#im still young and short enough to pass for a kid too so i can still get free candy from people

[rararasputins-dick-mind-control]

i fucking.hate july. Why am i listening to vintage autumn music its not even fucking augusy.

[gt-jar]

8 for the story ideas

8. John & Noah: Human AU

This is something I'll definitely write some day, maybe not in the near future, but eventually I will I SWEAR!

I think this one is pretty self-explanatory, but in case it isn't.

In this story John will be a human and Noah will be a borrower. And the story takes place in the modern world. Also Noah is going to be a bit younger.

As a reminder, in "Two Worlds among the Stars" Noah is 15 and in this AU he'll be 11 oder 12.

As for the plot:

Noah, who would've guessed, doesn't have parents anymore. A surprise, I know. But unlike in "2WATS", the loss is more recent.

Noah got separated from them (don't know if Noah's dad sticked around in this one yet) while they were moving. Now on his own, Noah does what his parents told him to do in this case.

Find a safe house and wait for them there. (He's been waiting for maybe a month, when he and John meet for the first time, and while he's still hopeful, deep down he knows that the won't come back.)

The house/apartment Noah finds shelter in is, again who would've guessed, John's.

It's perfect for borrowering:

- only one human

- no kids

- no pets

- leaves the house for several hours

- goes to bed early

But like in every borrower story, the borrower gets caught eventually :)

Noah's doom is...

The sink

Noah falls in during one night and can't get out on his own and as John gets ready for work (suggestions for what John's job would be in the modern world?) he finds him still stuck there in the morning.

John, just like in "2WATS", has NO IDEA what to do and is utterly overwhelmed with the situation, cause FUCK! THERE'S A TINY CHILD INSIDE HIS SINK!

And because John doesn't wanna be late for work (and his brain is having kind of a meltdown) he has a short circuit reaction.

He puts a tea towel in the sink so Noah can climb out on his own.

After that their lifes go on relatively normal, except Noah can't wrap his head around the fact that a human let im go, and John is doing internet research (I really like the idea that John's mom read "the borrowers" to him and his sister when they were children).

Soon...ish? The next sink incident happens (don't really care if that makes sense or not)

Noah goes out to borrow during the day and falls in the sink again, except this time it's filled with water.

And Noah being a borrower can't swim :)

He manages to keep himself afloat for some time, but his strenth is fading fast and he starts to panic.

The situation gets a little worse until John finally comes home.

Noah, who's seconds away from drowning, screams ("screams" is a little exaggerated, cause there's not enough air inside his lungs to really scream) for help when he hears John enter the apartment.

One near-death experience later, John is sitting on his sofa with one sleeping borrower (wrapped in a tea towel) in his arms (Noah passed out from exhaustion).

Now the unthinkable happens:

John lets Noah go AGAIN!

Why you might ask? Well... John thinks there's no way someone as small and young as Noah is on his own. There have to be parents or some kind of adults around to take care of him. There's no way the kid managed to survive on his own for that long. Right?

Right...

John puts him on the kitchen counter and doesn't leave his bedroom until he's certain Noah woke up and left.

Meanwhile, Noah is losing his mind.

This human let him go not only one but TWO TIMES! This goes against everything he has been taught! He wants to know what this human is up to, so against his better judgement...

He activly seeks John out. He's on top of the fridge or something where John can't reach him, but he's willing revealing himself to a human.

And then they have a conversation.

Aaaaaaand the rest is a mystery :)

You'll have to wait unil I write this story for real.

Or you can ask more questions about it, that works too. It's a neat little trick to make writers reveal more of their storys. It works most of the time ;)

[lovely-echoo]

Sleepy Bois Inc x FranBow!Reader

In-game AU

Part 1/? Pt.2

Plantonic!SBI x Young!Reader

(10/11 years old)

OneShot/Drabble(?)

Genderneutral reader (they/them) 💜

INFO; If you haven't played or seen game play of Fran Bow then you can skip this if you'd like. If you don't care then go ahead.

Summary; Basically if you've seen/played the game you should know how this goes, you take place of Fran. So you go/went through the same things she did and you still have Mr. Midnight. This takes place while Fran is still in the mental hospital and then got teleported near the SBI.

Honestly I kept thinking about this but was afraid to request it to anyone so I'm doing it my myself-

If I get any info wrong, I'm sorry! I rewatched Markiplier's game play so it shouldn't be way off.

P.s not everything is described the same.

(^ art by sunquids on twt)

CW/TW: mentions/includes of cussing, gore, death, blood, consumption of medication, sexual assault (brief mentions of Damian/The King)

Fluff/Normal

(Angst if you squint)

How you ended up there - How you met Philza and Technoblade

As you were walking around the hospital, you decided to take a pill to see if it'll help.

You watched as your vision blurred and some sort of demonic noises rang in your ears.

After a few seconds your vision cleared up, you took a look around the front desk.

The once dull and lifeless room had turned into this even duller and just plain deathly like room.

Blood was everywhere, random body parts of babies where thrown around. A skeletal figure was hung with what looked like an umbilical cord wrapped around its thin bones, it was connected to this baby covered by a blue blanket.

Just about everything looked grotesque.

Suddenly the floor ahead of you opened and this slimy black tentacle like arm grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in.

It seemed you may have passed out during your fall because you woke up to the sounds of hissing and supposedly two men.

Oh and let's not forget the killer headache causing the ringing in your ears. :)

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, the light around you seemed much brighter than before.

You looked at the two men in front of you and then glanced down, you spotted Mr. Midnight!

His fur was spiked up and his ears were flat against his head. He seemed to be trying to protect you from the men.

Ignoring their presence you immediately scooped up your precious fur baby in your arms.

