the man sit up. He's older, well into his sixties. He doesn't look too well; he has a few scapes.

"Right, we need to head out," Jameson tells Harry, helping the man stand up who is fighting consciousness.

"This is Lieutenant Styles; on our way out found the last man. Have paramedics on standby."

"Got it, Styles. Get out quick."

Jameson and Harry get the man up and head to exit. Harry can see the light of day and knows he will be late for lunch, but thankful Y/N is understanding and very forgiving. He'll make it up to her by buying dessert.

Just as they almost reach the door, a piece of dry wood comes falling down, separating Harry and Jameson; luckily, it did not hit them, but now Harry has to find a new way out. It's not looking good.

"Harry," Jameson looks panicked, but Harry stays calm.

"Get him out, now," Harry tells him, looking in every direction for what to do.

"No, I won't-" Harry cuts him off.

"Jameson, get this man out. He needs medical attention. That's an order." Voice full of authority with no room to argue.

Jameson nods and heads out. "I'm coming back for you."

Harry chuckles. He sees a small path, but it'd be a more extended way out. He debates what to do. He could wait, but the longer he stays, the quicker this building is beginning to collapse.

It takes him two seconds to decide to go right and find a new route out instead of staying put. He walks and only gets hotter as the fire begins to surround him. He's good at not panicking, always thinks better under pressure, but this is getting intense. Harry climbs over a crate and bends low to go through this tight space. He sees the exit, it's still a bit away, but he knows he is in the clear.

That's when he hears a big explosion knocking him forward. His oxygen masks flys off, landing a few feet away. As Harry reaches his hand out to get it, he's pulled back. He looks behind and sees he's stuck. There are crates stacked on top of him. The air is thick of smoke, and with no oxygen, it seems like the fire will soon enough engulf him.

Shit.

He's really in trouble now.

Harry presses his radio, holding it, hoping it's still working. "This is Harry," He coughs. "I'm trapped under a few crates. I can't reach my ask. I'm west of the building."

"Harry, hold on. We're going in." Harry hears Jameson reply, but he's fading quickly.

He shakes his head. "Can't go to sleep, but this smoke is too thick to actually see anything, let alone for his team to find him.

"Tell…" He coughs again, and this time doesn't stop for what feels like five minutes but is only a few seconds. "Tell angel, I'm sorry."

A voice comes over the speaker, but Harry's eyelids are fluttering shut, the weight of the crates is too much, and the smoke only gets deeper in his lungs if he keeps speaking.

Harry welcomes the darkness as he sees the one person he was supposed to meet for lunch. She's holding an outstretched hand for him to take and who is he to ever say no to her.

Real or not, he goes to her, and soon enough, he falls unconscious, not feeling when his team lifts him out and puts him in the back of an ambulance.

Y/N decided to show up a bit earlier for their lunch date, putting in their order early, wanting to maximize all their time together. She wouldn't see him until late that night, and honestly, she wasn't a fan of being separated on her favorite day of the week.

She sits on a bench right outside, both sandwiches wrapped tucked away in a brown paper bag and a lemonade sitting next to her untouched. It was his favorite, too sweet in her opinion. Still, Harry loved it, especially since he wasn't one to indulge in sweets unless they were hers.

Knowing Harry could be running late, she pulls out a book from her orange tote bag that Harry gifted to her. The book was Beach Read, Frankie recommended it to her then gave her the book saying she needed to read more romance books and not just poetry and nonfiction books. She actually enjoyed it, which surprised her, but even if she didn't, she's too invested to not find out the ending.

She was just starting chapter five when she feels too much time has passed and glances down at her phone.

2:55

25 minutes late isn't bad or unusual even; she decides to put the book away and keep an eye out for him. Usually, when he keeps her waiting, he makes up for it with a long kiss that never fails to take her breath away; she's excited about it now.

Time seems to go slower when she just sits waiting. She debates beginning to eat her sandwich when her stomach starts to growl. It's low, but she would feel bad if she began to eat, and that's when he shows up. She settles for waiting and instead takes a drink of the sweet lemonade.

As Y/N sits waiting for Harry, her phone begins to ring and displays an unknown number but the city's area code. Every bone in her body tells her to prepare for the worst but hopes she's paranoid.

She takes a deep breath before answering and bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, are you angel?" A deep voice man asks.

"It's Y/N. Actually, can I ask who's calling?" She's holding her breath; only one person calls her angel.

"I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Harry Styles. Harry has been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. He asked us to call an angel on his way to the hospital. We assumed you were one of his emergency contacts."

Y/N feels her hands begin to shake. "What hospital?"

The man on the phone rattles the information, and she lets it all sink in. He hangs up, and she sits there waiting on the bench for her date that will not be showing up.

Her phone rings again, she answers without looking at the caller.

"Y/N," she recognized the voice; it's Mitch, and if he's calling, then it must be true.

"Mitch," she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. It's shaky, tears beginning to well up.

"Where are you?"

"At the bistro a street down from the station." She replies, hoping he's coming for her.

"I'm close; we'll pick you up and go see him, darling." She nods but remembers he can't see her.

Y/N isn't sure why she's not crying. She feels the tears, but it's like they are stuck; her heart hurts, and she knows that says enough. "We were supposed to meet for lunch. I got worried when he didn't show up, but I didn't think--" he interrupts her.

"Harry is going to be fine, trust me. He's okay, and he needs us there."

Y/N doesn't reply because she sees him pulling in. Mitch is in the passenger seat, Sarah is driving. She doesn't say a word as she swings open the door and settles in the back.

She sets her hands in her lap; she can feel herself trembling. She can feel herself breaking because she won't know if he's okay until she sees him. Mitch can say he's fine, but she needs to see for herself.

Sarah and Mitch share a concerned look; Y/N doesn't notice her eyes looking out the window.

"Y/N?" Mitch begins, voice full of concern. "Do you- are you okay to go see him?"

"Of course." She replies quickly. "He needs me; well, I hope he does."

"Course he needs you. Needs his angel by his side." Sarah tells her calmly, wanting to see her smile, but it doesn't work because only Harry should be calling her that. She shouldn't be on her way to see him in a hospital bed. She should have seen him next to her on that bench as he ate his sandwich and gave her kiss and kiss as she told him stories.

They are silent the rest of the way. Sarah pulls into an empty parking space, and she rushes after Mitch, who seems to know exactly where Harry is as he rushes past the front desk. The only thing that slows them down is waiting for the elevator; she gladly would have taken the stairs if Mitch didn't tell her that he's on the sixth floor. Instead, she waits impatiently for the old elevator that will take her to see her love.

He is going to be okay. He has to be okay. Y/N keeps those thoughts running through her head as Mitch and Sarah guide her to room 613.

Mitch walks in first, holding the door open, Sarah places a comforting hand on her back, and Y/N feels supported and loved, but nothing prepares her for what she is about to walk into.

The constant beep of Harry's heart monitor is the only thing that can be heard in his private room. The beep is steady; it makes her let out a deep breath. The monitor already calming her down, she approaches slowly as if he'd wake if she'd walk any faster.

She sits in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed and pulls it as close as she can.

Y/N just stares at him, taking it all in. He looks like he's resting peacefully like he should originally have been when they started this day together. His curls are disheveled, his face dirty with smoke stains and a few gauzes wrapped around his arms. She can't see much else but knows he's got a road of recovery still ahead of him.

"Hi, Harry," she whispers, her hand slowly reaching under the white sheet to grab hold of his right hand. "I'm right here, okay. Take your time waking up; there's no rush. Just know that I'm not going anywhere."

She pauses, hoping for a reply even though she knows she won't get one. "We can also discuss how I'm sort of one of your emergency contacts."

Y/N presses her lips to his hand. "Need you to wake up, want to see those Rapunzal eyes." She sits back, not removing her hand from his. Sarah has not taken her eyes off of her, Sarah might feel like she might blow up soon, but being at his side, she has begun to feel better.

"Harry, we're here for you. The whole team is outside in the lobby, probably why they sent us to the floor with the biggest waiting area. Even young Carlos is out there, saying you gave them a scare but really hopes you never pick up another B-shift again." Mitch sniffles before stepping out of the room. Sarah walks over to where he was standing.

"Hey Harold, it's trivia night in a few days, and kind of counting on you to get us those free drinks." Sarah chuckles. "It's been a while since we've been in the hospital. I think it was when I made you all donate blood for that ambulance competition. Fun times, now you rest and get better. The good thing is you have the best nurse looking out for you." Sarah glances at Y/N, sending her a small smile.

Y/N sits back in her chair as Sarah sits in one by the window. She knows she's in for a long afternoon and an even longer night.

Harry's head is throbbing.

He's not sure why. The last he remembers is leaving Y/N's house to go for his shift at the station.

They were meeting for lunch; he's sure she wouldn't let him drink any alcohol on the job.

Harry slowly opens his eyes and is blinded by the bright light. He sees a photo of the sunset right in front of him, and a tv hung up; if he's not mistaken, he's in a hospital room, primarily due to being in an uncomfortable bed. The oxygen mask over his face is also a dead giveaway he was in an accident.

He looks around, and he sees he is not alone. His angel is sleeping, a tight grip on his right hand; she looks exhausted. Mitch walks in just as Harry was about to wake her. Y/N mumbles and sits up, pulling her hand away from his to rub the sleep away. Harry wants to tell her to stop knowing how much it actually irritates her eyes, especially when she tubs a little harsher than usual.

"Were you able to find tea, Mitch?" Y/N asks, looking over at him.

"Sarah's bringing it over." Mitch's gaze never turns to her staying on Harry; this confuses Y/N and turns back around in her seat to look at a resting Harry but instead finds his eyes on her.

"Harry!" Y/N scoots forward, grasps his hand in hers. "You're awake. Mitch, the nurse, please."

Harry raises his free hand to take off the mask. He wants to speak, but this won't allow him. "No, love. Got to keep it on."

Harry's eyes close, then flutter open. He stares at Y/N, his eyes kind but defiant. He takes the mask off, coughing a bit; it makes Y/N feel nauseous, knowing he's not doing so well.

"I think you need to keep it on, Harry." She says, "the nurse needs to see it when she comes in soon."

"Hey, angel," he says in a raspy voice. It sounds like he's in pain when he talks.

"Yes?" She asks.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

Y/N shrugs, "no big deal. I wasn't even scared."

Harry smiles, showering her his dimples since she last saw him this morning. He begins to laugh but stops when it causes him to cough. Y/N lets him settle down before bending down to gently kiss him.

"Now, let that hold you over, and put the mask pack on."

Harry nods. "Anything for you, my angel."

It's a half-hour before the doctor comes in, and by that time, Harry had fallen back asleep, only just waking up a few minutes before the man walked through the door. Mitch alerted everyone outside he was awake and doing good.

Dr. Vazquez walked white coat open, displaying a purple button-up and a bright yellow tie. It puts a smile on Y/N's face.

"Hello, Mr. Styles. Glad you're awake."

"Me too, Doc. Nice tie."

Dr. Vaquez smiles, looking down at himself, "Thank you, my wife picks out my tie every morning before she heads off to work."

"Lucky man," Harry tells him.

"That I am." Dr. Vazquez replies. "You've got a mild concussion, nothing serious, but you are allowed to sleep while you're here. We've got a good team looking out for you. You've got a few burns, but those will heal nicely if properly cared for. A few deep bruises on your leg and one on your rib cage, no blood clots. It will hurt to walk for a few days."

"Nothing too bad, then," Harry sighs, relaxing in bed.

"I've looked at your charts, and it looks like you will be making a full recovery and should be back on the job in three or four weeks. In the meantime, you will need to stay overnight and keep taking in oxygen. I see the nurse changed your mask. Please don't remove this one." Harry nods. "Any questions?"

Harry shakes his head no, "Not at the moment."

"Alright, I'll be off then. I'll come to see you tomorrow midday, and we'll talk about going home. I hear you have a waiting room full of people dying to see; just be aware that visiting hours end at nine, but if you're kind to Nurse Lucy, she'll be lenient to ten."

"Thank you, Dr. Vazquez." Mitch and Y/N say in unison as the man exits the room.

"That's the quietest I've ever seen you, firebug." Harry teases.

"You hush." She lightly pats his arm.

Mitch laughs, "going to go tell them you're allowed, visitors."

Y/N and Harry sit in silence. He can tell she has something on her mind, a slight frown on her face. He wonders if it's about him if she won't be able to handle dating someone who can be hurt by the job. Harry honestly does not want to lose her.

"I'm going to step out," Y/N tells him, looking down at their joined hands, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," Harry sighs.

"You've got lots of people waiting to see you and roughly have an hour to see them all. I'll be close by." She leans down, presses a kiss to his cheek, and walks out before he can reach out to stop her.

She steps out while a few members of his team come in to see him offering her a smile as she passes them. As much as she didn't want to leave him, she needed a moment away, and he needed a moment with his family.

God, Y/N has never felt so scared, and now a minute alone, everything is beginning to set in. She has no idea where the restroom is, and the next thing she knows, she's running into someone, but it seems they recognize her because they say her name, and the next thing she knows, she's crying, sinking to the floor. She feels arms wrap around her.

Shushes in her ear, brushing the ends of her hair. It's calming, but she needs to let all the tears she's been holding in.

"Y/N," she can now recognize the voice as Sarah's, "I'm going to help you stand and sit you in the chair.

Y/N feels herself nod.

She begins taking deep breaths, never letting Sarah pull her hand away. It is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I got her some water." Y/N hears Frankie whisper handing it to Sarah before taking the seat to the left of her.

"I'm okay," she repeats. "I'm okay."

"Y/N," Sarah begins.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetie." Frankie brushes her hair back.

"I'm supposed to be strong; I have to be strong to do this to stand by his side," Y/N tells them, beginning to let her emotions out.

"No one is expecting you not to cry."

"Bu-" Sarah interrupts her.

"No. stop. Accidents happen, and so do injuries. It's okay to be scared and hurt."

"I want to be strong for him." She whispers.

"You are. You never left his side; you talked to him. You're crying now because you care."

She wipes her eyes with her sweater sleeves. "I love him, and I was so scared that when I got the call, I'd never get to tell Harry."

"Then you tell him as soon as you walk back into his room."

"Thank you."

"Nothing to thank, I care about you, and I know Harry would be grateful to know you're not alone. You've always got us. Now let's grab something to eat, and we'll come back in an hour once all of them go home."

She chuckles. "Alright."

"Text me where you're sitting. I'll pop in to see Harry, then meet you."

"You don't have to," Y/N tells Frankie because she knows she is just as concerned about her friend.

"Are you kidding me? You're my friend first, always."

Sarah and Y/N walk down to the cafeteria. She knows she isn't okay but is feeling better, finally letting emotion out. It was only a matter of time before she let the dam break; she's just happy it was not in front of Harry.

The girls sit in the cafeteria munching on snacks for well over an hour. Mitch sends them a message letting them know all the crew has left and it's time to say goodbye for the night. Frankie wishes her goodnight downstairs with promises to come to see her tomorrow and bring her a change of clothes.

"Let's walk you back," Sarah tells her, linking their arms together.

"Do you think he'll know?" Sarah takes a good look at her and grimaces. "I'll just say I tripped, and it made me cry." Y/N jokes.

"I don't think he'll believe that."

"Yeah, me either." The girls walk out of the elevator as their laughter dies down.

They settle in silence as they make their way to his room, Sarah holding her hand leading the way. Mitch is in the chair she was in for so many hours before waiting for him to wake up. Mitch hears their footsteps and turns his head, but Harry is frowning, looking out the window at the dark sky.

Y/N doesn't know what to say, but one look at him has her heart filling up with relief; he's okay.

He's fine, and he gets to go home soon, and she gets to love him all she wants.

Harry turns his head as she steps forward. "Angel," he breathes out.

It makes her eyes well up with tears again. "I love you," she just lets it out, as if she's told Harry this every day as if she never went a moment not saying it.

"Oh my angel," Harry begins to cry, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly happy. His angel loves him, and although this isn't a perfect day, the moment is.

Mitch and Sarah sneak out quietly, shutting the door behind them to give them their privacy.

"I love you so much. Please come here." Harry replies, voice shaky.

In the next second, she's moving forward, pulling the chair as close as she can as he grabs her hands, squeezing them tightly. She leans down and presses her lips to his chapped pink lips. They move gently, pouring all their love and fears into the kiss. Telling each other that the worst is over and they are together, and they are fine. Y/N pulls back, knowing she can't kiss him as long as she'd like due to his sensitive lungs.