Your mind completely forgot about the fact there are two strange looking men in front of you.

A few droplets of water dripped down your (S/C) cheeks onto your (F/C) shirt/dress.

You started crying, so much happened in a short period of time and you found your cat you oh so desperately tried to find.

It panicked one of the adults. Said adult was an average tall man with slightly longer blond hair than average, he also had a green and white striped bucket hat. But what stuck out the most was the large pair of wings behind his back.

At first you thought that it was your pills fault but everywhere around you looked….

Normal?

It seemed like your meds wore off while you supposedly passed out.

But that doesn’t help or ease you at all. If the side effects wore off then how the hell did he have wings?!

The blond walked towards you slowly, like you were an injured puppy. His blue eyes roamed around your body, as if studying your every mouvements.

The other man who was beside him earlier seemed to tense up and looked at him as if he grew another head. He was on edge you assumed.

But he looked even weirder to you. He had long pink hair tied into a loose braid falling over his shoulder. Was it natural? He also had tusks peeking out from his bottom lip, they were large but not enough to be in the way. His skin seemed to be on the pinker side, it was roughed up with scars and calloused in certain areas. You noticed he had pig ears poking out his crown. Is he a king of sorts? Wait, that reminds you of someome... Oh! The king of course!

Ah yes, the king. You quite missed him actually, he was playful and let you use his cane- sword to get a key. But he didn't know about that part. You wonder if he's doing alright right know, the asylum sucks. And the shadow thing next to him said weird things to. Who exactly is the holy man? Why'd the shadow say he took off his clothes?

You couldn't dwell on it to much as you got distracted by the approaching man.

He reached out his hand to stop the winged male. “Phil-”

But the man named ‘Phil’ interrupted the crowned male by putting up his hand. He stopped his hand and let it limp to his side.

“It’s alright Tech, they seem harmless.” ‘Phil’ reassured, though ‘Tech’ nodded his head with a stern expression. There was still hesitance in his sharp red eyes.

‘Phil’ took the same hand he put up and reached it out to you. A soft and kind look in his eyes, you could’ve gotten lost in them if you weren’t careful.

“You alright there kid?” He asked, crouching down to meet your height from where you sat.

“Y-yeah, I think so…” You winced, your throat was hoarse and dry. You peered at ‘Phil’ as he took out this glass bottle with what you assumed was water.

He handed you the fragile bottle, he saw the look of hesitance in your childlike eyes. But something about them set off alarms in his head, they were dull. There’s nothing wrong with that of course! But they were too dull, at least for a mere kid.

He recognized a glint of trauma in your (Eye Shape) eyes, those beautiful (E/C) orbs had seen something they shouldn’t have. Haven’t they?

“Don’t worry mate, it’s fresh water.” He examined the way you handled the cork, you were inexperienced. He could tell you’ve never needed to do it, but why? It’s really the only way so far to keep water with you.

Did you not have any?

While he was lost in thought, you just had noticed he had an accent of sorts. Nothing wrong with it, you've just never heard of someone with it.

(^ Ignore that if you are british)

While the winged male was off in his own world the piglin hybrid watched as you sniffed the clear liquid in suspicion before letting your cat smell it as if you were looking for their approval.

To his surprise they did give it to you, the black cat nodded it’s head and squeaked out a meow. That strangely sounded like a yes- but he dismissed the thought. Probably was just the voices fucking with him.

You gulped down the water as if you hadn’t had any for months.

‘Why tf are they so desperate-’ ‘lowkey kinda concerned lmao’ ‘they look like they’d be an orphan tho’ ‘lmao maybe’ ‘idc about the kid, i want the cat’ ‘absolutely-’ ‘Nah fuck the cat, im allergic.’ ‘lol and?’ 'PFT ANY ASKERS???'

Those were all different voices speaking and overlapping each other.

Technoblade sighed as he glanced at his father, he knew him on the back of his hand. He let him be and slowly walked next to Phil and kneeled down.

“What’s your name kid?” he asked, taking the empty bottle you had handed him. “(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n)/Bow.” You bluntly answered, looking at him in the eyes. He noticed how bloodshot they were, I mean you did cry not even 5 minutes ago.

"What's yours?" You questioned tilting your head a bit in the process.

Unbeknownst to you, some voices in a certain someone's head were losing their shit, squealing and chanting ‘protecc tiny bean’ over and over again.

"The name's Technoblade, but you can call me Techno." Strange name in your book but your not the one to judge. You simply nodded your head in acknowledgement.

"That guy is Philza, but you can call him Phil." He pointed his thumb to the unfocused man. Technoblade or Techno- cleared his throat.

“You’ve got somewhere to stay? Where are your parents?” “Why can’t you mind your business?”

Techno’s eyes twitched in annoyance and his teeth clenched to hold back any crude words.

Although he noticed the flash of pain in those dull (E/C) orbs of the mentions of your parents.

He sighed once again, something you noticed he did a lot. At least, so far he did.

“Look kid, do you have a place to stay or not?”

And that's how you ended up meeting your new family. . . <3

I may include a taglist if anyone's up to be tagged lmao

[oddaodd]

can you make one where the reader is the youngest maid in Tommy's house and she's helping serve the dinner for christmas and taking care of the kids and in some point Finn gets closer to her and try to flirt with her (she's just a few years older than him) and the reader don't know how to react but Tommy comes and help her (because he already likes the reader but don't get too close because she's too young for him) and by the end of the night when everybody is sleeping and they have sex

· A Whimsical Tale · 

Author’s note: I know we are no longer near Christmas but I love living a dangerous life so I’m just going to post this now.  

 Anddd I loved writing this story so thanks for requesting! and as always, I hope everyone has a lovely day. ❤️

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol and a drunken Finn. 