"Harry, I love you, and I was so scared I'd never get to say it."

"I'm sorry, angel; I never wanted you to get a call like this, at least not before talking about it."

"Me either," She sniffles, no longer able to control her tears, "but it happened, and I'm just happy you're okay."

"I'm okay," he repeats. She smiles, taking one of her hands out of his hold to wipe his tears away; Harry can't help but lean his head into her gentle touch. "I'm okay because my angel is always looking after me.

"Harry."

"It's true. I've never been luckier and safer since you came into my life." She smiles. "But there's something we have to talk about." He continues, and by the tone of his voice, it's going to be serious.

"Are you okay?"

"What? I'm fine. You're the one in a hospital bed." Her tone is defensive.

"There's something wrong. I can see it."

Y/n sighs, taking a deep breath. She takes her hand out of his hold.

Harry is quick to mask his hurt.

"I don't like that you're hurt. I hate that we aren't at home in the kitchen dancing around to your Sunday playlist as I bake you a new treat." She says in a rush.

"Hey, love, relax," he says and gestures for her to move in closer. She does so, allowing him to take hold of her hands with a firm grip this time.

"You're upset because I got hurt?" She nods in reply to his question. It's stupid because, of course, he's going to get hurt; it'd be naive to think he wouldn't in his job.

"It's part of the job." He says simply. It's something he wants her to accept and remember. She thinks back to a month into dating when he told her about his ex-girlfriend and how she couldn't handle the unknown of the job each day he left her. Y/N thought she'd be fine, but she loves him, and losing him would be something she could never recover from.

"I know. It's just not easy to see." Her voice was quiet and defeated.

"What do we do?" Harry asks, and Y/N freezes; she can feel her heart beating in her ears.

What do we do?

"What do you mean?" She can feel her hands begin to shake.

"This can happen again." He gestures to him in the hospital bed.

"I know." She says softly.

"Is this something you can handle or not?" He asks very direct. She knows this might not be the first time he's had the conversation, but she just told him she loved him, and he's questioning her. She's allowed to feel this way, but it doesn't mean she can't handle it.

"Y/N," he begins, "I'm incredibly happy with you. I see you and me together for a long time. You're it for me, but this job is my life."

"I know," she repeats. "I would never ask you to give up your job."

Harry stares at her; heartbreak passes through his eyes. "Are you asking me to give you up?

She shakes her and begs for the tears not to fall, but it's no use. She feels them falling and can't wipe them as Harry has a hold of her hands.

"Harry, I love you." He frowns as if fearing the worst. "I love you, and I'd rather love you every moment I have you than let you go now and never know what could have been."

"Oh, thank god." Harry lets out a deep breath. She giggles. "I'm sorry we couldn't have this conversation earlier; honestly, I feared if I brought it up, you could possibly break up with me, and I selfishly wanted to have you longer."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, not if it's up to me. Seeing you laid up is hard but knowing I get to be there for you makes up for it. Also helps that I'm a nurse."

"That it does."

Y/n grins at Harry, leaning in to kiss him, short and sweet for now. Each kiss never fails to make her heart race, and due to Harry's heart monitor, she knows it does the same to him. They sit in silence, staring at each other as Harry traces small shapes against Y/N's cheeks, loving the feeling of her in his hand. Especially when she lets out a soft giggle when he hits a sensitive spot.

"Move in with me," Y/N blurts out after a while of silence.

It shocks Harry. "What?"

"Until you're better. That way, I can be your in-home nurse."

"Only until I'm better?" She nods. "So, you'll give me the boot after." Harry teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks warming up but pushes through, "Only if you're a bad patient."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display for her, always for her. "Okay, I can be good and naughty only when you ask."

"Harry!" She gasps.

He throws his head back, laughing.

"God, I'm so lucky to love you." His words warm her heart, and she promises to tell him every day from now on.

"Now get up here and cuddle me. I got Mitch to cue up Netflix."

"Are you sure?" She stands slipping her shoes off, knowing he won't be taking no for an answer.

"Going to deprive an injured man of what he wants most?"

"Guess not."

"Good."

Y/N crawls on and lays on his side, carefully resting her head on his chest. Harry presses kiss after kiss for his comfort, knowing he will be okay and has his favorite person by his side. She chooses Legally Blonde knowing it's Harry's comfort movie as much as he tries to deny it.

For an unusual start to their Sunday, it ends right; together in bed, a hospital bed but nonetheless a bed, together arms wrapped tight around each other.

Y/N might not have liked that Harry got hurt, but he's okay, and he will recover.

That's all she could ever ask for.

thank you so much for reading!

please send me a message of what you thought or if you'd like to see more firefighter harry

I adore you. take care xx

[letarasstuff]

Notice me!

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it1

Summary: Teenagers at JJ's daughter's school get attacked. Does she fit the victomology?

Warnings: feeling uncared for

Wordcount: 2.7k

✨Masterlist✨ ___________________________________

“Good morning, my lovelies. The good news: The case is local. The bad news: Somebody is attacking teenage girls from the same high school”, Penelope starts the briefing, dressed in a bright pink dress with matching accessories.

“Are they from the same class? Age?” Hotch asks, looking over the file. Upon opening her own, JJ feels like her heart stops. “Negative, the three girls are from different years even. The only connection is the school.” “It’s (Y/N)’s school. She-she is a Junior there. I-Hotch?” Desperately she looks at her boss.

The team’s eyes soften. It’s already difficult with minors involved, but when it gets personal the case is a thousand times harder.

“Call her and tell her we get her to answer a few questions. At this point we can be sure it’s someone from the staff or a student. Time is the essence. Reid and JJ, you get (Y/N). Morgan and Prentiss, you question the first two. Dave and I take the last one and then go to the crime scenes. Garcia, I want you to find out anything about the victims and their families. Check their social media sites and look out for anything that connects them”, the Unit Chiefs orders.

Everybody gets up immediately. JJ has her phone already at hand. The longer it takes her daughter to take the call, the more nervous she gets.

“Mom? Did something happen? You know exactly I’m at school. I don’t wanna get in-” “Honey, Uncle Spence and I come to get you. There is something we have to question you about.” The teenager is silent for a moment. “It’s about the girls that got beaten up, isn’t it?”

Her mother sighs. Of course nothing like that stays quiet for long. “Yes, it is.” JJ doesn’t see the point in lying to her. “Ok. Uhm, can you just question me at school? I really don’t wanna leave, because I have soccer practice after school for the game this evening.”

A little light blinks at that in JJ’s mind. “Isn’t it that important game, where scouts are coming?” (Y/N) begins to smile. Her mother remembers it. Maybe she does pay attention to her. Maybe, just maybe, she pays enough to come and see her. After all she even took a day off for Henry’s recital last time.

“Yes, you said you will come and cheer for me.” JJ’s heart aches. She knows that her oldest often backs down due to her mother’s job. More often than the blonde agent likes to admit she has stood her daughter up to save someone’s life. “I try to be there in time, Honey. I can’t promise you anything, though. Just let us hope we solve this case quickly, ok?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders drop. Of course, how could she be this naive to think her mother cares enough to at least try to make it to her probably most important game? “Alright. Text me when you are here or just get me excused at the secretary's office. Bye.”

JJ looks at her phone in puzzlement. The teenager always is understanding of her job and the sacrifices it takes. One night under a lot of tears she confessed to her mother that everytime she is away on a case, she is in the greatest state of worry. Will reported repeatedly that (Y/N) is miserable whenever her mother isn’t at home.

So she told her daughter about the pact she made with her sister. Any time they miss each other, they go out and look at the moon, knowing that they see the same. JJ also admitted that she and Henry are the reason she is even working as a profiler. The agent wants to make the world safer for her kids. A safe space, where they can grow up and go to the park without worrying about Stranger Danger or anything else.

“Is everything ok?” Spencer asks as he sees his best friend frozen on the spot. JJ looks up to him, spotting concern in his eyes. “Yeah, no. I don’t know? It’s just, (Y/N) has an important soccer game tonight with scouts coming and such and I’m not sure if I can get there in time because of the case. She sounded really sad when I told her that. You know, I’m incredibly proud of her for getting this far and she plays really well. Scratch that, she is amazing. Especially knowing (Y/N) is responsible enough to think about college in her junior year makes me swell with pride”, she gushes unknowingly.

Spencer smiles. “I see, she is just like her mother. I’m sure (Y/N) will come around, she loves you so much and knows how difficult our job is.” JJ nods, trying to believe him.

Not long after that the duo enters the secretary’s office, explaining the situation. He immediately notifies the teenager’s teacher and a few minutes later (Y/N) opens the door. “There is an empty classroom we can use, I already asked Mr Boyle. He is such a sweetheart”, she tells her mother and uncle.

“Thank you for consenting to answer our questions. (Y/N), do you know the girls?” Spencer begins after settling down. “I do. One of them, Amy, is on the soccer team with me. We mostly talk about her family. She is in love with her little sister. The other two, Rosa and Gina, are in Freshmen. I tutored Gina briefly until her mother said she doesn’t need it.”

Unfortunately (Y/N) isn’t able to tell more useful information. “Thank you so much, Honey. Have fun at your practice later”, JJ tells her while embracing the teenager. “Yeah, thanks. Do you come home tonight?” Her mother sighs.

“I get it, you don’t know. Ok, I don’t wanna interfere any longer. Maybe you are able to solve the case faster. Stay safe. Love you!” Quickly she picks her bag up and leaves the room.

JJ looks at the genius with a face that says “Do you know what I mean?”

“My lovelies, all three girls don’t have the best connection to their parents. They often complain about the missing approval. Do you think that it’s a kid from their classes?” Garcia informs them as the team gathers back around the round table.

Rossi shakes his head. “The crimes are too organized for a kid. Every girl was drugged, but we don’t know how. Then the UnSub waits for the drug to kick in and takes her to a vacant spot, where the beating occurs. And all of this happens right after classes end. It has to be a staff member, probably a teacher.”

“Yeah, but there is one detail that doesn’t sit right with me”, Derek pipes up, “The connection between the girls is the bad relationship with their parents. It has to be someone, who is reminded by their own dysfunctional family.”

“Garcia, look for someone from the area, his comfort zone shows that he knows remote areas that you don’t find by accident. He has to be from D.C.” Spencer instructs her.

“Okidoki, boy won- Wait, are we looking for a male?” Hotch nods. “We are, the amount of strength used to beat up the girls suggests a male, same with the amount of hatred.”

Emily looks unsure. “This sounds all right, but why is he choosing the girls? What does he relive by hurting them? How does it help him?”

JJ wants to partake in the mindstorming, but a ping from her phone distracts her from saying her thoughts out loud. It’s a text message from (Y/N)

If you find the time in your busy schedule to read this, be informed that Will and Henry won’t come to the game tonight, because Henry has a spontaneous playdate. Don’t worry, he brought me my inhaler to school already.

(Y/N) sighs after sending the text. Is it really too much work for her mother to make room for her? This is probably the most important event in her whole school carriere and she decides that a team of masterminds need her more than her own daughter.

Hurt by the clear ignorance she shoulders her bag and makes her way to the counselor’s office.

“Come in”, a warm voice invites the teenager after her knocking on the door. “Hey, Mr Pembroke. Uhm, I have a class before soccer practice and I wanted to ask you if I can put my bag here? I know I got a locker, but I still got my mom’s birthday present in there and I’m scared I’ll leave it in my classroom and have to run back to get the bag if not another kid already took it away.”

Mr Pembroke looks at her with a smile. “Of course, (Y/N), I don’t mind. Speaking of your mother, will she be there tonight? I really hope so, because you are a star on the field. She’s missing out otherwise.” At the end he winks. He is just that kind of guy. Working with kids makes him desperate for appearing younger than he really is, but that is also part of Keith Pembroke’s charm.

“Unfortunately my whole family isn’t able to come. It is like- I mean I get it, serial killers are dangerous and it’s important and the right thing to chase them down. But do I not deserve some time with my mother?” Mr Pembroke evolved into a moral support over the past school year since he started his job at (Y/N)’s high school.

He always has something noice and wise to say. “You do. Everybody deserves some time with their family and especially with their parents. Why don’t you talk to them after all this is over? I can help you work on what you can say.”

Happily the teenager takes the offer and rushes to her class.

“Guys, I might be onto something”, Spencer rips everybody from their train of thoughts. JJ looks at the watch on her wrist. (Y/N)’s game ends in about five minutes. And she sits here, stumped one the case she stood her up for.

“So we thought about how he chooses his victims. The only connection we found was them having a bad relationship with their parents. But how would the UnSub know? They didn’t share any classes.

“But there always is one person, who knows about the student’s problems. They tell them voluntarily”, he finishes, giving his colleagues the opportunity to answer it themselves.

“The counselor!” Rossi exclaims, wondering how they oversaw the obvious.

Penelope’s keyboard is practically on fire from her fast typing until she nearly shouts: “I got him! Keith Pem-” The rest goes under in the loud ring from JJ’s cellphone. “I’m sorry, but this is… (Y/N)’s school! I-” Hotch nods, giving her permission to take that call.

“Jennifer Jareau?” She can’t wait until she is out of the conference room. Now that they know who the UnSub is, JJ is more on edge than ever. “Uhm, Mrs Jareau, I call about your daughter, (Y/N). She is on her way to the hospital, she collapsed during the soccer game. We suspect an asthma attack, even though she used her inhaler.” The teacher on the phone gives her a few more information before hanging up.

“I-I’m - (Y/N), she is- hospital. Her inhaler.” In that moment she makes all the connections. “Garcia, look for the girl’s medical history. Pembroke exchanged (Y/N)’s inhaler, I’m sure he did. Look for it in the other girls. I have to go, she is at the hospital right now.”

In a way even Derek Morgan would describe it as reckless JJ speeds to the hospital, ready to fight any regulations keeping her from seeing her daughter sooner. “I’m here for (Y/N) Jareau. J-A-R-E-” She tells the woman at the reception breathlessly.

“Oh I got her. She is in room 99. (Y/N) was unconscious for a certain amount of time, but she is slowly regaining her senses. A doctor will meet you there.” Before she even finishes her sentence, the blonde leaves the desk into the direction of the appointed room.

In fact there is a doctor waiting for her, updating the mother on her daughter’s condition. “I advise you to not overwhelm her. Her mind is still foggy and there may be things that don’t make sense right now coming from her. But (Y/N) will make a quick recovery, being good as new in only a matter of days.”

Cautiously she enters the room. The teenager might be awake, but her mind clearly is elsewhere. “Hey, Honey. It’s me, your mom. How are you feeling?” JJ asks softly, taking her daughter’s cold hand into her own gently.

“Oh, hi Mom. I didn’t know you found the time to actually come here. Isn’t there like a bad guy out there waiting for you to slap some handcuffs on him?” Ouch, she doesn’t expect that kind of honesty. But it’s true and JJ knows what (Y/N) is talking about.

She sighs. “I’m sorry, Honey, for being seemingly absent from your life. I swear, you can’t imagine how proud I am of you. I mean, you play soccer and there might be a scholarship in sigh. And even if you don’t get one, you can do anything and I would still be proud to call you my child.”

(Y/N) turns her head around, looking deeply into her mother’s eyes. The blonde can see all the pain she brought onto her bundle of joy. “Mom, I don’t even enjoy soccer as much as you think. I only do this, because I thought there would be finally something we can bond over. But I clearly didn’t calculate your stupid job in.”

JJ kicks herself for overseeing her daughter this much. She never stopped to acknowledge her oldest child’s accomplishments in front of her team and family. She always told everybody in the BAU what (Y/N) is up to, if they asked or not is not her problem. But in the whole process the agent forgot the most important person, the one who reached all those goals.

“Oh Honey, I’m so sorry for letting you feel like I don’t want to partake in your life. I- I was just so invested in your life that I didn’t think about you. You don’t have to do anything that I like to get my attention. You can join the school band playing the triangle and I would practically make t-shirts for the whole team sporting your logo.

“Anything you do is enough for me. You don’t need to change yourself to appeal to others, not even me. I’m sorry for letting you down. I love you so much and I hope you can forgive me.”

It seems like (Y/N) needs a few seconds to comprehend her mother’s statements before answering them. “I just need a mom, who is there more often. That would be enough for me. Just once every three games is enough. To let my friends know you care. To let me know you care.” JJ gets tears in her eyes. She promises to be there more often, fully intending to keep that promise.

“Good, now that we have that sorted out I need you to come into bed with me. I feel I could sleep for at least a year because of Mr Pembroke’s really weird tasting substance in my inhaler. Can we just cuddle until I feel like I’m my old self?” JJ smiles while happily laying down next to her daughter, engulfing her in a hug, still being cautious of all the tubes she has going in and out of her.

“I love you so much, Honey Bun”, the blonde murmurs, stroking a few strands out of her daughter’s face. But (Y/N) is too tired to answer. She just nods and cuddles closer to her mother before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, JJ watches over her like a hawk. Not even Will is allowed to come closer to her than two meters (or roughly six and a half feet for Americans), not wanting anyone to disturb her daughter’s peaceful sleep.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[charlie-rulerofhell]

For they know exactly what they do

Today there was a pretty long article published in the German newspaper FAZ, written by Julia Schaaf. Since there were quite a few interesting topics raised in it and Måneskin talked about some new aspects (or in more detail), I translated the whole thing (it might also have helped me to procrastinate).

Full interview in English under the cut.

For they know exactly what they do

June 22, 2021

Four young rock musicians from Rome are today's hottest band. Måneskin are enchanting Europe. Why? We met them for an interview.

Every romance needs its founding myth, an anecdote from the beginning, something you can tell later in more difficult times for self-assurance.

In the case of the band Måneskin, who first had Italy and now half of Europe wrapped around their fingers, and who are now trying to conquer the rest of the world with their rock music, there is the story of the shoe box. Rome, around five years ago: Four teenagers who are meeting every day after school in their rehearsal room to make music together, and sometimes they play their songs on the Via del Corso in the city centre in front of a changing audience. One day they want to record their own stuff. They find a studio that they can actually afford and as they go there they bring a shoe box, with the name of the band written on it, 'moonshine' in Danish, the bassist's mother is Danish. In the box: around seven kilogram of coins. The things you get from playing music on the streets. Everyone searching through Instagram for photos from that time can find four hippies with children's faces, three boys in batik, the girl is wearing a straw hat.

As they have to pay [for the recording], frontman Damiano David, 22, says that there was this guy, Angelo, and his bandmate Victoria De Angelis, 21, is interrupting: “No, Andrea, not Angelo”, and all of them have to laugh because a rigid studio manager with the Italian name 'angel' would be even funnier for a founding myth. David continues his story: “The guy was completely dumbfounded. 'We can't do that.' We went: 'Sure we can, that's worth the same even if it's just 20 cent coins, it's still 300 euros.” Thomas Raggi, 20, the guitarist of the band, is gasping for air as he laughs, while drummer Ethan Torchio, 20, is smiling dreamily. David finishes: “And then we snuck off before he was able to count it.” [the German text says 'verdrücken' here which is just a colloquial way of saying 'we left', but it entails some sort of a dramatic exit, so yeah, let your thoughts get creative how they left exactly :D].

Four young musicians on the verge of global fame are sitting on a white interview sofa in Berlin, completely styled, babbling across each other like overeager teenagers.

Ever since the Roman band first won the music festival Sanremo and then also the Eurovision Song Contest, carried by the enthusiasm of European viewers, you could say Måneskin has become a phenomenon. “Rock 'n' Roll never dies!”, Damiano David yelled fueled by the adrenaline of winning, and the insinuation that circulated on social media of the singer snorting during the counting of votes in front of a live camera – including their strict denial followed by a negative drug test result – might have given an additional boost to their public interest, their exploding album, ticket and merch sales, and their outstanding success on Spotify.

“We think it's a shit prejudice against rock music that there always have to be drugs involved. We fully threw ourselves into our participation with the utmost professionalism. We give everything for the music. So of course we don't want people to think that we can only do that because we take drugs.” – Victoria De Angelis

Prior to Eurovision, Måneskin was more of an insider's tip outside of Italy. Handmade rock music, not creating something entirely new but paying homage to the good old times with classic guitar riffs and cracking drum beats, being a lot of fun but also quite fragile and vulnerable at times and, first and foremost, conveying a captivating energy. Finally, on the stage of Rotterdam, live after so many months of isolation and renunciation, this wave of energy spilled straight over into European living rooms. It seemed easy to (mistakenly) interpret the winning song “Zitti e buoni” (Shut up and behave) as a declaration of frustration of our youth in times of a pandemic. In fact, singer Damiano David is singing about the favourite topic of the band: the unrelenting need to, against all odds, be yourself, despite or perhaps because you are different. The message fits their provocative sex appeal, which the band uses to demonstrate their independence of gender norms at any given time. But the core essence of rock music has always been the promise of unlimited freedom.

Thus at the first moment, the meeting with Måneskin is kind of startling. It's Wednesday, we are in the top floor of the new Sony head quarters in Berlin. The four Italians have just started their two-week long promotion tour through Europe. In the afternoon there will be a live concert in a queer club [the SchwuZ, but that's not mentioned here] in Neukölln, which will be streamed via TikTok. Around one million viewers will watch the show, some of them even from Brazil, so people at Sony are pretty excited [for Måneskin to come here]. But at first, these stunningly gorgeous creatures [yes, that's the exact wording :D] are standing surrounded by an entourage of people – their management, PR team, a stylist, a photographer, people who can hold a smartphone or a cigarette if needed [this paragraph is worded a little weirdly, especially taking into account that basically their whole team / 'entourage' is just friends of them, but it seems like the journalist didn't know that or maybe they just wanted to describe their first impression]. They seem like fictional / artificial characters out of a Hollywood movie. Transparent frill blouses with blazers and flared leather trousers, even the platform boots, everything brand-new, the makeup makes their faces look like a glossy magazine cover even in person. The smokey eyes of De Angelis and Raggi make them look smug and bored. Later, on the pictures it will probably look cool.

So of course your first impression might be: This band is under contract to industry giant Sony ever since their success on an Italian casting show [X Factor] in Winter 2017. The music industry must have its hand in the game when a band is photographed half-naked by Oliviero Toscani and styled by Etro. Also, one does not simply rent a villa with a pool in Rome to produce new music there, isolated from the rest of the world. And who else went to London for two whole months, shortly before the winter lockdown, just for inspiration? After the TikTok concert in Berlin – De Angelis and David are now wearing fishnet shirts that sparkle with every move, their bare nipples covered with an X of black tape – the band is posing with a few influencers. In the world of social media you would call that 'producing content'. But what does that mean for a band who are preaching their hosanna of authenticity? How authentic is Måneskin? And is their pointedly casual approach to sexuality and gender cliches in today's pop-cultural spirit more than a marketing strategy?

We're in the interview, the recording device is running for not even five minutes, when Victoria De Angelis says: “Actually, we just try to be ourselves and do what we really want to do.” And really: The more you listen to those four how they speak about the early days of the band in their slurred Roman dialect, about the shoe box and their own experiences with being different, but most importantly about their shared obsession [with music], the more you realise that [De Angelis] is  very serious. Ethan Torchio, who got his first drum kit at the age of six or seven from his father because he was beating everything he could reach, says: “For me, music is like food. I cannot live without it.” The bassist next to him laughs at his pathos. Singer Damiano David applauds the otherwise more reserved friend for his truthfulness [it says 'klarer Punkt', meaning 'for the point he makes', but it makes it seem like Damiano is agreeing with Ethan here, although it doesn't indicate whether he agrees that yes, music is everything for Ethan or that he understands and feels the same].

De Angelis and guitarist Raggi already knew each other from middle school and they were the ones who tried to form a band at the age of only 13, a band that actually took music seriously.

De Angelis: “It's just difficult at that age to find other people who really put everything into music and who truly commit themselves and are willing to invest a lot of their time.”

Raggi: “We set strict rules and scheduled fixed times for the rehearsals, for every day.”

David: “Fever, stomach ache, there was no excuse. Even if you were feeling sick in the rehearsal room. At least you were in the rehearsal room.”

The way the four of them talk across each other, completing each other's sentences, taking turns in talking and sometimes joking about each other, seems intimate and playful. Singer David remembers how at first bassist [De Angelis] was merciless towards him when it came to her first metal band project, as she told him that he wasn't committed enough [to the music]: “Back then I was still playing Basketball. I was one of the people that Vic absolutely didn't want [in her band].” Drummer Torchio was later discovered through Facebook, even though there had already been a drummer, a close friend, but he was not good enough. It seems as if even back then music was everything for them. Even if it meant that only Raggi managed to graduate.

And why rock, why rock music of all things? Because it's great, the four of them say in unison. David adds: “Actually, it's a genre that allows you to do everything you want to do.”

When they played on the street, they were laughed at by their classmates. But not only there. De Angelis explains that she never wanted to be a typical girl: “I was always deterred by those stupid boxes that people put you in, and that are just restricting and constraining you, because something is only regarded as male or female. I always rejected that. Instead, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed doing, I went skating and played football.” Torchio says: “Friends who are not friends anymore were already telling me at the age of ten that those“ – he grabs his long, silky black hair – “were wrong. Because I'm a boy and boys are meant to have short hair, long hair is only for girls. I was bullied a lot for that.”

“Compared to the past, people in our age became much more open-minded. It gets better.” – Thomas Raggi

Frontman David on the other hand, for whom eye shadow, jingling earrings and nail polish as well as his bare torso with the tattoos have become trademarks by now, says: “I was actually more of the average boy.” De Angelis convinced him to try out some eyeliner, which he describes as a spiritual awakening: “I liked myself much more [with makeup]. I saw myself more as myself. As if it had been a suppressed desire of mine.” On a trip to Copenhagen with the others, when he realised that it really didn't matter what people were thinking about him, he got his first fake fur [coat? the article doesn't specify that] in a second-hand shop and let his clothing style be guided by his own love to experiment: “I realised that my whole life I was just going at half speed.” When it comes to diversity all four of them are becoming almost missionary.

At the same time, their success is not only opening doors for them. Back home in Rome they are barely able to go out on the street due to all the paparazzi. “[You need a] hoodie and huge sunglasses”, David says, “the mask is quite helpful, too.” And still, none of them is complaining, and Torchio explains why: “Even if those experiences right now may have sides that are not so pleasant, we still know that for us a dream is coming true. We experience something that we always had in our minds, so we are willing to face every consequence that this entails.”

So is the band facing difficult times, is Måneskin going to change with all the success? Again, all of them answer at the same time.

David: “I'm not worried about that.”

Raggi: “No way!”

De Angelis: “On the contrary. Everything that happened to us happened because we are who we are, so we want to continue the exact same way and stay ourselves.”

Just a few hours later, they are at the stage in Neukölln, bouncing around like pinballs, hammering at their instruments, flirting with each other. “We are out of our minds, but different from the others”, David sings their winning hymn against conformism, and: “The people talk, unfortunately they talk.” Here on stage, the four paradise birds [a German word describing someone with a flamboyant personality] with their half-nude-glittering outfits are radiating an incredible energy with the utmost sincerity, and you begin to wish there was a live audience instead of the TikTok cameras, absorbing and spreading this energy. Måneskin. A cry for a life after the pandemic, a cry for freedom and a better world.

“We do what we wished for all our lives.” – Ethan Torchio

[legends-live-in-memories]

Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.  

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.  

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”  

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.  

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

[knchins]

Manager’s Special - Seijoh 4

Summary: Being the manager of Seijoh University's boy's volleyball team meant filling their every need. But can you satisfy all four seniors at the same time or will you break trying?

Pairing: Oikawa x Fem!Reader x Iwa x Mattsun x Makki

Rating: E+

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings:  Degradation/Humiliation, Oral sex (giving/receiving), Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Triple? Penetration (I technically don't view this as triple but some might), Squirting, Vaginal/Anal fingering, Unprotected sex, Gangbang (obvs), Blindfold usage, Spit (just a little), A smidgen of dubcon if you squint, Overstimulation, Mindbreak??, Aftercare, and Oikawa being a total Asshole

Notes: This is completely self indulgent and I don’t apologize for it one bit.

 Since earning the head manager position of Seijoh University’s boys volleyball team, you had learned to keep a tight schedule. It could be very hard work at times, but honestly it was very rewarding and the experience was worth the late nights and early mornings. It was an honored title that many girls strived for year after year. You had been merely an assistant your first two years of college and now, finally, your tenacity had paid off. You were number one and with it you held a whole new set of responsibilities.

 Because while you did the duties of a normal manager, at Aoba Johsai, female managers also held a very...important role. They were in charge of making sure all of the senior players kept their head in the game and stayed at the pique of physical fitness. This meant that you were in charge of making sure all of their needs were met.

 Every. Single. One.

 And you had quickly found that the four seniors you were in charge of satiating this year were particularly hungry for one thing and one thing only. You.

 Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa all had their own unique interests and tastes. They fought for your affection, sometimes making you feel pulled into four different directions at once. It got so bad that they had to roll die to see who could have you first. There were prime time slots in your schedule, after all, and everyone wanted to be the one to hold it. Weekends were especially cut throat among them and it was finally decided on an even rotation. Oikawa, since he was the captain, got the first weekend. Mattsun was second. Iwaizumi third, and lastly Hanamaki. You never had a moment to yourself it seemed like. The core four took up the entirety of your free time.

 But you knew what the job demands were before you took it. You agreed to this. If only you had known how draining it would be. You couldn’t have imagined the sexual appetites of athletes being this overwhelming. If only there was time to recuperate. Time and time again they worked you to tears. Multiple times a week you’d be left overstimulated and so incredibly full of cum. But none of that could have prepared you for what they had in mind for this particular Saturday.

 Makki was supposed to come over to your apartment alone that evening. You had the scene set the way you knew he liked it. Lights dim with a plethora of candles scattered across the bedroom. There was chilled sparkling water set on the bedside and a new bottle of lube. You had taken time to shower, scrubbing every inch of you clean for him. After drying yourself off, fixing your hair and putting on light natural looking makeup, you stepped into a nice little sheer white baby-doll nightie with nothing but a sea foam green thong underneath.

 After a look-over in your floor length mirror, you smiled with satisfaction. Makki was the gentlest of the four and usually he pampered a little more afterwards. It was the only time you get any semblance of rest. Maybe you could convince him to go easy on you too. Take things slow. He was the easiest to reason with and you had been looking forward to this all week.

 There was a knock at your front door and immediately you were thrown off. Each player had a unique knock to them, and what you just heard wasn’t Makki’s. It was the captain’s. Holding back a groan you padded to the door and looked through the peephole, seeing all four seniors gathered in the hallway.

 Confusion washed over you as you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. Oikawa looked particularly proud of himself, something that had your thighs clenching out of sheer habit. “Oikawa-san? Did something happen?”

 Iwaizumi forced the door open, making you take a step back as all four men walked in, putting down their things in the entryway before Hanamaki closed the door. They deposited their shoes at the doorway before Oikawa gave you some sort of answer. “I hate to do this to you, Cutie, I really do, but there’s something your Captain wants you to do for him.”

 His eyes scoured every inch of your body, making you suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. His tongue swiped over his lips, his facial expression absolutely predatory. Your cunt was already aching at the thought of him pounding into you. “W-What is it?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

 Oikawa began to circle around you as you noticed the others begin to slip off their shirts. You swallowed thickly, unable to look away from the sheer amount of tone muscle present before you now. You began to chew on your bottom lip, the taste of your lip gloss crawling onto your tongue. “We decided that we all want a turn with you tonight.” He said, stopping behind you and putting his hands on your hips. He pulled you back to him and you could feel his half-hard cock rutting into your ass as he leaned to speak in your ear. “They don’t think you can handle it, but I can.”

 He pressed a kiss just under your ear, teeth grazing the skin there as you felt the flimsy fabric of the thong dampen with your arousal. All four of them? At once? Your head span as you tried to conceive it, but the captain’s cock grinding into your ass was almost too distracting. He knew exactly what he was doing and you hated him for it. “I don’t think I- Ah!” He bit at your pulse point and you felt her knees begin to tremble from the sheer anticipation of him being inside you.

 One of his beautiful hands moved to push up the lightweight fabric of the baby-doll, his index finger finding your clit expertly and pressing into you with just the right amount of force that had you keening back against him. “Don’t you want to prove them right, my little manager? What happened to all of that ambition?”

 Three pairs of eyes were devouring you as Oikawa continued to press kisses into your throat. They all looked so starving. So      needy    . Who were you to deny your team? Your body was for their taking, that was what you had wanted since you were a freshman right? And now, with Oikawa’s fingers working over your swelling clit, mouth taking claim to your neck, you have no drive to tell them no. There was no chance of you resisting them. You sank into Oikawa’s hold and he knew instantly that you were admitting defeat. You’d take on all four of them, even if it broke you.