·

Christmas Day was a heavy day on Arrow House and despite the numerous staff, there was always something to be done. Y/n was one of the youngest maids so she was never the one in charge of cooking and preparing dinner, instead she helped pour drinks and look over the children, which Y/n was thankful for since it didn’t require as much elbow grease as cooking for an abundance of people.  

“More wine Tomm...” she caught her mistake and made it up clearing her throat “Mr. Shelby?”

“Thank you, Y/n” He politely answered pretending he hadn’t heard her almost call him Tommy.

Y/n poured the wine with shaky hands hoping that nobody  had noticed her mistake and blushing cheeks. She knew Tommy didn’t mind her calling him by his name when they were alone, but she wasn’t sure if he would still be as lax on the topic if there were other people present.

As she poured some for Ada, Polly gave her nephew a knowing stare that indicated she had noticed and knew what it implied, which triggered complex emotions in Tommy.

He enjoyed Y/n’s company when she served him breakfast and lit the chimney in his office and when sometimes she engaged in conversation with him. She told him everything about her life, whimsical tales of mundane occurrences that sounded worthy of a novel. He wondered what kind of character he played in it.

He would be lying if he were to say that he only enjoyed having her around because she was good at her job. Truth was, Tommy felt infatuated with her and her bubbly smile and occasional kind words when he was feeling the world closing in, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it because she was much younger than him.

Y/n threw occasional smiles at Tommy through the night. She helped entertain the children while the other adults drank and enjoyed the evening. As the night progressed the alcohol began taking tolls, calling some to bed and inciting some others to questionable actions.

“Do you maybe want to go out sometime? Came Finn’s voice while Y/n tidied up around the kitchen.  

“Excuse me?” She asked even though she had heard him loud and clear.

“We should go out sometime” Finn spoke again in boozy confidence

“Um...” she began with an amused smile that disguised her discomfort for she wished the one asking were a different Shelby.

As if summoned by mention in a passing thought,  Tommy’s deep voice interrupted whatever excuse she was  machinating.

“Leave her be, Finn”

“But I’m not doing anything, Tom” he complained in a slur.

“You’re making a fool of yourself Finn” interrupted Arthur before dragging Finn away and out of the kitchen.

She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes lingered on her figure before he left the room after his brothers.

After a while everybody including all the maids had gone to bed, Y/n stayed behind to have a cup of tea in the kitchen so she could mull over her feelings for Tommy in peace.

She had been attracted to him since her arrival to arrow house, but what began like a stupid crush soon turned into more complex feelings. She was always looking forward to seeing him and talking to him at late hours of the night at his office when he couldn’t sleep. She had tried not to think too much into his stares and considerate actions, but her infatuation with him had reached a point in which she couldn’t pretend not to notice.

She wanted his actions to hide a deeper meaning and she believed they did, but she felt her reasoning was tainted by her own wants. Tommy was significantly older than her and she felt immature in comparison.

“I knew you’d still be here”

She knew he would come.

She looked up from her teacup to the kitchen door to see Tommy strolling in. She forced a smile and shoved all her thoughts about him aside.

“Want a cup?” She signaled to the teapot as Tommy leaned against a cupboard.

“Alright” he said and Yn poured him a cup. His eyes following her every move. Her features seemed to be highlighted by the moonlight flowing in through the window making her look more divine than ever despite the tiredness hiding in her movements.

She felt an old wave of nerves creeping up her spine, making her heart beat faster and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t the first time Tommy and her were alone together, but that night’s air weighed differently.  

“Im sorry about Finn” he commented while she poured the tea.

“Its alright” she spoke softly walking towards him “Thanks for coming to my rescue”

Tommy’s mouth curved into a small smile, the way it did whenever she was around.

“Anytime” he said

“You are staring” she commented when she handed him the cup, noticing his gaze.

Tommy hummed taking a sip of his tea before placing it on the counter behind him, not even attempting to deny her accusation. “You look beautiful”

Her cheeks turned a soft shade of scarlet and her heartbeat quickened at his words. She wasn’t expecting him to say that. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at his honest complement.

Feeling comforted by the intimacy that the kitchen late at night provided, he cupped her face as leaned close to her lips. Y/n  did the same in a heartbeat and when their lips came together she felt a thousand matches lighting up inside her body.

She melted into the kiss as it turned more passionate, Tommy’s hands went to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“Tell me to stop” he murmured against her lips.

“God no” she murmured back.

Tommy felt reassured knowing that she had wanted this just as badly as him and let himself get lost in the  soft moans and blissful sighs he coaxed from her with his wandering tongue and expert hands.  

Y/N hadn’t noticed Tommy began leading her to the table until she felt the cold surface against her lower back. Tommy prompted her up on it and smoothly hitched up her skirt. He ran his index finger teasingly along her clothed folds earning a whine from her pretty lips.

“Take them off Tommy” she pleaded.

Tommy complied and slid her underwear off her legs, his mind clouding at the sight of her, needy and wet in front of him. He kneeled in front of her and spread her legs open with his hands sending shivers through her body. Y/n felt her stomach drop in expectation at the sight of his handsome face close to her cunt.

“Tommy, ple..” Her place came short at the feeling of warm tongue on her sex. A teasing lick first that soon developed into passionate wet strokes and kisses  lapping against her folds and teasing at her entrance.

Her fingers tangled on his dark hair as she became a withering mess, submissive to Tommys experienced tongue. she felt her arousal building up, bringing her closer and close to the edge with each lick. She couldn’t get enough of him but she was eager to have him in her so bad.