 Oikawa dragged you into the bedroom, his right hand never leaving its spot between your legs. When he finally released you, he pushed you gently onto the bed so that he could take off his shirt. The other three came into the room, Makki had already stepped out of his pants and as in nothing but his socks and boxer briefs.

 You turned onto your back, looking absolutely doe-eyed at the large men before you. Again you kept your legs pressed together, rubbing slightly to try and create some kind of friction that would lighten the ache in your core. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Iwa pull something out of your top drawer, and again you swallowed as you knew there could only be one thing he’d be looking for in there. The black silk blindfold you kept stashed away.

 “Hajime, please,” You cooed softly, feeling fear bubble in your abdomen at being blinded. He ignored your quiet plea, knowing that there wasn’t nearly enough fight behind it to be an actual revocation of consent. He came closer to you, making it easier for you to see the outline of his erection in his pants as he covered your eyes with the cloth and tied it around the back of your head.

 “Good thinking, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chirped as he took off his pants. “Let’s play a game then, shall we, Manager-san?” He asked, glancing at the other guys. “If you can guess whose dick is in your pretty little mouth then you can get a reward. How does that sound?”

 His irritating voice did nothing but ignite your desires even further. You were pretty certain you knew each of them well enough by now to be able to tell the difference between the four. Besides, Oikawa always held to his word and rewards with him often meant a very intense orgasm.

 You felt a hand grab you by the shoulder and by the softness of it, you assumed it was Oikawa’s. His hands were always the most meticulously kept out of all of them. He forced you to your knees and your mouth opened as you presented your tongue to whoever was first in line.

 Mattsun decided to take initiative, his cock already out as he stroked it. He stepped up to you, guiding the tip into your warm, beckoning mouth. He clenched his teeth together to keep from making any sort of sound that may give him away. Although, he already had a disadvantage. Mattsun was the biggest lengthwise and second only to Iwa when it came to girth.

 He was unable to stop himself from sliding as much in as he possibly could, his tip rubbing the back of your throat as his hand pressed onto the top of your head. His hips rocked slowly, pulling him out a fraction before rutting back in. You swirled your tongue around him, suckling lightly (though it was enough to finally pull a groan from him). You were about to reach up and grab onto his scrotum when Oikawa stopped you. “No touching, Cutie.” He chided and you put your hand back down.

 After a minute of you attempting to work him over without the help of your hands, he pulled from you completely. Oikawa asked you who it was as you were unable to stop yourself from coughing with newfound freedom. After you had collected yourself, you finally answered him with a small smile. “Issei.” You said happily, knowing you were right.

 “Good job.” Mattsun breathed out as he stroked his length to keep it from going soft. “Maybe that was too easy for you, doll.” You shook your head, trying to deny that it wasn’t easy for you to figure it out. None of them believed you.

 The next cock to enter your mouth was slimmer and you quickly narrowed it down to either Makki or Oikawa. They were almost identical, though there was one difference that would give it away. One of them had a small scar at the base of their penis where they had a shaving accident in high school.

 You greedily took him in, drool spilling over your lips and down your chin as your tongue searched every centimeter for the small white line of tissue. You tried to mask what you were doing by sucking and moaning at the small thrusts, the pubic hair at the base ticking your nose as he forced his tip to your throat. He suddenly pulled out, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself any longer if he didn’t. “Takahiro.” You said before Oikawa could ask.

 Makki let out a small laugh. “I guess you know me too well, huh?” He asked, not expecting you to actually answer. You smiled, reaching up to rid your chin of the spit that had made its way down it. Though you were somewhat positive that it would be replaced very quickly.

 “Alright, princess, so no one gets left out you’ll do Iwa-chan and I at the same time.” Oikawa said and a small frown formed on your lips. There was no way      both     of them would fit inside of your mouth. How were you supposed to do this without your hands?

 Iwa huffed, obviously not wanting to share your mouth with his best friend but nevertheless not objecting to it. They both stepped before you. “Can I at least use my hands this time, Captain?” You asked, head tilted upwards as if you were looking up at them.

 “Yes, you can use your hands this time.” Oikawa said back, placing a delicate hand on top of your head to rub it soothingly. You were doing such a good job for him and he was making note to make sure you knew that next time you were alone together.

 Again you opened your mouth wide. Oikawa nodded to Iwa who gave a shallow thrust into your mouth. Your hand searched up the leg of the person to your left, finding the shaft of his penis and stroking it. The telltale ribbing of a small scar at the base of it. The same scar you had been searching for when you were blowing Hanamaki. Not only that but Iwa’s girth gave him away. Oikawa was slender and pretty, Iwa was thick and veiny. Telling the two apart was almost like night and day.

 You bobbed your head, keeping the same pace with your hand giving them both a moment to enjoy the sensation before switching sides. You kept one hand on the base of each cock, making it easier to switch quickly between the two. When you had finally set what you thought was the perfect rhythm, a steady hand stopped you. “Who is who?” Oikawa asked in a chipper voice, never one to be upset when his dick was getting serviced.

 “Tooru-kun, you’re on the left.” You said, “Hajime is on the right.”

 Oikawa chuckled, “Wow, what a good little manager you are. You know us all so well. Are you ready for your reward?” You nodded your head enthusiastically. “Alright, get up and lay back on the bed we’re going to take good care of you.

 He grabbed your hand, helping you to your feet and guiding you to the bed where you laid down. He wasted no time in reaching up and grabbing the thin elastic of your thing and sliding it down your legs, enjoying the sight of the middle sticking to your slick folds for a moment before pulling free.

 Mattsun took position to your right, Makki your left, and Iwa was hovering over you, grabbing either of your thighs and spreading them. His calloused hands felt like a stark contrast from Oikawa’s, a feeling that made you shiver and clench around nothing. The blindfold was taken from your eyes at once by Makki.

 Tooru lowered his face to your core, giving you a nice slow cat lick up your slit that had you quaking in Iwa’s grasp. Mattsun forced the top of your babydoll down, freeing your breasts from the see-through material. He ran a thumb over your right nipple while Makki began to kiss along the swell of your left breast.

 Your brain was in overdrive at all the different sensations going on. Oikawa’s tongue pressing into your folds, Iwa’s mouth peppering kisses along your thighs as he held them apart. Matsukawa’s fingers massaging your breast firmly while Hanamaki is sucking hickies into your other one. There was just too much going on, you felt like you were going to short circuit already. Every inch of you was quivering with delight.

 Oikawa latched onto your clit like a leech, sucking so roughly that he pulled a loud moan straight from your throat. Your hips bucked, kegels flexing as you nearly creamed then and there. Iwa bit into your thigh, the pain ripping through your leg. You cried out, trying to squirm out of his grasp but it was of no use. He was stronger than you by a long shot and there was no way you could possibly overpower all four of them at once.

 “T-Toru p-p-p-please!” You cried, tears filling your eyes as Mattsun’s mouth replaced his hand. You just needed something, anything, inside you. You didn’t really care what at this point.

 He removed his mouth from you, a lewd popping sound came as a result. He knew exactly what you wanted, a lecherous smile on his wet lips. “You gonna beg me princess?”

 Your reply came in a whimper, Mattsun’s teeth grazed one nipple as Makki was sucking on your other one, tongue swirling as if he were attacking your clit instead. “I-I need yo-you inside.” You pleaded with him, the desperate need to have your pussy filled growing even more. “Your fin-fingers. Ah!” You tossed your head back as Iwa licked at your clit now. It was hard to concentrate on anything, especially getting the words you wanted out.

 Oikawa was extremely proud of the sight before him. Iwa’s sideways position gave him enough room to slip in two fingers into your throbbing cunt, The long, slender digits going in gently and deeply. “My, my, Manager-san. My fingers are waterlogged in this cute pussy of yours. Are you that desperate to get off?”

 You were unable to respond, too busy concentrating on grinding your hips against Hajime’s mouth and his fingers at the same time. Oikawa pulled his fingers out before inserting them back in, they slid with ease due to the amount of slick that had accumulated between your legs. Your eyes were rolling back, body jerking beneath the three boys that were hovering over you. All coherent thoughts were gone as the team captain because to thoroughly fuck you with his fingers, his vice captain’s tongue tracing fast shapes around your sensitive clit. That along with the two mouths on your chest had you crying and cumming in no time at all.

 Oikawa pulled his soaked fingers from you, inserting them into his mouth to clean them off with his tongue. He savored the taste of your cum, giving a small hum of appreciation at both the taste and the sight of you panting and teary-eyed. “Is our little cum dumpster okay? We haven’t even filled you up yet.”

 The sarcasm of his voice and sudden removal of Iwaizumi’s grip had your legs slamming shut, not wanting anyone to see how turned on you still were. How much you still needed them to satisfy you. The slutty desperation making your heart pound even harder within your chest. How much more of this relentless teasing could you take before breaking completely? You had no idea. “Fill...Fill me up, Captain.” You said between heavy breaths, eyes glossy with saline and want.

 He laughed, “Makki, tonight is supposed to be your night. You can choose what order we go in.” At least Oikawa could be fair when it came to his teammates. Too bad he wasn’t when it came to you.

 Hanamaki thought about it for a moment. “We should switch halves. Mattsun and I will fuck her while you two can have her hands and mouth.” He brushed your hair back, a small smile on his face. “I know she can take it.”

 He maneuvered himself so he was laying next to you so you could climb on top of him. Your teeth sank into your lip again as you positioned his tip at your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. You couldn’t stop the moan from seeping out between your lips in the process of finally feeling completed. Makki pulled you down by your arm so your chest was against his.

 You hadn’t noticed Mattsun get up and grab the bottle of lube. He generously coated two fingers as he got behind you. He watched as Makki’s dick spread your lips apart, his dick disappearing inside of you in slow shallow thrusts. His own cock was throbbing painfully at this point, begging for release.

 Instead of touching himself, he inserted his two fingers into your ass. You let out a hiss of pain, the muscles burning at the sudden stretch. Hanamaki was whispering sweet things into your ear to help distract you, telling you how good you were doing for him. How amazing your soft pussy felt wrapped around him so tightly while Iwa was positioning himself at your head, stroking his cock is a slow languid motion.

 Oikawa had grabbed his phone and was now recording. He enjoyed nothing better than humiliating you by filming you in compromising positions. Most of the nights alone with him involved some sort of video equipment. Despite being hard and dripping precum onto your carpet, he seemed to totally ignore his erection and focus only on getting the perfect shot of you pleasuring his team.

 Mattsun continued to prep your ass, feeling your muscles beginning to relax around him. Makki kept his rhythm light, not wanting to jostle you around too much while his friend was getting you ready. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as you whimpered. He was being so gentle, too gentle. That wasn’t what you wanted. You were craving Mattsun’s brute force, the little whimpers coming from you only proving how ready you were.

 “Don’t leave her waiting, Mattsun.” Oikawa said. “She wants you to fuck her ass, can’t you see how much she needs it? Little cumslut can’t get off to just Makki treating her like a princess”

 Mattsun tutted, removing his fingers so that he could lube up his cock. Again he watched you take in every inch of Hanamaki like such a good little girl. He spit on your ass, letting it slide down your crack as he pressed his tip into your anus. Hanamaki was still as his friend pushed into you, leaving delicate kisses along your jawline.

 He let out a loud groan as his balls came into contact with your perineum. You fluttered around both of them, taking the moment to adjust to having two dicks inside of you instead of just one. And Mattsun was so big you thought he might rip you apart.

 Iwa was growing impatient, he pressed his tip against your lips and your tongue darted out to taste his precum. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as you opened her mouth fully for him. Makki and Mattsun still weren’t moving yet, simply enjoying the feeling of your body heat warming up their cocks.

 You tried to move your hips to feel something, anything. The neediness growing ever wilder within you. Oikawa watched with great delight, enjoying the muffled torture sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked on Iwa’s dick. “You want them to move, sweetheart?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice that was definitely anything but sincere.

 You whined loudly, despite your mouth being full. You attempted to nod your head but it was slight due to not wanting to hurt Iwa by accident though your teeth did graze him and he gave a warning tug on your locks. You looked up at him with an apologetic expression, gargling out a sorry that wasn’t really comprehensible.

 “You heard her, Matsukawa.” Makki said, his once sweet voice going sly. “She wants us to move.”

 Mattsun laughed darkly as he pulled back slowly before jerking his hips forward, roughly slapping into you. Searing heat and pain caused tears to once again spring to your eyes as Hanamaki began to move in sync with him with an almost equal amount of force. It took a moment for them to stop fumbling awkwardly with one another, trying to find a going pace that worked to both of their advantages. Once they found it though, it was nothing but bliss. Both your pussy and ass being fucked simultaneously while your mouth was stuff full had your eyes rolling back and drool slipping down your chin again.

 “Fuck it’s so tight.” Mattsun moaned, smacking your ass with a harsh slap before rubbing the area. “Why have you never let me fuck your ass before? You’ll be lucky if I ever use that used up pussy again.” He growled at you, making the welling tears finally fall down your face. They dripped down onto Makki, though he didn’t mind much at all.

 Iwa was forcing more and more of himself down your throat, gagging and choking you in the process until you could barely breathe. He was taking the liberty to fuck your mouth, allowing you to simply be another hole for his pleasure instead of an active participate in getting him off.

 Oikawa grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his dick. He knew you wouldn’t be able to stroke him due to your fucked out state of stupidity. He moved your hand for you, keeping it steady as he bounced his hips against your grip. “I get that ass next.” He said, “Iwa-chan, you can have Makki’s hole. I want her so full of cum that she won’t stop leaking for a week.”

 Makki increased his pace, forcing Mattsun to do so as well. The two dicks rubbing inside of you have a fast knot tightening in your lower abdomen. The thing that finally did you over was Makki reaching between the two of you and teasing your clit with the pads of his fingers. You were screaming around Iwa, eyes shut tight as you came for a second time, both holes spasming around your partners, pulling moans from them as you sucked them in more. It was enough to drive Makki to his peak as well, releasing inside of your cunt while Mattsun thrusted wildly, the sounds of his balls slapping against you was the loudest thing in the room at the moment. It only ceased when he finally came, pumping your ass so full of semen that it seeped out around his base.

 Iwa pulled his dick from your mouth and throat, allowing you to gasp and sob. You were already so incredibly overstimulated, you couldn’t imagine having to go yet another round. But you knew your captain and vice captain wanted to get off too. Oikawa’s dream of making you the sluttiest little cum dumpster in all of Japan was quickly coming true.

 Mattsun pulled out of you, enjoying the view one last time before stepping back and disappearing into the bathroom to clean up. Iwa moved to the side, ready to fuck you senseless again with growing impatience. Makki took one last breath, gave you one last sweet kiss, before slipping out from under you.

 Oikawa handed his phone to Makki so he could continue to film while he positioned himself under you. With Iwa’s help he had you sitting up and turned around so that your back was to him. “I think Mattsun lubed you up enough, Manager-san, don’t you think?” He asked, tip probing your dripping ass before suddenly dipping into you without warning. You cried out, almost not believing just how easily he slid right in. Since he was a bit smaller than Mattsun, it didn’t hurt at all for him to be inside all at once. The former had stretched you out too thoroughly.

 Iwa also wasted zero time in plugging you up, stopping anymore of Makki’s cum from escaping you. You were still crying and shaking, too overstimulated to say anything that made sense. Unlike Mattsun and Makki, they didn’t need time to sync up into a nice rhythm. They both went in hard and fast, almost competing with one another on who could be the most brutal.

 Oikawa’s hands were on your breasts, pulling at your nipples, “What a good girl, taking your captain and vice captain like this.” He said, holding back his own moans as he whispered into your ear. “Our little good luck charm. My cute little slut, you’ll do anything I ask of you won’t you?”

 Your answer was a strangled moan, throat still sore from Iwa’s previous abuse. You could tell Oikawa was struggling not to cum. Whenever he got too excited he had the tendency to lose control.

 Once again Iwa had a bruising grip on your thighs, keeping them nice and spread so he could easily see his handiwork, watching you take his thick cock as if it were nothing. The squelching sounds you were making had you feeling incredibly embarrassed, the way the previous boys’ cum had acted as lubricant for the two new ones. Oikawa and Iwa were pumping in and out effortlessly, working you over once again.

 “Iwa-chan, but your thumb on her clit, I bet she’ll squirt all over us if you do that.” Oikawa said, nipping at your ear as he tugged on your nipples again. Iwa reached down, pressing his thumb against the engorged bud and rubbing in fast tight circles. Your back arched, more sobs erupting as you felt another overwhelmingly powerful orgasm rip through you. You couldn’t stop the release of ejaculate as it squirted out of you, showering all three of you in the process, though Iwa got the brunt of it.

 Oikawa was laughing harshly, “Fuck princess, you’re just so goddamn dirty aren’t you? You like being stuffed like this? Will you ever be satisfied with just one again?” You shook, collapsed on top of him, unable to make any sound or even think straight. Your walls were still fluttering around him, hips jerking in tune with their thrusts. Iwa’s nails dragged across your skin, the pain not even enough to cause you to yelp like you normally would. A few pumps later and he was adding to the mess with his own cum, the warm liquid filling your pussy so beautifully for him as he pulled out.

 “Best for last.” Oikawa hissed, Flipping over so he could ravage you at a whole new angle. You couldn’t even hold yourself up, he had to do it for you as he rammed into you over and over. He wasn’t holding back anymore, hell you didn’t even know he      was     holding back before. He chased his own high, hitting his peak and pumping you full of even more white creamy liquid.

 He pulled out and gently laid your hips down onto the bed. You cried into the sheets, still feeling jerky from your own string of orgasms. It was over? Finally? You couldn’t believe that you had actually survived all four of them at once.

 Oikawa and Iwa began to clean themselves up as Makki put his captain’s phone away and went to pamper you with kisses. He turned you on to your back and spread your legs just enough so he could clean you up the best he could. Parts of the bed were soaked unfortunately, but Mattsun brought a clean towel to lay down over the puddles, moving you so that you were on top of the towel instead of the wetness.

 “Don’t forget, Makki, make sure she’s up tomorrow for practice.” Oikawa said in that sing-song voice of him. “Maybe we can have a round two in the equipment room.”

 You whimpered in protest as Hanamaki held you close to him. “He’s joking, love, don’t worry.” He whispered to you softly, knowing you were too outdone to do it again so soon.

 Iwa punched his shoulder roughly, “leave her alone, asshole.” He said threateningly, coming over to plant a light kiss on your forehead. “If you can’t come tomorrow, don’t stress it.” He said quietly enough that the only other person to hear him was Makki. He straightened up before shooting a glare at Oikawa.

 Oikawa frowned a bit at him before walking over to you. “Good job, princess. I knew you could do it. You made your captain so proud tonight.” He cooed softly, petting your head. “I’ll call you in the morning to check on you.” He placed a kiss identical to Iwa’s onto your forehead. “Makki is going to take good care of you tonight.” He assured before standing up once more. “Let’s go, Iwa-chan. I’m hungry.”

 The two started bickering as they left. Mattsun cleaned up around the room a little more before, wishing you a farewell before leaving. Hanamaki continued to whisper to you about how amazing you were and how thankful he was for letting them do this. He didn’t stop until you finally lost your battle with sleep, cuddled up next to him and clinging to him for safety.

 And the next day you definitely didn’t show up to practice.

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Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawksward​, @drxwsyni​

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | two

A/N: Thank you guys for all the positive feedback on Part One!  I’m so happy you guys are enjoying the series thus far.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                  *     *     *     *     *

Brock Boeser was intoxicated by the feel of Grace’s lips.  It was all he could think about and all he could feel every time he was alone and closed his eyes.  Well, that was a lie – that wasn’t all he felt.  Sometimes he could feel the weight of Grace’s body on his lap, like when they would make out like teenagers on each other’s couches after hanging out or before hanging out or during hanging out – any time, really.  Sometimes he could feel her long hair sprawled across his chest from when they lay in bed together.  Sometimes he could hear her giggle or see her smile or hear her voice being the kindest, most polite and gentle person on planet Earth to everyone and anyone she’d meet.  

For what it was worth, Grace Gillespie was intoxicated by the feel of Brock’s body.  It was all she could think about every time she was alone, and she found herself dreaming about the next time she’d be able to feel it.  His strong arms with his toned biceps; his abs, defined by a work schedule and sport that took up most of his time; his thick thighs…but what she loved most had to be his back.  It was weird for her to say, but it was.  It was the definition – she could see every muscle.  She could trace every bump with her fingertips and make him shiver.  The entirety, all of him, was just so…beautiful.  

It was Grace who had inadvertently given it away, so to speak – them seeing each other – when she uploaded a story of herself at the Canucks season opener.  The rumours started in no time.  The story was screen-recorded and posted on every blog imaginable because Brock Boeser was, well, Brock Boeser.  He was hot, and nice, and sweet, and every girl in Vancouver with even just a passing interest in hockey wanted to hook up with him.  It was also compounded by the fact that in the 90s the Gillespie’s put in a bid to own the Canucks.  Grace just tuned it all out.  Brock Boeser Dating a Billionaire’s Daughter!  Those who loved alliteration must have loved the headlines.  In any case, there were more important things to worry about, and more important things to dedicate her time to.  

Grace was at work when she got a call from Brock.  That meant the team flight had landed and he was probably still at the airport or had just gotten into his apartment.  She liked how her heart skipped a beat whenever he called.  “D’you want to meet some of my friends?”

That question took her for a loop.  “Who?”

“My friend Elias, but we call him Petey.”

“You mean Elias Pettersson?” she clarified.  

“Yeah,” he giggled slightly.  “He’s been fancying himself a chef lately.  He lives with his best friend Svea.  He wants us over for dinner.”

“Is he making Swedish food?”

“Don’t know.  I’ll confirm with him.  But is that a yes?”

“Well, if he’s cooking…”

***

“You told her what?”

“Petey—”

“Boes, I can’t fucking cook!” Elias exclaimed once it dawned on him what Brock had just done.  “Why would you invite her here?!”

“I wasn’t thinking—”

“Clearly not!”

“What’s all the commotion?” Svea asked as she emerged from “her side” of the apartment, hearing the screaming between the two men.  It wasn’t exactly new, to hear Brock and Elias screaming at each other, but it was usually over video games.  This sounded like something different.  

“Brock just invited his new girlfriend over to our place for dinner,” Elias huffed.

Svea furrowed her brows.  “What’s wrong with that?  We’ve been wanting to meet her for a long time, Elias.”

“Brock said I’d be cooking,” Elias deadpanned.

Svea turned to Brock with an emotionless look on her face.  “Are you dumb?!” she exclaimed.

“Sveeeeeeaaaaaaaa,” Brock pleaded, his hands clasped together, about to get on his hands and knees in front of her.  

“You need to fix this Svea.  I can’t – I can’t – I can barely even boil an egg!  What made you think I’d be able to cook a dinner to impress a girl I’m not even trying to impress?!” Elias demanded.

“Shut it, the both of you,” Svea said sternly, raising her hands slightly.  “When is she coming here?”

“Saturday night, after our game against Toronto.”

She took a deep breath.  “I’m going to make sausage stroganoff.  You better bring me a good bottle of wine,” she glared at Brock, “and you better go to the Swedish bakery to get the good Swedish sausage,” she directed towards Elias.

Brock fell down to his knees.  “Thank you Svea.  Thank you thank you thank you.”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved them off.  “Now if you’re going to play video games, keep your voices down.  I’m studying.”

When he heard her shut the door to the den, Brock looked at Elias.  “When are you gonna marry her?”

Elias huffed.  “She’s my best friend, Brock.”

***

“So they’re best friends from Sweden,” Grace wanted to make sure she got everything right before she met Elias Pettersson and Svea Nilsson for the first time.  “But you’re saying they’re in love with one another and don’t know it?”

“Exactly,” Brock nodded his head.  “You’ll see it within, like, a minute of meeting them.  They’re just…I don’t know, dumb.”

Grace giggled slightly as Brock pressed the number for Elias’s floor in the elevator.  The doors shut and soon they were speeding up.  “Does anyone else on your team know about us?”

“Some of the guys I’m closer with do,” Brock said.  “Troy, Thatcher, Marky…they all know about you.  Do your friends know about me?”

Grace snorted.  “I told them about you after that first night at Starbucks.”

Brock laughed, leaning down to give her a quick kiss.  “That eager, eh?”

“When you know, you know,” Grace said.  “You know, don’t you?”

Brock nodded.  “I know.”

That was the beauty of what they had going.  They just fell in to everything.  There was Starbucks, then there was exchanging of their numbers, then there were texts back and forth, and phone conversations, and the rush of everything else.  It was quick but it was organic.  Nothing was rushed.  They were going at the pace they wanted to go.  There wasn’t even a heart-to-heart sit down or discussion about “where they stand relationship-wise” or “Am I into this more than you?”.  It was just…understood.  They knew.  They were exclusive.  Neither was seeing anybody else.  Neither wanted to see anybody else.  It was what Grace knew a healthy relationship should blossom into.  It was what Brock knew he wanted from another person.  

Elias opened the door to the apartment, greeting Grace sweetly before walking them in to the kitchen and dining room, where the table had already been set – no doubt done by Svea, too.  Grace noticed that Svea, the roommate, was the one cooking instead of Elias, and she was absolutely mortified.  She made sure to make her way into the kitchen once Brock punched Elias in the gut about something.  

“Hi I’m Svea,” Svea introduced herself sweetly as she was whisking a sauce in a deep saucepan.  She had on an apron and everything.  “It’s really nice to meet you.  I’m sorry that I look like a mess right now.”

“I’m so sorry – Brock said Elias was cooking tonight because he fancied himself a chef – I didn’t want to put any pressure on you—”

“Oh no no no!  Don’t worry!” Svea waved her off.  “God, are you kidding?  I wouldn’t want Elias to make you anything.  He might give you food poisoning.”

Grace giggled.  “So what’s on the menu tonight, anyway?”

“Sausage stronganoff,” Svea replied.  “It’s a Swedish dish.  Elias’s favourite, actually.  I thought I should make you Swedish food.  You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

“No,” Grace said, smiling from ear to ear.  “Sounds delicious.”

***

“They’re definitely in love,” Grace said once she and Brock walked out of the front doors of Elias’s condo building.  Brock turned towards her dramatically, his eyebrows raised, about to throw his arms up in the air.  “It’s so obvious.  So obvious.”

“I told you!” he exclaimed.  

“Why aren’t they dating yet?” she asked.

“Beats the shit out of me,” Brock said, shaking his head.  “But they’re meant to be together.  It’ll happen eventually.  I just don’t want to wait until I’m, like, forty to see it.”

Grace smiled, and there was a moment of silence between the two as they walked along the street.  “Can I ask you a question?  About things happening eventually?”

“Sure…”

“D’you want to meet my dad?”

The words hung in the air as Brock considered the magnitude of what Grace was asking him.  “You want me to meet your dad?”

Grace nodded.  “I think he’ll really like you,” she began.  “And my dad always, always wants to meet my boyfriends.”

“So you’ve had loads of other boyfriends?” he quipped.

Grace went to punch him in the gut, much like Elias did just hours earlier, but Brock dodged her easily and ended up grabbing her hand instead.  “Of course I’ll meet your dad,” he said, softer this time, as he stepped into her personal space and wrapped his other arm around her body.  “I’d love to.”

“Listen, I know I don’t have to warn you about what you’re gonna see when you get into the house, but—”

“Shhhh…” Brock cooed, bringing a finger up to her lips before leaning down to kiss her.  “When you want me there?”

“How does Sunday Night Football sound?”

***

Brock had never seen such a beautiful modern mansion so big in his life.  He’d trekked up to North Vancouver, to the address Grace gave him, and came face to face with a mansion overlooking the water.  It was stunning.  Fit for a billionaire, Brock thought.  He wondered if Grace grew up in this house or if it was new.  It looked new.  And judging by its style –a bungalow – it was fit for someone who needed access to everything they needed on the same floor.  Someone living with Parkinson’s, of course.  

He rang the doorbell.  After about a minute, the door opened and an unfamiliar face greeted him.  “You must be Brock?” the woman asked, the door still only half-open.

“Yes ma’am.”

She opened the door fully.  “I’m Angeline.  I’m one of Mr. Gillespie’s caregivers,” she informed him, stepping aside so he could step into the massive foyer.  Brock could hear the TV on in the distance and the clinking of some dishes in a faraway kitchen.  “You’ll also meet Dana and Michelle, Mr. Gillespie’s others.  He’s been expecting you.  He’s been very excited to meet you.”

Brock slipped off his shoes, making sure not to drop the bottle of wine he brought (for reasons unknown; it wasn’t like Hamish could drink – it was just that him mom taught him never to show up to someone’s house empty-handed).  “Oh, really?” he asked.

Angeline nodded her head.  “He hasn’t been quiet about it since Grace said it to him.  Plus, he’s a big Canucks fan.  Let me bring you to him.”

Brock followed Angeline through the house until they got to the family room.  It was massive, like everything else in the house, with lots of space.  When he walked in, he saw Grace and Hamish.  Their backs were to him, so he was able to observe them before they saw him.  Grace was sitting right beside him in his chair, holding his hand as they paid attention to the football game just about to start on the screen.  Grace was making some comment about the teams.  Brock could see Hamish turn his head slowly to look at his daughter and nod.  Everything about the set-up – Grace, Hamish, their positions, what was on TV, everything – reminded him of he and his dad.  Even the handholding.  Brock didn’t think he even held his dad’s hand as much when he was a kid out in public than he had the last few months – few years, really.  Duke was really into the handholding.  Brock could never, would never deny him.

Brock was soon snapped out of his trance by the sound of footsteps.  One of the other caregivers walked right past him holding a plate of puréed food, bringing it to Grace.  It was only then that Brock noticed the TV dinner table beside her.  “She likes to feed him whenever she’s here,” Angeline said, noticing Brock’s staring.  “If you need any help you can always call.  We will be somewhere in the house,” she said before walking away.

Brock took a deep breath and walked towards Grace and Hamish.  Upon hearing his footsteps, Grace looked his way.  The smile on her face widened ten times over when she saw it was him.  “Hi Brock,” she said softly, getting up from her seat quickly to greet him.  She kissed him quickly behind her father’s back (quite literally) before moving and settling back into her chair.  “Dad, Brock is here to meet you.”

Brock stepped into Hamish’s line of vision.  So that he wouldn’t have to strain his neck to look up, Brock bent down on his knees.  “Hi Hamish,” he held out his hand for a handshake.  Slowly, Hamish’s hand came up to shake it.  “It’s very nice to meet you.  Grace has told me so much about you.”

“It’s…nice to…meet you…too,” he said, his words coming out slowly but surely.  “You…like football?”

Brock smiled.  “I love football.”

“Minnesota?”

“Minnesota.”

A smile crept onto Hamish’s face.  “Good.”

***

Hamish wanted ice cream, so Grace got up and went to the kitchen, leaving him with Brock as they watched the football game together.  Minnesota was winning, which made her dad pretty happy.  And despite everything, she could tell he liked Brock.  She knew he would – everybody liked Brock, he was the sweetest – but it made her happy knowing that he liked him.  There were some ex-boyfriends of hers that he didn’t like.  Some ex-boyfriends he straight-up disapproved of.  Hamish had strong opinions and vocalized them always, and the Parkinson’s didn’t stop that.  He didn’t create a three-billion-dollar company by being quiet.

When she finished putting the ice cream in the bowl, she began to head back to the family room.  Dana stopped her momentarily to tell her that her dad’s bed was ready, whenever he was tired and needed to change into his pajamas.  Grace thanked her, and before she could even step foot into the family room, she heard Brock’s voice.  “Back straight, Mr. Gillespie.  And let me get the straw.”

She stopped in her tracks so neither could see her.  She watched from the side as Brock took the glass of water her dad had been drinking with dinner and brought it up to his lips, steadying the straw so it faced him.  “Take your time, Mr. Gillespie.  It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Mr. Gillespie.  I’m used to this.  I’m not sure if Grace told you but my dad has Parkinson’s as well,” Brock said.

Hamish seemingly forgot about the water and straw.  “He does?”

“Yes sir.  And I help take care of him too, in the off-season.  Just like Grace helps take care of you.”

Hamish brought a hand up slowly and placed it on Brock’s arm that was resting on the arm rest.  “Does your father…ever speak…of his body…betraying him?”

Grace watched as Brock took a deep breath in.  “All the time,” he nodded.  “Ever since he got diagnosed.”

Hamish nodded slowly.  “You and Grace…” he began, “taking care…of your parents.  You’ll…you’ll look after one another.”

Brock nodded again, more assertively this time.  “We will,” he said, bringing the water and straw closer to Hamish.  He pursed his lips to start drinking, and Brock brought his other hand up to steady Hamish’s head and make sure it was as upright as possible.  Hamish’s hand didn’t leave Brock’s forearm.