“I need you inside me”

Tommy looked up at her with teasing eyes, her juices glistering on his chin and lips and when she felt the absence of his tongue on her she almost regretted being so impatient. But Tommy didn’t give her time to dwell on that regret when he went to passionately kiss her again and she felt his bulge through his trousers against her bare entrance.

Her impatient hands went to fumble with the buttons that held the basted trousers in place and Tommys went to assist her moments after, never breaking apart from the searing kiss, Y/n got a glimpse of Tommy’s cock and she felt like gasping when she felt Tommy guiding his head to tease at her entrance.

She moaned at the feeling and gasped when he pushed into her.

“So fucking tight” he whispered to her ear.

She sighed lewdly at his sinful praise and when he was fully inside her she felt so sinfully full she wondered how she could have lived for so long without this feeling.

She held onto his broad shoulders as he started pumping in and out of her, teasingly slow at first and speeding up deliciously with each thrust.

The table started creaking under her and the teacup and cup she had put there earlier fell off at their movements, loudly crashing onto the floor. She felt a twinge of concern about the noise, trying to break through the dense cloud of pleasure Tommy had summoned around her. However, Said concern became less and less concerning with each thrust of Tommy’s. It was the stuff of dreams.

He felt her clenching around his cock telling her that she was close. He wanted to make her cum, he needed to make her cum.  

He began rubbing circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves and soon after she came beautifully. Her legs tightened around his waist wanting to keep him close, still reeling in the aftershock of her orgasm as Tommy chased his own, which came not long after with a groan of her name. The expression of his face as he came into her was one Y/n knew would never leave her mind.

“What if somebody heard us?” She whispered as she collected her discarded garments with a smile.

“I hope they heard. Maybe that way Finn will know better next time”

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[cacoetheswriting]

for you and i

Pairings: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: honestly just pure fluff, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, implied smut (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.2k Summary: A small collection of moments throughout reader’s and Spencer’s evolving relationship that features their song. A/N: this symbol ~~ signifies a time jump.

A/N: i finished my rewatch of bones last night (im hella emotional), and one of my favourite “running gags” from the show is hot blooded being booths and brennans song, and how the writers reminded us of that from season to season. it definitely definitely inspired me to write this. also i did this instead of working on my assignment as a birthday gift from me to me lmao ENJOY

-

The plane trip back home was completely silent.

Morgan and JJ were catching up on much needed sleep. Emily, lost in thought, observed the night sky through the small window. Rossi was reading, as Hotch worked his way through some case files.

Spencer sat next to you at the far end of the jet. You were listening to music while his nose was buried in a book. Although you could tell he couldn't really concentrate on the words as the page remained unturned for the last fifteen minutes.

“Why don’t you let your eyes rest for a minute?” You suggested, carefully taking out one earphone. “A short nap could be good for you. It doesn’t look like you’re retaining any information anyway.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with you. He shut the novel in his lap and tilted his head to look at you, his lips pursed into a thin shy smile. “You should get some sleep too Y/N.”

“I’m okay.” You replied. “Plus someone has to keep watch in case the jet gets abducted by aliens or something.” A sly grin appeared on your face as Spencer chuckled softly. He rested his head against the chair and gradually closed his eyes.

You watched him for a moment. Examining his perfect features. Your innocent crush growing by the second - something you would never admit out loud in fear it would ruin your friendship.

When you were about to place the earpiece back in your ear, his eyes shot back open. He sighed heavily.

"I actually don’t think I can.” Spencer said quietly and once again turned his attention to you. His gaze briefly landed on the phone in your hands before travelling up to your face. “Did you know that in addition to aiding relaxation and helping with falling asleep quicker as well as improving sleep quality, playing music before bed can improve sleep efficiency? Which means more time you are in bed is actually spent sleeping.” You raised a curious brow waiting for him to continue, but he just asked: “Can I ask what you are listening to?”.

Instead of answering his question, you wiped the dangling earphone against your blouse and handed it to him. He took it, a little hesitantly, and placed it in his ear - the two of you unconsciously shifting closer to one another.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't know the song currently playing, nor did he particularly like it, but he didn't protest or ask you to skip it. In his eyes, you were kind enough to share your source of entertainment therefore he would never push to change what you were clearly enjoying.

The song ended, another began, and another, and another. Eventually Spencer closed his eyes again. The two of you continued to silently listen to the various songs on your playlist - a wild mix of different artists and genres, definitely showcasing your weird music taste.

Touch Me by The Doors began to play.

“I like this one.” Spencer muttered, eyes still closed. “I didn't peg you to be a rock fan.” You stated curiously. Spencer chuckled softly. “I wouldn't call myself a fan per se, this is just a very good song.” “This is actually my favourite song of theirs.” You proclaimed.

Sinking deeper in your seat, you quietly sang along. “What was that promise that you made?” To your pleasant surprise, the young doctor joined in. “Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?” 

Lost in the pure bliss of the moment, you gently rested your head against Spencer’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open. He glanced down at you and smiled to himself. Yes. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

~~

“Watch it!!!” You shouted and rudely gestured after the vehicle that overtook you out of nowhere, almost sliding right into your car. Frustrated, you ran your hands through your hair before placing them on the wheel again. A deep sigh escaping your lips in the process.

Spencer chuckled next to you. “Maybe next time I’ll drive.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, tone of your voice changing completely for a moment. “People are just so fucking stupid.” The groan was full of annoyance, and it only made the young doctor snicker louder.

“How about we turn on the radio?” Spencer suggested. “Cool you down a little since we have another hour drive ahead of us, and I would preferably like to get there in one piece.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but didn’t protest.

Taking your silence as a yes, Spencer fumbled with the car radio.

‘Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe’

Voice of Jim Morrison blared through the speakers. Instantly, your whole body loosened up. No longer feeling annoyed or angry. Driver’s rage dissipated. The frown circling your features was replaced by a happy smile.

‘Can't you see that I am not afraid?’

Stopping at a red light, you looked at Spencer who was lightly bopping his head to the beat of the music. His gentle curls bouncing with his every move.

“You know, the universe is telling us that this is our song now.” You noted. The young doctor met your gaze, and the grin present on his face made your heart skip a beat. A faint hit of nerves cascaded through your body as you anxiously waited for his response.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders slightly. “It’s a good song. The universe could have wished us a lot worse.”

As the light ahead turned green, and you were driving once again, the two of you burst into the chorus as loud as you possibly could: “Now, I'm going to love you! Till the heavens stop the rain!”.

~~

The bar was filled to the brim with people wanting to unwind after a long week of work. That included the BAU team.

“One more for the road!” Morgan exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. He motioned to Hotch for assistance and the two of them briskly walked off in the direction of the bar. “While they’re gone, I’m gonna hop to the loo.” Penelope chimed. “I’ll join you.” JJ spoke up and they hurried off.

Spencer sat beside you, shoulder pressed lightly to yours. He was sipping on the remainder of his drink and you were about to open your mouth to say something, engage him in conversation, when you heard it. The song. Your song.

Your head instantly snapped up at him and a mischievous grin spread on your face. By the time Spencer realised what was going on, you were up on your feet grabbing him by the arm, and pulling him onto the self-made dance floor.

You began to sway along to the music. The alcohol currently flowing through your veins definitely made you that much braver. It also gave Spencer the confidence boost he needed to join you with no objections.

Despite the questionable looks you were undoubtedly receiving, the two of you jumped around like kids. Singing the song out loud to one another. It was as if the world around you disappeared. Like you and Spencer were the only people left in the bar.

‘Till the stars fall from the sky’

And when the night concluded, when everyone said their goodbyes, Spencer continued to hum the melody of your song as he waited with you for the taxi. It was then you chose to make the first move - colliding your lips with his in a carefree kiss.

They were softer than you ever imagined. 

All at once, the attraction between you two and the tension that built up over the years burst. You grabbed onto his jacket pulling him even closer. Suddenly, the cold night air didn’t feel so cold anymore. It was hot, burning like a flame. Your body was on fire and so was his. 

Spencer’s long arms wrapped around you, trapping you in the fire. One of his hands moved lower down your back, while the other tightly gripped your hair. The sensation that he felt was unimaginable. He always imagined what you would taste like, although he never expected anything would happen. He imagined how your body would feel against his. How your lips taste. But this, this exceeded all expectations.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He said in a smoky voice after pulling away, his hands now holding your face. “That’s what I was going to say.” You managed to whisper before his lips landed on yours again. Your heart pounding hard inside your chest, it felt as if it was about to explode.

~~

Spencer huffed as he placed a heavy cardboard box down on the ground. He straightened himself, flattened down his crinkly t-shirt, and turned to you with a smile. “That’s the last of it.” He stated proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

“My hero.” You ambled towards him and pecked his lips. “Thank you.” His arms made their way around your waist, pulling you in close. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead before glancing around the room.

“I can’t believe we’re officially moved in together.”

“It’s been a longtime coming.”

“That it definitely has.” Spencer smiled kissing you. He let his arms fall and shuffled around to start unpacking. 

Having planned ahead, you removed a speaker from your handbag. You quickly set it up, connecting it to your phone, and pressed play to ease the process that would carry on into the night.

Starting with the kitchen, and the more fragile items, the two of you made your way through the new apartment. 

Hours passed. It was getting quite late as tiny yawns continuously escaped your lips. However, the hard work was paying off because space started to feel more and more like home.

You decided to finish up for the night - tomorrow was another day. Yawning, you leaned into the arms of your boyfriend. Spencer kissed the top of your head and began to sway you slowly from side to side.

Right on queue, the guitar intro you both recognised well began to play through the speakers. You smiled into his chest before breaking free from his embrace. 

‘Yeah! Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe Can't you see that I am not afraid’

Sharing a knowing look, you both started to dance. Not wanting to disrupt any neighbours you both chose not to sing along like you usually did. Instead, you mouthed the words in sync as if you were competing in a lip-sync battle.

‘What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?’

The two of you circled happily around one another. It wasn't long before the air guitars came into play. 

And as the song concluded, Spencer cupped your cheeks. “I love you.” He muttered, gazing deep into your eyes. “I love you too.” You replied smiling.

Without another word, Spencer’s lips crashed against yours. Both your heads tilting hungrily from side to side to vary pressure. Hearts hammering loudly. Your hands made their way up his muscled back as his hands traveled down your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Why don’t we move this party to the bedroom?” He suggested, his face still only inches away from yours. You lifted your hand, and brushed some of his light curls away behind his ear. “I do believe I read somewhere that it is considered bad luck not to christen the bed on the first night of living together.” You stated giggling. 

Spencer raised an interested brow. “What else does the article say?”

“How about I just show you.” And like that, your lips were on his once again as he blindly led you to the bed.

~~

“And now ladies and gentlemen we would like to bring out our newlyweds, Dr. & Mrs. Reid, to dance their first dance as husband and wife. Let’s give them a hand.”

Spencer turned to you, that warm kindhearted smile you loved so much circling his lips. He offered you his hand. “Mrs. Reid.” You took it gladly. “Dr. Reid.”

He led you to the middle of the dance floor and swiftly wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you close, while the other hand intertwined itself with yours. Music started to play and the two of you swayed elegantly from side to side.

“I have a surprise for you.” Spencer whispered in your ear before briefly pulling apart and twirling you around. 