[ushidoux]

Be My Last - Iwaizumi x  Reader (Pt. 2)

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~2.3k words)

Warnings: nsfw, poor communication tbh, angst?

A/N: There’s always trouble in paradise.... 

So I haven’t written a plot-heavy fic in a while. Anyway, I hope this is as dramatic as I intended it to be but not excessive.

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

---

Your phone vibrated loudly, nearly falling off the edge of your office desk but before checking the text, you were already scooping your personal items into your messenger bag and rising to leave the office.

Iwa had intended to meet you after work to grab dinner together before going home, and you quickly glanced at your phone to confirm his arrival while you made your way down multiple flights of stairs (turns out having an athletic trainer as a boyfriend made you a lot more fitness-conscious) to meet him in front of the large skyscraper.

You met him only slightly out of breath, hoping he hadn’t waited long, and he grinned as he saw you, arms uncrossing to take your bag from you and greet you with a kiss on the forehead.

“How was today? More good news?” You inquired cheerfully, linking your arm around his tightly as you started walking. He hummed, his pace still leisurely and his other hand casually resting in his pocket in mock humility.  

“What, I haven’t impressed you enough?” He teased with a laugh, earning him a playful slap on the shoulder. Learning that he was going to be head athletic trainer for the Japan National Volleyball Team just last week was still fresh, and while you were excited for him, you were a tiny bit apprehensive about how much it would change his schedule. Even though he was already quite busy, you’d gotten used to Iwa’s schedule being predictable and being home every night, especially once he’d moved in with you about a year into your relationship.

While this new position was the biggest event on the horizon, quite a lot had changed since you’d met Hajime and lowered your emotional defenses to let him in, and that simple fact was evident by the way your hand unconsciously snaked down the length of his arm to interlace your fingers with him, as you continued to tell each other about your days.

He’d always impressed you from the very moment you met him. His confidence, his pure kindness and his genuine love for you were only a few of the things that made you love him wholeheartedly. The only regret that you had these days was that you hadn’t met him sooner, or rather, first.

Now, back in the quiet of the apartment you’d lived in for almost four years now, you and Iwa were locked in an embrace shrouded by the steam of an excessively warm shower. Despite the fact that you felt heavy with a generous dinner, the current somewhat pleasant turning of your stomach had more to do with the expert way Iwa’s fingers worked your center without compromising attention to your lips and tongue.

Soft moans of his name earned you the privilege of being gently lifted and pressed back against the shower tile, to leverage you steadily against the pressure of his heavy cock pushing past your walls into you as many times before. 

He always knew where to touch and what to fill. 

It occurred to you again as he coaxed one orgasm then another out of you with firmly delivered strokes, aided by the slick coming from your legs and the water that ran over the two of you, that you loved him. Fully and without reservation.

Especially when he pulled back to look at your flustered, wanting face, slightly tilted upwards to look at him with eyes enamored, your body fitting him like a glove, and you could practically see his heart swell.

A reckless, all-encompassing sort of love.

---

“This is… a lot of food,” your friend pointed out with raised eyebrows as she watched you toss possibly a 15th packet of thinly sliced marbled beef for shabu shabu in your cart before moving along to the condiment section. You were grateful that she was accompanying you on this errand because even though you enjoyed grocery shopping, it seemed like you’d been here for a lot longer than you expected and you weren’t too familiar with most of the ingredients on the long grocery list you’d brought with you.

Besides, the cart was overfilled and you felt that eventually you’d need two hands to push it.

“Iwa wants to invite I don’t know even know how many hungry athletes into our tiny apartment, so I’m just trying to be prepared,” you shrugged.

“By buying the entire butcher shop?”

“Yes.”

“He better be paying at least, this looks expensive,” she murmured, only to open her mouth in a teasing ‘O’ once you flashed Iwa’s credit card in her face with a grin.

Amused, she tossed a pack of vermicelli noodles in the cart then let out a loud, wistful sigh before leaning on the shopping cart handle. You frowned in response, knowing exactly what that sound entailed. 

“So when did Oikawa say he’d be back?”

She let out an aggravated groan. “Not for months and then by the time the Olympics start, he’ll be even more busy… This shit is so annoying, to be honest. It’s like he’s never off season!”

You tiptoed to reach a highly placed bottle of shoyu and another of rice vinegar and drop it in your cart. You sympathized with her frustration, you had known intimately once what it was like to be made second priority, even if that wasn’t your life now.

“At least you know he would still choose you over volleyball, no matter how much he loves it,” you reassured her.

You had said the statement without any deeper intended meaning, but when you turned your friend was still eyeing you carefully, concern written in her knit eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she replied, deciding to drop it. But two paces later, she paused to a standstill, and asked, “Do you know exactly who Iwa is inviting over?”

You shrugged your shoulders again. “Honestly, I don’t care, it’s not like I follow sports anymore.”

To that, she replied with a soft hum of assent before choosing to talk about dessert instead.

---

Seated at a corner table at the small coffee shop at the base of his hotel, Ushijima Wakatoshi looked carefully at the email invitation, noting the address more carefully this time, a wash of unsettling nostalgia rushing over him.

You wouldn’t notice it from the neutral expression on his face, but ever since he had made it back to this side of Tokyo, the concern of going back in time and revisiting old mistakes weighed heavy on his mind. Of course, he was excited about his new accolades and the opportunity to represent his country nationally, but with few people to share that news with, the reminder of what he had sacrificed to get here seemed less like a badge of honor and more like a condemnation. 

For someone who insisted on moving forward, no matter what the pace or price, this was a particularly unwelcome feeling. 

And of course, this sentiment was made way worse when it occurred to him that he was being invited to his old home as a guest. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure - while the apartment building itself was definitely the same one where he had lived so many years ago, he wasn’t completely sure whether or not the floor and suite number were the same. It would be an odd coincidence that Iwa lived there too now, but it was a nice apartment building after all, so he assumed it must be a popular place to live.

Still, he couldn’t help the mild uneasiness he felt at the prospect of turning up on that street.

What if by some unfortunate twist of fate, he ran into you? Whether in the lobby, sharing the elevator, maybe even in passing at the konbini where previously he’d surprise you with a custard taiyaki or melon bread to eat in the dead of night... What would he say? What could he say?

He had once practiced some silly assortments of words, many times ages ago when the ache in his heart for you became too much to bear and he thought maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too selfish to ask to come back into your life. He would come up with ways to explain why he’d decided it was better to remove himself from your life altogether over putting aside more time for you, or to explain that he’d made the decision for both of you in order to free you to be loved properly by someone else. 

But the more time passed, the more ridiculous it seemed for him to try to ask you to forgive him for breaking your heart, and now three years had gone by. 

Was three years enough time for you to forgive him for ending things without explanation? Or for moving out of your apartment while you stayed over your best friend’s house for an entire weekend so that he wouldn’t see you cry?

Ushijima took another sip of his coffee. He was overthinking it; the similar address was just a happenstance. You had probably long since moved on from that apartment just like you’d moved on from him.

---

Paper plates, forks, knives and napkins were set aside on your living room table, and you’d cleaned out the patio to allow for more space on the thankfully warm spring evening. Iwa had rushed out with a kiss on the cheek to go get some ice after helping you set up everything, and now you were waiting, hotpot soup base boiling on the stove.

You’d finished just a half an hour before six, and you leaned over the kitchen counter to browse through your text messages. One had just popped up from your friend before you heard an early knock on the front door.

Surprised at the prospect of someone showing up early, you put down your phone and sauntered over, and without even checking the keyhole to see who was standing there, you swung open the door wide, cheerfully giving a warm “Welcome!”, only to find yourself staring your ex-boyfriend in the face.

There was a pause where it seemed like everything that kept your heart beating and your neurons firing had turned off for the split second it took you to recognize him. This was disregarding the fact that he too looked like all the blood had drained from his face when he also realized you were standing right before him. 

“___…,” he pronounced in shock.

The sound of his voice calling your name made your heart pound and your head pound and quickly, impulsively, you moved to slam the door.

Reflexively, he blocked it with his palm, not meaning it as aggression, but spurred by the fear of immediately being locked right back out of your life, where he belonged.

“Wait, can we please talk?”

The desperate tinge to his voice was too much to bear.

It had been three fucking years! Why now?

But instead of forcing the door closed against him again, you found yourself running into your bedroom and locking the door behind you, heart pounding in your ribcage in a frenzy. It was hard to think, maybe you were being a little bit too dramatic, but you couldn’t help the panic pumping through your veins.

Relax, relax, relax.

Ushijima, too, immediately forgot that this was no longer his home.

Even if he knew this place like the back of his hand, he recognized the same sofa in the center of the living room, where he’d held you and had you just like every other place in this wretched space, it was no longer his.

It didn’t stop him from breaching the entrance without your invitation, boldly following after you just to knock on the bedroom door that kept you safe and secure, begging for your attention.

“Please, ___. Please, can we talk?”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that he was in fact in the right place, this was his - no, your shared apartment - and traces of another man, Iwaizumi, were all over it.

Your voice was choked up in your throat but you weren’t yet crying, however you were terribly frustrated. Frustrated that three years after a breakup you were taking shelter in your own bedroom all because your ex showed up at your door. Frustrated that he wasn’t being mean, but instead he was being kind; in fact, you were worried there was a wisp of something more you could see in the pained look he had on first regard.

Too much.

Ushijima knocked again.

“Please.”

The correct thing to do would be to face him properly and ask him to take a seat and maybe if you were feeling extra generous, ask him how he was doing politely, limiting yourself to polite conversation, but instead you didn’t say a single word, biting your lip to hold back anger and hurt.

Three years and you were still like this.

“___!”

His voice raised this time, and again the desperation was clear and tugging at your heartstrings, but you would be damned if you were going to move from this spot. He didn’t bang on the door though - Ushijima always had too much self control to do anything fear-provoking out of anger, but he let out a heavy sigh you could hear directly from the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry-” 

Whatever he planned to say was cut short by the slam of the front door and Iwa’s harsh voice yelling, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Your eyes grew wide as you heard the shuffle of quick moving feet and the thud of bodies hitting the wall, and then you realized that what this looked like was way worse than it actually was.

You fumbled to unlock the door only to see Ushijima pressed against the wall, hands to his side but fists clenched as though he were deciding whether to fight back; you could tell Iwa had already landed a heavy blow from the red spot blooming on his face, and the fact that Iwa still had a solid grip on the collar of Ushijima’s shirt, his fist still dangerously close to his face.

“Hajime!” You yelled, pulling at his arm. “Stop!”

He resisted your plea for him to stop initially, and you could tell he was seething even if he was still. Who wouldn’t be, if they thought their girlfriend was being accosted in their own space?

“T-toshi wasn’t going to do anything… we’re exes.”

Exes?

Iwa gave you a blank look, taking in the info all at once, but what stunned him the most at this very instant was the painfully familiar way you’d said Ushijima’s name.

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

SapioSexual

★☆ AN: So, this prompt is dedicated to anyone attracted to nerds and science. Look I’m terrible at chemistry so I made Kuroo a jack of all trades while still being ace at chemistry. Also, thanks to @succulent-momma​ and @drabbles-blurbs-words​ for editing this for me.

★☆ Summary: It’s not Kuroo’s fault, not really. It’s not his fault that every time he opened his mouth to talk like that you just wanted to throw yourself at him. 

★☆ Warning: Explicit sex, Size Kink, and Rough sex. Read at your own discretion. Kuroo x Fem Reader. 

★☆ ★☆ ★☆ ★☆ ★☆ ★☆ 

Kuroo considered himself fairly handsome and was well-liked by most people. Except by his teammates who nicknamed him "demon captain". And of course, Kenma who would frequently throw some jabs his way. But he was nice to girls. In fact, he was a gentleman to every girl he met, only accompanied by mild playful teasing when the moment required it. Most girls, in his humble opinion, wanted his attention and frankly desired to date him. Except for Y/N.

He would never forget that particular day in 2nd year when she turned him down in front of his team. Kuroo and Kenma were heading home after volleyball practice accompanied by Yaku and Yamamoto, who were heading out as well.

Kuroo, noticing Y/N, called out, "Y/N-chan!"

Y/N turned around to see Kuroo waving at her, to which she only frowned in return.

"So, Y/N-chan, when are you going to take up on my offer of going on a date soon?"

"Over my dead body," she murmured before flouncing away.

Yaku had burst out laughing, enjoying Kuroo's embarrassment. Yamamoto tried to spare his senpai's feelings knowing the pain of being rejected all too well. But it was just too satisfying to watch smug Kuroo get turned down. Yamamoto collapsed in howling fits. Kuroo could even see Kenma hiding a smirk underneath his long bangs while trying and failing to look absorbed in his PSP.

She perplexed the hell out of him. He didn't understand where he went wrong with Y/N. In fact, she only displayed uninterest most of the time he attempted to talk to her.

★☆ ★☆

  However, he finally started making headway in his third year. Y/N, lo and behold, was in his class. Making it easier for him to talk to her. She was resistant to his efforts at first, but one particular day she let her guard down.

"Y/N-chan, how did you do on your chemistry test?" he inquired, looking at his 98.

He could feel her glare, and so Kuroo looked up to shoot a smirk at her.

"An 85. Probably better than your score," she huffed.

"Not today, sweetheart. Looks like I win." He sat back in his chair and radiated smugness.

Y/N leaned over from her chair to look at his score, and he could see her eyes widen in shock.

"How? You had two practice matches this week against rival schools back to back! When did you get the time to study?" Y/N blurted out.

"I'm flattered you know so much about my schedule."

She avoided eye contact and cleared her throat. "Don't get it twisted. It's hard not to know when that's all you've talked about for two weeks."

Kuroo's smirk just got bigger. "And here I thought you don't listen to poor old me. I'm smarter than you think I am. I don't need to study a lot to get adequate grades."

Y/N seemed a bit incredulous.

"Then why isn't your rank higher?" she challenged.

"Well, we can't all be ranked second like you. But you're right. My rank could be better if I tried more. But I don't need to because my grades just have to be good enough to play volleyball and get into a decent university. It's not like I'm going to be a doctor."

Y/N stared at him for a moment before requesting if she could look at his test to see what she did wrong. Kuroo shrugged and gave it to her.

He could feel Y/N's inquisitive gaze on him the rest of the day. But every time he turned to see, her long dark hair hid her face. It was puzzling, to say the least.

As the bell rang and he was about to leave for volleyball practice, Y/N stopped him.

"Kuroo, next time there's a chemistry test can we study together?" she asked him almost shyly.

A bit dazed by her request, he only nodded, to which she responded with, "great! See you tomorrow."

  ★☆ ★☆

Days began to fly by with Y/N still somehow talking to him, their topics ranging from academic to inane intellectual discussions.

"Ne Kuroo, do you think there's any truth to Jurassic Park? Like theoretically, can we bring back dinosaurs?" she asked him one morning after biology.

He blinked at the question and put his mechanical pencil down. Y/N reminded him too much of a particular beanpole dinosaur enthusiast in that moment.

"Not really. Because think about it, not only would we need to have a perfect DNA replica to duplicate, meaning the bullshit explanation from the movie of filling the missing DNA structures with DNA from modern species wouldn't work. But we would also need to recreate the environment these creatures thrived in. The current Earth right now is colder than they're used to. Then we would also have to recreate the same food sources. These dinosaurs didn't evolve to eat grass or cows. Plain and simple, they wouldn't survive."

Y/N's face brightened. "Exactly! Oh, and did you see the new dinosaur they discovered in Hokkaido? It's called Kamuysaurus. It's a different species of Hadrosaurid." She continued enthusiastically explaining to him what made the Kamuysaurus different from other Hadrosaurid species. It was kind of boring, to be honest; he wasn't much of a dinosaur fan, but he listened intently, feeling satisfied knowing that Y/N's attention was solely on him.

   ★☆ ★☆

The next week as Kuroo was walking home with Kenma, he noticed Y/N going inside a bookstore.

"Kenma, I'm going to go ahead, alright?" Kuroo said as he watched Y/N curiously.

Kenma looked up to see Kuroo staring at Y/N. "She's just going to yell at you again."

"Don't worry; I got it handled. See you tomorrow." Without waiting to hear his childhood friend's response, Kuroo ran to catch up to her before she left the store.

The store's bell jingled, and an employee welcomed him inside. He walked around for a bit before finally finding Y/N in the back, intensely reading a book. He walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

Y/N jumped and let out a squeak. She relaxed, seeing his smirking face "Kami-sama! Kuroo, don't do that! You scared the crap out of me!"

He chuckled at her reaction and stepped closer into her personal space. Looking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of what she was reading.

"Stars and constellations? Since when are you into astronomy?" he asked.

"Well, it's a fairly new hobby. Chichiue and I are planning a trip to the mountains to chart stars. I thought it would help me to know what we are looking at."

She tried to move away to put some space between them, but he just grabbed her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Hmm, need some help?"

She turned around and cocked her eyebrow at him. "Let me guess you know some things about astronomy too?"

He just ignored the sarcasm in her voice before going on a tangent. "Well, did you know at the center of every galaxy is a gigantic black hole that is gradually sucking everything inside? That's how we got the image of a swirling galaxy that we know today. Just in the Milky Way alone, there's about ten million to a billion other smaller black holes."

Kuroo stopped to glance at Y/N, who was looking back at him keenly, before continuing.

"And the name of the supermassive black hole at the center of our galaxy is-"

"Sagittarius A," Y/N finished almost breathlessly.

Kuroo joked, "guess you also know some things about astron-"

He failed to complete his sentence when Y/N yanked him down by his school uniform and captured his lips. Her kiss was harsh and greedy as she tried to swallow him whole. He reached over and lifted Y/N to steady her against the bookshelf. He separated for a moment to observe her, captivated as her ample chest heaved up and down.

"Kuroo," she whimpered out while clutching his school uniform.

Y/N grabbed his red tie and tugged him closer. Unable to deny her, he slanted his lips over hers.

 Kuroo was honestly so confused; why was she kissing him in a bookstore of all places? Did she have feelings for him? He supposed she had to have felt some attraction. Otherwise, she wouldn't have jumped him in the middle of a conversation. But if she did, when did it began and how? Because as far as he knew, nothing about himself had changed except they were talking more than usual. Their previous conversations included him being flirty and Y/N doing her best to walk away. But now they could spend hours arguing over their shared answers on their organic chemistry homework.

Still, all those questions disappeared when he felt her tongue intertwine with his and suck. Letting out a groan, he pressed her harder against the shelves and bucked. Y/N gasped and grinded back against his clothed cock. Kuroo could feel his member stirring at the soft sounds she was letting out despite gnawing on her lips. She was impatiently trying to rub against him, unable to get a satisfying rhythm.

"Here…here," he urged, grabbing her legs and tugging them around his waist.

She complied and clutched him closer before reigniting their kiss. Y/N was just so impatient and greedy, she coaxed him to get rougher by nibbling on his lower lip.

"Fuck, sweetheart. Do you always get so needy?" he panted.

He needed a minute. Just a minute to get himself together. Because if he made contact with her hot cunt one more time, Kuroo was going to lose it. He was going pull her panties to the side before plunging his hard cock inside of her. And he didn't think getting disciplined for obscenity in a public place was something either of them could afford right now.

SLAM!

The two of them startled and pulled apart to hear a customer apologizing to the bookstore's employee. A book was dropped on the floor.

He reluctantly lowered Y/N back on the floor and let her go. Y/N was looking anywhere but at him, as she tried to fix her appearance and make herself look presentable again.

Kuroo stepped forward. "Let me."

Y/N just nodded as she looked at the floor. He raised her chin to gaze into her eyes as he fixed her long-ruffled strands of hair.

"There. Perfect." His words meaning more than what he implied.

Kuroo waited for her as she paid for her astronomy book and followed her outside.

"Kuroo, it's still early. Do you wanna grab something to eat?" she asked once both had stepped out.

He blinked at her question, wondering if this was a date but decided to not let the chance slip by.

"Sure, I know the perfect place." He grabbed her hand and ignored her flustered pleas to let her hand go.

By the time they arrived at their destination, Kuroo had noticed Y/N had stopped all her protests. Finally, feeling relaxed and secure in his presence.

 ★☆ ★☆

Several months and dates later, Kuroo and Y/N found themselves at his house while studying for an upcoming chemistry exam.

"So, almost all stoichiometry problems can be solved in four simple steps. First, you balance the equation. Convert the units of the given substance to moles. Then calculate the moles of substance yielded by the reaction. Finally, convert the moles of the substance to the desired units. Sounds easy enough, right?" Kuroo asked, looking up from his notes to see Y/N eyeing her worksheet nervously.

"I-I'm going to be honest with you. I have no idea what any of that means," she grumbled.

He grabbed Y/N and pulled her close to him on the bed they were both occupying.

"Here. Watch me do it, and then if you have any questions, let me know."

Kuroo went through the process slowly. When he finished, he looked up to see Y/N gazing at him earnestly with a prominent flush on her face.

He stared back curiously, not understanding why Y/N was peering at him like that. Usually, she gave him those looks when she watched him play volleyball or if he acted particularly sweet that day. He shouldn't have been that surprised when she shoved her worksheet aside and pounced on him.

Y/N desperately clung and kissed him thoroughly.

"W-wait Y/N. We still have work to do," he gasped while turning his face away.

She didn't seem too perturbed and instead started nibbling his slender neck instead.

Hang on, why was he hesitating if there was a willing and rutting girl on top of him?

Kuroo tried to grasp her waist tightly and switch their position. But Y/N was having none of it and pushed his grabby hands away.  She swung her leg over his waist and pushed him down. With her position, her skirt had ridden up and showed off her legs. He couldn't help it as he caressed her silky-smooth skin and started making his way up her skirt. But before he could touch her lacey panties, she once again shoved his hand away.  Y/N carefully steadied herself and started rocking against his jeans.

It didn't take long before his dick started stirring with Y/N grinding on top of him. Trying not to upset Y/N's pace, he carefully unbuttoned her lacey blouse to expose her black bra. Kuroo shoved off the garment off her shoulders so he could knead her breasts through the cotton bra. Perhaps she got impatient from the lack of friction because soon enough, Y/N was unzipping his jeans and pulling out his dick. She pumped it a few times and asked Kuroo to help. While she was getting his dick hard, Kuroo pulled down her panties. She lined up him up quite nicely.

Y/N quickly rammed his cock inside of her, so fast that Kuroo almost missed the pained whimper from her mouth.

"Oy, slow down," he groaned while feeling her walls constrict around him. Kuroo tried to remove himself from her embrace, but she held onto his hips tightly. She started pushing herself up and down on top of him, letting out whimpers at the feeling of being so full.

He could feel her slick building up from the added ministrations and coating his length, making it easier for her to descend on him. Still, it was a tight fit. Bordering on pain and pleasure. He could see the tears in her eyes, so Kuroo once again tried to get her to slow down.

"Sweetheart, we got all the time in the world."

"Tetsu, I.. I need you so badly," she moaned while simultaneously shoving the rest of him inside her.

"Fuck!" he let out after seeing her be filled to the brim and her mound connecting with his pubic.

Y/N was a panting and crying mess, trying to accommodate a cock that was clearly too big for her.

He felt a little ashamed and guilty for liking the way she looked on top of him. But sex with Y/N was always so nasty and filthy. He remembered vividly how desperately she begged for him to take her virginity after school one day. So, Kuroo cut his practice short (the one rare time he did) and took her to the nearest love hotel where he proceeded to fuck her senseless for an hour straight. Still, he remembered feeling despaired afterward because he had wanted to make love after a romantic date for her first time.

His musing got cut short when Y/N started bouncing on his cock mercilessly. She let out choked sobs each time she slammed back down. The bedsprings began squeaking, and the frame of the bed banged against the wall. So much so he would no doubt have to explain about the dent later to his parents.

Soon enough, he could see Y/N becoming tired, her breathing becoming more and more labored.

She begged, "Tetsu, help me."

"I don't know, Y/N. You got yourself in this mess-" Kuroo let out a loud groan when he felt Y/N purposely squeezing his cock.

Kuroo pulled the cups of her bra down to reveal her heaving chest. He sat up on his forearms to thoroughly suck the peaked breasts while keeping one hand on her hips to control the thrusts. The wild bouncing was now replaced with rhythmic rocking. He knew from experience that she liked to stimulate her clit along with penetration. So, each time he entered her, Kuroo held her hips still so he could grind against her more. It worked, her body started shaking and becoming restless from the extra stimulation.

"Tetsu, I-I'm…" she didn't finish her sentence.

"Fuck, I can feel you milking me. Shit, that n-never gets old," he replied, feeling helpless as her orgasm spiraled out of control.

Feeling that the opportunity now was perfect, he quickly reversed their position. Kuroo rammed his cock back inside of her and made sure to rest her ankles on his shoulders. He had to bend a little to make sure his taller height was able to accommodate her. But the position was perfect for deeper penetration, especially when he pressed his chest against the back of her thighs. Y/N was still sensitive from her previous orgasm, so she only got louder and louder from the new angle. He covered her mouth with his hand; however, her muffled sobs were only subdued to a point. Her keening was still audible to anyone who might pass by his room. He let out a grunt when their bodies connected, creating a loud wet slap that only served to turn him on further. No longer able to hold back, Kuroo didn't stop himself from the telltale signs of his own impending pleasure. The base of his cock tightened, and he came inside of her.

He moaned and let Y/N go, settling his face nicely on top of her sweaty and warm chest. Kuroo thanked whatever deity out there that Y/N had been on birth control since their first time. He had the privilege of hitting it raw and hopefully would continue to do so until she said otherwise.

The two laid side by side for a couple of minutes, trying to catch their breaths before he turned on his side and clutched her closer.

Kuroo grabbed Y/N's face and started peppering it with quick kisses, "I love you. I love you so much. You did so good, baby."

Y/N was too tired to participate, so she returned the kisses halfheartedly.

"Not that I mind, babe. But what was that about? I thought we were supposed to be studying," he teased with a smirk.

Y/N shrugged and replied, "I think intelligence is sexy and a turn on."

The smirk on his face crumbled, and he facepalmed.

Y/N frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

"You shouldn't have told me that. Now we will never get any studying done," he replied with a groan.

[numba99]

Tis The Damn Season

Summary: You return to home around the holidays, bringing up some unresolved feelings between you and your best friend Nolan. This was highly inspired by the song Tis the damn season but Taylor Swift. I highly recommend listening to it (its amazing) and it really sets the ~vibe~. Word count: 5.3k

a/n: this is my longest one shot ever I think omg. but I love it so much I think this is my favorite fic I have ever written. let me know what you think and please Enjoy!

Warnings: smut

You walked down the street of your hometown, accompanied only by your breath going up in smoke. You were surprised that you were barely even registering the cold. You had assumed when you left Winnipeg for LA, your body would completely lose all its defenses to these frigid temperatures. However, as you were beginning to learn, the Canadian cold was the kind that seeped into your body and made a home out of you. It never truly left.

You almost forgot how silent Canadian nights were, the blankets of snow soaking up nearly every sound. If it wasn’t for the crunch of snow under your boots, you imagined it would be silent enough to hear your heart thumping in your chest. Especially now, as your heart began to realize where your feet were taking you. Nolan’s house.

You’ve been back at your parents’ house for a few days now as you got ready for the holidays. You hadn’t so much as seen Nolan once since you returned. In normal circumstances that would be absolutely unheard of, but considering you haven’t heard from Nolan in months, circumstances were certainly not normal.

Ever since you returned home, you’d been going on these nightly walks, as if trying to retrace your steps to that night where it all went so wrong. It felt like years ago thinking back to it now. It had been an oddly mild March night - nothing like the weather now - and you were home for spring break. It was your last semester at school and you had made probably what was the biggest decision of your life up until that moment. Instead of moving back home from your school in California after graduation, you were going to stay there. It was bittersweet, you loved your hometown and all the family and friends that inhabited it, but you also felt like you were meant for something more. Something bigger.

You were sitting with Nolan on your porch, enjoying your last night before you would return to school when you told him.

“What do you mean you’re moving there? Like permanently?” Nolan had asked, brows stitched together in confusion. His response had taken you aback; you expected him to be surprised but he seemed genuinely upset.

“I mean I can’t predict where I’ll end up forever, but it would definitely be permanent for the foreseeable future,” you had explained.

“I’m never going to see you,” Nolan had replied, his voice barely above a whisper. There was genuine hurt in his voice that was creating an ache in you that you couldn’t quite place.

“Nols, we barely see each other now. Remember that team you play for? In Philly? That not exactly close to home,” you had tried to sound light, but the joke fizzled and died in the tension between the two of you.

“You shouldn’t do it y/n,” Nolan replied, shocking you with his lack of support. You were rarely ever angry at Nolan, but this sparked annoyance in you. He was your best friend, why wasn’t he happy for you?

“It’s not up to you,” you replied, more defensive than you intended. You couldn’t help it, everyone you told had been questioning you and you had built up frustration. You’d thought about this for a while, and it felt right, you didn’t understand why everyone was acting like you were making some crazy impulsive decision. No one questioned Nolan when he went after his dream of playing in the NHL, so why was this suddenly so crazy to all your friends and family?

“And what are you gonna do there? What friends do you have?” he had fired back.

The anger in his voice made the words sting more than they should have. “I have a job lined up after graduation. And I have plenty of friends, thank you very much.” Anger was bubbling up in you - you were notorious for letting yourself get to a boiling point and just explode at someone. Nolan was getting dangerously close to being the unlucky victim.

“Right, your LA friends how could I forget,” Nolan muttered, rolling his eyes. Nolan had visited you once while you were in college. Let’s just say he didn’t exactly get along with your friends there. He hasn’t visited since. Partially because of his busy schedule, and partially because you knew he thought they were… not his type of people (to put it nicely).

“Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean they’re bad people,” you snapped. What did he know? “And why are so pissed about this? I didn’t throw a fit when you moved to Philly.”

“That’s completely different.”

“How?”

Nolan stared at his hands, and you knew him long enough to know that what he did when he was something weighing heavy on his mind. He opened his mouth a few times before finally speaking, “I don’t want you to be that far from me.”

You were taken aback again but in a completely different manner. “What do you-”

Before you could even process what was happening, his hand cupped your face and his lips found yours. That was the closest you had ever been to a heart attack. Nolan was your first and best friend. Your parents had met in college, their friendship being the predecessor to yours. You were born pretty close together, so you’ve literally known him your entire life. There was no one you were closer with, no one who knew you better. You’re not exactly sure when your feelings grew beyond friendship. You supposed the seeds had been planted early, blooming over time into something you couldn’t control even if you tried.

Having a crush on your best friend is about as fun as it sounds, especially when you don’t think they feel the same. That’s why it shocked you so much to feel him kiss you. It was something you’d wanted for years, though you had never thought it would ever be a reality. You were speechless.

Nolan must have sensed your shock when he pulled away. He mumbled something that sounded like a goodbye and left in a hurry. You should have said something. You should have gone after him. But you didn’t, you sat there, weighed down by surprise of a dream coming true in a nightmarish way.

And then silence.

Nolan didn’t come to see you off the next day. He’d never missed you leaving for college, even when it was just returning after a break like this. The two of you rarely went more than a day without speaking and now there was nothing. With every day that passed that you didn’t hear from him, the ache that started that night you told him you were moving grew. Now that it had been months since you last spoke to him, it practically consumed you.

You knew how ridiculous it looked. He was your best friend, you should have been able to reach out to him. But that kiss had left you in a vacuum. Nothing made sense after it. Besides, he kissed you, shouldn’t he be the one to break the ice? Maybe that was a silly way to think of it, but with the more time that passed without speaking, the harder it felt to reach out. Now that it had been months, it seemed like an impossible bridge to gap.

Every night since you returned, you had walked the block that your homes share. Deep down, you knew your feet were on a mission to get you to his place, but it wasn’t until today that you were able to get close. You had always pulled yourself away before you could really get a good look at it. Today, however, you were finally standing in front of it, basking in the familiar, warm glow.

Your heart began to pound, realizing at any moment someone from his family could look out and see you standing there. You were about to turn around and hightail it home when the front door opening caused you to freeze. Your breath caught in your throat. It was Nolan.

His head was down, a grey beanie pulled down low over his forehead. He almost didn’t notice you; his eye only catching you when he reached his car. He stopped in his tracks, looking at you as if trying to decide if you were real.

“Y/n? Is that you?” he asked, his voice somewhere between confusion and conservative joy.

“Yeah, uh- hey,” was the only thing you could get out. You suddenly became aware of just how cold it was.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice seeming to be just on the crest of a quiver, “Where you… what are you doing out here?” It was clear he didn’t know what to make of you standing outside his house, and you didn’t blame him. You probably would be equally as shocked if the tables were turned.