Suddenly the music stopped. Sounds of disappointment echoed through the watching crowd as you shot your husband a quizzical look.

A melody you knew all too well filled the space.

Your mouth parted slightly in shock as Spencer let his arm fall from your waist. He spun you around once again and began rhythmically banging his head to the beat of the song. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before joining in.

Excited screams echoed through the crowd as they cheered on. Even though you heard them, you knew people were watching and documenting this moment, you felt as if there was no-one else around - déjà vu.

Spencer pressed his forehead lightly to yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. His lips twirled into a smile. A big smile that you reciprocated. Feeling as if you were on cloud nine, you looked deep into each others eyes and whole heartedly sang along with the song. Your song.

‘I'm going to love you Till the heavens stop the rain I'm going to love you Till the stars fall from the sky For you and I’

-

masterlist

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[the-tiniest-one]

Parenting Rock Lee with Might Guy :)

Note:@xemaliahrssx here ya go! I hope it tastes just like you dreamed it would!

Sitting at the kitchen table, watching Guy and Lee devour the dinner you made, had you feeling nostalgic... You watched with your head rested on your hand. It was the little family moments that you appreciated more than anything else these days. "Yeah! and then I caught him in a cross block!" Lee said, describing their latest mission, his mouth full of food.

"Haha yes yes (y/n) you should have been there, our Rock Lee is becoming a real force to be reckoned with, much like his handsome sensei" Guy said with a wink in your direction.

"Handsome indeed" you said with a grin.

Thinking back to the days when you were a little more of a workaholic made you laugh. If you told your younger-self all those years ago that you would be Konoha's worst helicopter parent in just a few years, you'd have never believed it. Guy was a perfect match for you in that regard. You two were a well oiled machine when it came to parenting.

While Lee could do no wrong in your eyes, Guy was a bit heavy handed in his discipline of Lee's skills as a shinobi. You kissed every bruise and scrape, while Guy was teaching him how to prevent them in the first place.

Rock Lee has had more than his fair share of the short-end-of-the- shit-stick his entire life. BUT One could be forgiven for not recognizing the true level of hardship the boy has overcome in his short tenure as a shinobi. Lee is a true underdog.

Lucky for him, you've always been a bit of a sucker for an underdog.

You thought back to those early days......

Even before Lee evolved to a mini version of your childhood crush, you felt the need to protect him. Watching him fumble and practice jutsu in vain day after day.....early in the morning and into the night. You would watch him from a distance while training your own team. One early morning, you decided to check in on the boy with long black hair. He kicked at a post, counting off as you looked on...10....11.....12.....his kicks were weak even for his young age. As he got closer to 50 he fell back, overwhelmed by the pain of repetitively beating his shins into the wood without chakra to safeguard his bones.

Clearly angry at his situation, the thought occurred to you that maybe he wasn't using chakra because he couldn't....the boy had tears streaming from his eyes. It broke your heart to watch a kid who couldn't be more than 10, cursing his life.

"A kid working that hard shouldn't have to feel that defeated..." you said to yourself.

You felt conflicted. Torn between wanting to step in and takeover his training...but feeling the weight of responsibility that would come with encouraging a child to chase a pipedream that would only lead to disappointment. You knew all too well what happens to weak ninja. The reality was that it would be cruel to encourage the boy to peruse a life as dangerous as that of a shinobi. You were no slouch when it came to taijutsu but ninjas are able to compete with one another because of the advantages that come with developing kakai genki.

Could a boy with no use of chakra stand a chance against the generations of those families of ninja who use fearsome jutsu and tactics like lightning...wind....wood or even hereditary gifts like the dreaded sharingan or byakugen? The real answer was sad and harsh. No. He couldn't.

You wouldn't be so irresponsible as to tell the boy he could be anything but a failure.

If he perused that path, he would die young.

So you stood back, restraining the desire to comfort and nurture the little boy out of what you told yourself was mercy. Day after day, week after week....you watched on....until it became too much. You couldn't sleep anymore, couldn't function on missions the same way. Always thinking back to him still out at those training grounds.....always struggling.

....

One morning it was pouring rain. You called off training that day for your team and headed out to the place you knew he would be. He was there of course. He was doing his best to catch a cold while practicing hand signs to no avail. After watching him for a few minutes you finally asked, "What's your name kid?" speaking loud to project over the rain. Startled he looked up to where you stood, perched on a post a few feat away. "I...Im Rock Lee" he said timidly. You laughed at his shy but sweet face, "Im y/n" you said.

"Your kicks look like they could use some work", holding your palm about chest high, to show him where his blow should be landing. The boy grimaced...clearly angry with his lack of direction in training. You laughed and the both of you worked on his kicks for the duration of the morning.

"I think you'll be a splendid ninja someday" you said as you offered him a bit of lunch you packed. The boy looked up at you with the most heartbreaking fear in his eyes, "I can't use chakra" Lee said barley above a whisper, clearly ashamed to tell you the truth.

You ruffled his hair. "Look kid, life is shitty sometimes. But I can tell you are someone who will never quit. No matter the odds, and that is something worth more than all the talent in the world." He instantly smiled up at you, melting your heart for what would be the first of a million times. Laughing and showing you also first time you saw that shiny smile that you would come to love more that anything on earth.

From then on he was your responsibility. Your chest burned with pride in his concrete determination. Feeling instantly the protective burn and feral instinct to insulate him from anything that would hurt him.

....

It was about a year later when things evolved. You and Lee had become close. He, being an orphan as you found out he was, had taken your invitation to live in your spare bedroom. It wasn't long before you were nagging him to be sure and eat breakfast before class, take baths every night. You were often hearing your mothers voice echo in your own as you guided the child to a structure he lacked.