You searched your brain for something to say. Nolan was someone you could talk about anything with, so it was killing you now to feel like you couldn’t find the right words to say to him. “I was just going for a walk I guess,” you answered finally. It was partially true.

“Clearing your head?” he guessed.

You nodded, allowing the smallest of smiles. He still could read you after all this time. “Yeah, I guess that’s exactly what I was doing.”

“Me too,” Nolan replied, motioning to his car. There was a quick silence before he asked, “Do you wanna join me?”

You could feel your blood coursing through you, spreading sweet warmth spiked with nerves. You missed him so much, and even though you didn’t know if it was smart to spend time with him when you didn’t even know what you wanted to say to him, you could not resist getting into his truck. You desperately needed something familiar.

You nodded and Nolan gave you one of his infamous half-smiles, punctuated by the click of his truck doors unlocking. You silently slipped into the passenger seat, something you’ve done a million times before, breathing in the scent you knew would be there. Mint and clean leather. Somethings never change.

It was weird going through the motions as nothing had ever changed. You could almost pretend that things hadn’t. However, the thick silence that settled between the two of you prevented you from reveling in that dream. It was so foreign to sit next to Nolan and feel uncomfortable. You never felt awkward around him - well there was that one time when he walked in on you in your bra but that was short-lived. He went out and bought a bra just so you could walk in on him in one so the two of you were even. It was ridiculous but it made you laugh and forget about your embarrassment. That was one of your favorite things about Nolan, he always knew how to make you feel better now. You could use that Nolan.

“Where were you planning on going?” You asked when you couldn’t stand the silence anymore. You tried to sound casual, but you heard the nerves fraying in your own voice.

“Somewhere we both know well,” Nolan replied. Cryptic as always, but you didn’t push. You had a feeling you knew where he was going anyway. The dark road sprawled out before you, illuminated only by his headlights and street lamps that were losing a fighting battle against the darkness of a December night in Canada.

You didn’t expect Nolan to say much as he drove, and you were still at a loss so the silence continued, heavy and suffocating. It felt like the two of you were fighting to breathe in the last bit of oxygen the small space had to offer. That made it all the more of a relief when you recognized the turns Nolan was taking. He was going to a park the two of you spent a ridiculous amount of time in as children. Even as you grew, it continued to be a place the two of you enjoyed, whether it be hiking the trails in the summer or sledding down the giant hill in the winter. It also became the location of many of your heart to hearts when one of you was going through something. A fitting spot for whatever was about to happen.

Nerves fluttered through your stomach as he pulled in. You knew a talk was coming, but you had no idea where the two of you would stand when he drove you out and that terrified you.

Nolan parked by the playground, buried under a thick blanket of snow. It stood like a relic to a lost childhood, a sense of freedom and possibility that was lost under burdens it wasn’t meant to bear.

“I would say we should go to our bench, but I don’t think you’d survive the trek,” Nolan joked lightly. The bench he was referring to was the one you always had your talks at. It was tucked away beyond the playground under a large maple, which you could see peeking out above the climbing walls. Somewhere on that tree “NP + Y/I friends 4 evr” was carved into the trunk. You weren’t sure how many summers ago the two of you did it anymore, but you do know you wished you’d carved a heart instead of just friends. Regardless, it puts a smile on your face every time you see it.

“Me? I didn’t know you were suddenly immune to frostbite,” you replied as playfully as you could manage.

“I’m better off than you. I haven’t been spending the last few months in LA.” You knew it was supposed to be a joke, but it came out with an accusatory edge. Any response you could think of died on your lips. A fight was the last thing you wanted to start right now. Back to silence.

Both of you kept your eyes trained ahead; it was a lot easier than facing each other. That didn’t stop you from stealing glances from your peripheral, trying to get a read on him. Nolan had an infamous poker face, but his energy was palpable. He was buzzing like a fluorescent.

Suddenly you couldn’t take it anymore. “Why?” You broke through the wall of ice between the two of you. “Why did you disappear on me?”

“I’ve been here the whole time. Technically you disappeared on me,” Nolan replied.

“I told you I was going,” you shot back.

“Yeah, the day before. More of a warning would have been nice,” he mumbled.

“Oh, so you could have a few extra days to ignore me?” Your words came out more venomous than you intended. Months of sadness were being compressed into a deep, hurting frustration.

Nolan finally looked at you, hurt etched into the blue of his eyes. A street light shined behind him, giving him an ethereal glow. Even though he was upset with you, he still took your breath away. “Talking is a two-way street you know,” he fired back, “You never picked up the phone either. I thought… I don’t know.”

“What?” you pressed.

“I thought you forgot about me.” His voice was barely audible, his eyes falling away from yours.

You couldn’t help but let out a strained laugh since it was the absolute opposite of the truth. “Nolan I thought about you every single day since I left,” you admitted without thought. You quickly added, “As pathetic and weird as that sounds, it’s the truth.”

“I thought about you every day, too,” he replied, looking at you again. Some of the hurt has dissipated in response to your statement.

“So why didn’t I hear from you?” You were less accusatory and more curious in tone this time. The anger was leaving you, now you were just confused and sad over the time you lost with him.

Nolan, taking off his beanie for a second to run his hand through his hair. “I guess I thought I fucked up,” he replied, pulling the beanie back into place. He added sheepishly, “By kissing you, I mean.”

Your heart ached. “Did you regret it?” you asked, trying not to show how much of a blow it would be to you if he said yes.

“No,” he replied, “I mean I would only regret it if it pushed you away, which I sort of feel like I did. You just looked so shocked and upset after, I thought I crossed a line. Then when I didn’t hear from you, I thought you were mad.” He paused, looking down at his hands, turning words over in his head. “I guess I was kind of embarrassed, too,” he said finally, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, and then it kinda blew up in my face.”

You couldn’t believe what you heard. He wanted to kiss you? For a long time? You covertly pinched yourself to make sure this wasn’t some cruel dream. “You have?”

Nolan let out an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, I have. I was just scared if you didn’t feel the same it would completely fuck up our friendship. Which it looks like I succeeded in doing.” he sighed.

You shook your head. “Nolan, you could not be more wrong,” you replied. He cocked a brow at you and you continued, “I’ve had a crush on you since- well- forever. I’ve wanted to kiss you for the longest time. I was just so shocked that it happened I sorta shut down.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you confirmed. “God I feel like such an idiot.”

“That makes two of us,” Nolan half laughed. You joined him in the short laughter, fueled mostly by shock. A short silence returned as the two of you digested the weight of the revelations you just had.

“So… where do we go from here?” Nolan asked finally.

You let out a long sigh as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I’m not sure,” you replied honestly. “I mean hearing that you feel the same way as I do as you is the best news I’ve gotten in like, well ever,” you paused laughing at yourself, “But these last few months… they’ve been so hard. It’s hard to digest all this.”

“Was it all bad because of me?” Nolan asked, concernedly.

“No, not entirely,” you replied, not wanting him to feel guilty. In truth, he was only part of the equation. You had a ridiculous stubborn streak so it was hard for you to admit that maybe moving to LA wasn’t a great idea. You quickly learned that going to school and living/working somewhere were two totally different things. In school, you knew your friends were available every weekend; there was always something to do and people to be with. Now, everyone was weighed down by jobs and responsibilities that far outweighed term papers. Not to mention the job you thought was perfect was looking more like a dead end every day. Plus, Nolan may have been right about a few of your friends not being so great.

You continued, “It’s just, well it’s hard for me to admit, but LA isn’t exactly what I thought it was going to be. It was definitely hard without you, like so many times I wanted to reach out to you, but I didn’t because I was scared and confused. I feel pretty stupid about that now.”

You half expected Nolan to tell you he told you so, which you wouldn’t even blame him if he did, but he said, “I wish I was there for you. I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, we were both kinda stupid,” you replied as lightly as you could, “But if these last few months have taught me anything, it’s that I need you in my life. If we were together and something went wrong and I lost you, I don’t even know what I’d do.”

Nolan nodded in agreement, “You’re my best friend, I never want anything to come between that.” You both believed the words you spoke, and yet it felt like things were unfinished. You both weren’t satisfied with going back like nothing had ever happened.

“What if,” you began slowly, “I mean I’m here for a few more days, what if we just gave this - us - a shot during that time. We don’t tell anyone, it’s just for us to explore. If it doesn’t work out we can just go back to being best friends and forget this mess. But if it does… well I guess we will go from there.”

“I think that’s perfect,” Nolan agreed, joy creeping into his voice for the first time since you began talking. You couldn’t help but fling your arms around him in a big hug. It’s been so fucking long since you got to do that; it brought you an indescribable level of joy just to feel his arms around you again.

You both pulled back, smiling at each other, the hurt of the last few months melting away. Nolan brought his hand to your face and pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your head was spinning.

“As much as I wanted to do that the first time,” he said with a smile when he pulled away, “I wanted to do it a million times more now.” You giggled, pulling him back to your lips. You were never going to get tired of this.

“Take me home Nols,” you said breathlessly when you were finally able to peel yourself away. Nolan smiled, quickly shifting his truck into gear. You loved that you didn’t have to specify his home. He knew you, better than anyone.

Silence returned, but of a much different variety. It was now charged, alive with the promise of what was to come. You kept your hand firmly laced with Nolan’s, not wanting to give up touching me for a second. You’ve wanted this for so long, you had lost time to make up for. Years of it.

You’ve never been more glad that the basement of Nolan’s house had been turned into a little apartment for him. You absolutely adored his family, but you didn’t want to be seen by any of them sneaking into his room at this hour. That would be hard to explain.

Nolan helped you out of the truck, lifting you over some large piles of snow. After just a few steps over ice and banks of snow, Nolan decided it was easier to just carry you. You didn’t protest, letting out only a muffle shriek-giggle as he hoisted you on to his back. He navigated the tundra that was his yard with you clinging to him like it was nothing.

The warmth of his little place enveloped you the second he opened the door. Your lips found each other with a newfound excitement as the door closed behind you. You breathed in his familiar scent - mint and cedar - and realized why you had bought so many cedar candles when you moved. You’d been trying to replicate Nolan’s scent subconsciously, but nothing compared to the original. You began pulling off each other’s outerwear, trying to keep as much contact as possible. Within minutes coats and snowflakes were surrounding your feet.

You continued to kiss and peel off clothing as you half walked, half stampeded to his bedroom. You’d been in it plenty of times before when you guys hung out, but it felt so much more intimate this time around. You fell backwards onto his bed, his sheets greeting your back like a soft kiss. Nolan climbed on top of you, a heavy, lusty grin painted on his face. You took in each other, both only in your underwear. Rationally you knew it was no different than seeing each other in a bathing suit, something you’ve experienced countless times, but it still felt worlds apart. You couldn’t help but blush under his gaze.

Nolan’s hand came under your chin, tilting your face so he could look at you in the eyes. “No need to be shy, love,” his voice was smooth as honey, “It’s only me.” He punctuated his words with kisses down your neck. He to plant extra slow, sweet kisses around the edge where your bra met your skin, before removing the garment from your body. “So pretty,” he breathed against your skin. You tangled your fingers through his hair as his kissed and sucked lightly at your delicate skin.

“Nols,” you breathed as you felt his length brush against your clothed core. There were two too many layers of fabric between you. “Please.”

“I got you baby,” he cooed. He shed the final bits of clothing from the two of you and you sucked in a breath. He was bigger than you thought (because yes you had thought about it more than you care to admit), but moreso, you couldn’t believe this was happening. For so long, Nolan had felt like a dream to you, beautiful but always just out of reach. But now he was here in the flesh, touching you and kissing you and fuck you don’t know how you got this damn lucky.

“God you’re perfect,” he sighed, reverent.

“Look who’s talking,” you replied, running your hands down his body, truly feeling him. “You’re like a god or an angel or something.” You were tripping over your words, completely flustered by having him like this. So flustered, that you didn’t even notice his hand trailing up your thighs until two fingers slid into. Your head fell back, a moan melting from your lips.

“Now that’s angelic,” Nolan smiled, returning his lips to your neck. You weren’t sure if it was because you were so into him or if he was a master with his hands(probably both), but he had you worked up in minutes. Your body reacted to his every touch, arching into him to get as close as possible.

“Nolan I’m gonna-” the words died on your lips as a wave of bliss flooded your body. You let out breathless gasps, feeling a pleasure you have never previously experienced.

“Fuck that was hot,” Nolan said almost to himself. The way he looked at you made you feel like you could cum all over again.

“I need you Nols,” you said, greedy for more. He didn’t skip a beat, fishing out a condom from his bedside table before returning to you. Your heart was pounding with nervous excitement and you silently told it that you would never forgive it if it gave out before you got to finish this experience.

Nolan seemed to sense your nerves and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before saying, “We’ll go slow. Just enjoy it.” You nodded kissing him back before positioning him against you. You were so slick from your first orgasm that he slid in easy, though it didn’t make the feeling any less intense. Your back arched and Nolan gripped your hips into place, hissing at the feeling of you around him.

It wasn’t until he was all the way in that you both let out a breath. You felt so full and satisfied you’d be fine if he stopped there. Of course, he had other plans in mind. True to his word, he went slow, drawing out every thrust to let you feel each other. “You feel fucking amazing,” the words tumbled out of his mouth. If you weren’t so blissed out you may have been able to muster a reply.

Slowly, his pace quickened and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. It was crazy what Nolan did to you, the way he was able to make you feel this good. And he knew it too. Sensing you were close again, his thumb found your clit, rubbing circles over the already sensitive spot. “Come on baby, cum for me,” he purred, licking his lips.

It was all  you needed to succumb to his euphoria. His name left your mouth in a moan as you came for the second time. You barely heard his curses through your fog of bliss, but you couldn’t mistake the feeling of him twitching inside you as he came along with you. This blew everything you ever imagine out of the water by a mile.

“That was…” Nolan’s voice trailed off as he collapsed beside you. He pulled you on to his chest, peppering you with kisses.

“Amazing? Mind blowing? Perfect?” you offered.

“Perfect,” he confirmed, kissing you once more.

*** The next few days passed in a blur of pure perfection. There is nothing more that you needed after your disastrous few months in LA than to be surrounded by the people you love at the holidays. And being with Nolan made it all the more better. Truly, it wasn’t much more different than when you were friends, except there was a lot more kissing and touching under dinner tables.

When you weren’t enjoying these magical moments, your mind was going a mile a minute. You were trying to figure out all your options and navigate all the paths you could possibly take in your mind. No matter how many different possibilities you came up with, they always lead you back to Nolan. After these few days you couldn’t imagine your life without Nolan, and not just as a friend, but as a lover. Not just a lover, the lover, the only one you’d ever need. Or want.

Making that revelation both excited and terrified you. If he didn’t feel the same it would crush you. Those feelings came to a head on your last night, sitting out on your porch with Nolan like those many months ago. You could hear Christmas music and laughter of your families floating out from your house.

“So,” Nolan began.

“So,” you echoed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” he began, “I don’t think I’ve ever been  happier than I have been in these past few days. I love you, y/n. I always have and I probably always will even if you don’t feel the same. But I want this. I want us.”

You practically jumped on him, giving him a long kiss and not caring if anyone inside saw. “I love you too, Nolan,” trying to fight back tears. They were happy ones, but they’d probably freeze on your face. Nolan beamed brighter than you’d ever seen him.

“I have a sort of crazy thought though,” you admitted.

“What’s that?”

“I know I want to be in a city and all this time I thought LA was my perfect fit. But it’s certainly not,” you huffed, “But I think I know what would be. Philly.” Nolan looked at you like he was trying to decode if you were joking. You were most certainly not. What if he thought it was crazy? Or too much too soon.

Your insecurities disappeared as quickly as they came as he said, “There is nothing I would love more.” You hugged him tightly, wondering how it was possible for one person to feel so much joy.

“There’s just one more thing we gotta do,” Nolan smirked, “Tell our parents.” His head tilted to the front door.

“No offense, but I think your mom is gonna love this more than the necklace you gave her,” you teased, standing up and dusting some snow off of you.

Nolan chuckled, “You say that as if this hasn’t been on your mom’s list for years.” You giggled because he was absolutely right.

You took his hand as he led you back into your house. The warmth of both your home and all the people in it hit you the second the door opened, embracing you in an overwhelming sense of joy. There was absolutely no feeling in the world like loving Nolan, and you were so glad it was your feeling to keep. Forever.