You even went to his parent meetings at the Academy, much to the surprise of Iruka (because he himself was 2 years older than you and had known you since you were smol) laughed when you asked to see Lee's reports.

----

Then one hot summer day you got the order... your team was dispatched on your first extended mission with your new genin. 3 months on a C rank mission to Suna. Your heart sank as you remembered Lee's graduation exam was in just a few days. Before you left, you kissed his forehead and promised a tearful Lee who had become just as attached as you over the last year, that would bring him back a graduation present.

You just knew he would finally pass.

....

Returning to the village near midnight you couldn't wait to see Lee. After giving report to Lord Third, you quickly made your way home. Quietly cracking the door to his bedroom, you peaked in to see his sweet little face. The snoring boy looked peaceful.

"He cut his hair?" you thought puzzled..."he must have done it himself, it looks a little odd." You laughed at the thought of him using a bowl to cut his hair.

Then your eyes traveled to the headband still around his forehead, "He passed!!!" you quietly celebrated, careful not to wake him up. You placed the promised gift on his dresser, a brand-new set of num-chuks you'd had made in Suna.

The next morning you were up before sunrise making a celebratory breakfast when an extreme round of knocking came from the apartment's front door.

You quickly answered, immediately flustered when on the other side was none other than Might Guy....the same Guy you'd had the hots for over a decade.

"Y/N!, I must have the wrong address! I was looking for one of my students!" Guy said in his familiar boisterous cadence. Laughing nervously you started to respond, when behind you Lee pushed his way through the doorframe. Your eyes widened at the sight.

The haircut made sense now, Lee stood side by side with his sensei. He was wearing Guy's jumpsuit... they could have been father and son.

Looking at the two of them standing side by side in front of you for the first time gave you the most jarring sense of dejavu.

"Guy sensei! Look what Y/N brought me from her most dangerous mission!" Lee brandished the weapon, beaming up at his teacher who laughed and winked in your direction. "Ah, a great choice! Only the most skilled ninja know how to use such a fine weapon! We must enlighten you at once Lee my boy!" With that the handsome jonin and your sweet Rock Lee were off to train.

You had known Guy since he was still struggling to gain entrance to the Academy, you knew that the man who radiated confidence today, only earned that ability through blood, sweat, and tears.

You apprehensively accepted that Might Guy was a good match to be Lee's sensei.

"Be careful!" you called, more than a little apprehensive at the thought of your sweet baby boy training with such an admittedly impulsive man. Feeling a small tug of sadness as you watched the two of them disappear down the street.

"Lee's getting tall..." you though as you closed the door.

....

Over the next few years Lee had grown into a strong young man. You felt such extreme pride in everything he did. Even though you being in your mid-twenties were not nearly old enough to be Lee's mother, he had taken to occasionally calling you mom.

Lee was never embarrassed of you as he grew into a teen like some of the other kids his age. He was always just as willing to give you a hug before a mission as the day you met him.

It would be a lie to say that the relationship you and Guy shared hadn't also matured along the way. Although you weren't Lee's biological parents, anyone would be forgiven for thinking that you were. Everything you had admired about Guy, his hot-bloodedness, his devotion to youthful perseverance, his love of his village had been passed down to your surrogate son.

It was only natural that you and Guy would become a team in raising Rock Lee. Over time after a few years of dinners, training sessions, birthdays, holidays etc...Guy decided to propose to you.

It was a literal dream come true. You couldn't say yes fast enough. But as required when two shinobi become married, when you went to sign the paperwork to make your marriage official, requesting a stamp of approval from Lady Tsunade....she extended to you a folder with a second set of forms.

Guy beamed as you read the contents. Adoption papers with Lee's name printed at the top in bold.

"He will always be our son. Since we are making it official... why not add one more?" Guy said with a laugh. The tears began welling in your eyes. "He's 17" you laughed, "I love you" is all you could think to say in response to the most kind gesture you have ever witnessed.

Guy held his trademark thumbs up high as he replied, "Lee will always need his mom, no matter how big he gets!" His words like music to your heart...

You'd never felt so complete as you walked hand in hand with Guy, on your way home to surprise your sweet son with the news.

Upon telling Lee what the two of you had done, he looked from the papers back to you. Confusion spread across the sweet ravenette's features. "But I do not understand" Lee said with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Have you not always been my mom?"

The innocent look in his eye and profound sincerity in his voice made tears well in your eyes for what felt like the tenth time that day. You laughed and swept he and Guy into a hug that didn't last long enough. "What's for dinner?" the two men asked in unison and in that moment you knew you were the luckiest person in the world.

[estrel]

Christmas, Early Mornings, and How to be Free

destiel december 2020 prompt: decorating | wc: ~1.3k

[READ ON AO3]

Dean often forgets that angels don’t sleep.

The soft knock at his door at—he checks his clock—four in the morning, however, serves as a gentle reminder.

He sits up, brushing off popcorn crumbs from his shirt, and blearily rubs his eyes. Dean hadn’t been sleeping, per se, but he was drunk and dog tired, eyes burning from staring at his TV for what must have been hours on end.

His door opens and light from the hallway streams in, bright like the white-hot burn of an angel being killed. Dean blinks once, twice, and there stands his own angel, a hand on the door knob.

“Sorry to wake you,” Cas mutters. “Ah, Jack and I were wondering if you were—if you wanted to help us with something.”

Dean looks at the clock again, more for show than to actually read the time, before redirecting his gaze back to Cas.

“It’s four in the morning, Cas.”

Cas shifts his weight. “I don’t—”

“You don’t sleep,” Dean finishes for him, already throwing the blanket off of himself. The wave of cool air over his calves where his sweats ride up make him shiver. He pulls the fabric down back over them and stands.

“Yeah, I know. And lucky for you, I barely do.” Dean comes to a stop in front of Cas. “What’s up?”

Cas pushes the door open and turns, leading the way for Dean to follow.

“Jack and I—we were discussing the bible,” Cas starts.

“As you do.”

“—And Jack was curious about how humans celebrate the birth of Christ.”

“Uh-huh.” They step through the kitchen and Dean eyes a half-eaten snack on the table. He quickly nicks it, gives it a once-over, and takes a bite. The taste of chocolate caramel nougat makes him let out a low groan of satisfaction.

Cas shoots him a glare over his shoulder. Dean shrugs.

“He told me you all celebrated it once,” Cas continues, “Along with some other holidays, though I can’t imagine how I managed to miss that. Anyway, he has friends in town that celebrate the christian Christmas, and now he’s got…um, ideas.”

Dean frowns. “What ideas?”

They round the corner into the library, where Dean’s confronted with several large boxes that are set on the nearest table. Scattered around them are various decorations like ornaments, tinsel, and what look to be Santa hats in a few different colors and patterns. Dean’s gaze pulls away from the mess to look at Jack, who has his arms elbow-deep into the box nearest to him. He smiles wide at Dean.

“You’re awake! Hey—is-is that…my candy bar?”

Dean looks down at the bar and stuffs what’s left of it in his mouth. He holds a finger up when Jack pouts, chewing until he can form words.

“Finders keepers, kid,” he swallows, “It’s a lesson you gotta learn while you’re still young. What are you doin’, anyway? What’s all this crap you’ve got out?”

Jack’s smile is back as he pulls out an ornament. “Christmas! I thought we’d decorate.”

Dean blinks at him. “Dude. Four in the morning.”

He hears Cas sigh and turns his attention to him instead. “I’m serious! You couldn’t have waited a couple more hours? And hey, wait a second—how come I’m up and Sam’s nowhere to be seen? This is, like, his usual wake up time.”

“It is,” Cas says, “He’s actually out on a jog right now, he said he’d be back to help with the baking.”

“The—” Dean runs a hand over his face, pressing briefly over his eyes to wake himself better. They’d already done Christmas this year, and all the other holidays, for that matter. Of course…

He opens his eyes.

Not with Cas.

Dean lets his arm drop back to his side and strides the few steps over to Jack, picking his favorite ornaments out of the box from when Mrs. Butters had first showed them to him. He hands a blue one over to Jack.

“Besides,” Jack studies the bulb, “We’re starting late. Christmas is only a week away, and I know people who start decorating in November!”

“We don’t even have the tree up yet,” Dean grumbles in feigned annoyance. “Hell, we don’t even have a tree.”

“Sure we do,” Jack says. He turns and points over at the table behind them. A small tree no more than 16 inches tall stands bare in the middle of the table.

Dean stares at it, eyes wandering over to Cas after a beat for an explanation. He’s standing on the other side of Jack, now, and catches Dean’s gaze.

“It’s fake,” Cas says, “We found it with the decorations. It’s…a substitute—at most—for now.”

Dean nods slowly. “Okay,” he accepts.

After that he finds the smallest bulbs that won’t take up too much space on the little thing, passing them to Cas who hands them to Jack to put on the tree. Working like clockwork, the tree is decorated sooner rather than later, and Dean straightens up in time to hear the front door open with a metal squeal.

Sam steps inside, closing the door behind him, and looks down at the three of them with a smile. He pulls an earbud out.

“Nice tree,” he says, clamoring down the stairs.

Dean, feeling strangely defensive, mutters, “Up yours,” and rifles through the box for something to fling at him. He comes up short, but Jack rids them of Sam as he bounds off to meet him in the kitchen, giddy to start on their baking as soon as possible.

Dean pulls out a Santa hat in the wake of it just being him and Cas in the room and, holding his breath, turns to place it on Cas’ head.

Cas stares as Dean slips it on, adjusting it here and there so it sits right, pulling away lest it becomes too...

Cas catches his arm before Dean can withdraw it.

“How...How come I get to wear the hat and you don’t?”

Dean chuckles, pulling lightly in an attempt to get out of Cas’ grip. Cas tightens his hold by a fraction.

“’Cause you look better in hats? I dunno,” Dean mumbles. He feels his heart racing, chances a glance over to the kitchen where he can hear Sam and Jack clanging baking supplies around while they set up to make the cookies. 

His eyes meet Cas’ again, dropping momentarily to look at his lips before Dean forces them to stay on Cas’ baby blues. 

“That’s not true,” Cas frowns, “You are very attractive for someone of your gender and age.”

Dean swallows hard, face warm. “Yeah?” His voice comes out higher than intended, so he clears his throat before speaking again. “Thanks.”

Cas lets go of his wrist, backing away a little. “You are welcome.”

They stare at each other, transfixed, and Dean thinks Cas looks more innocent with this hat on, more so than, say, that cowboy hat Dean had made him wear once. Almost silly enough for Dean to let his guard down, to lean forward, and—

Cas' breath ghosts over his cheek and chin in their newfound proximity, faces just a few inches apart.

Dean licks his lips, once, and closes the space between them. He presses his lips softly to Cas', trembling a little due to the action. It's chaste, and feels simultaneously like it lasts an eternity and only a few seconds—something Dean thinks only Cas is capable of doing.

And he knows, dazedly, that it's likely the latter, even if a lifetime was lived in this moment alone. Dean pulls back to stare at Cas like he just hung the stars rather than some simple plastic ornaments on a dingy fake Christmas tree, holding his breath as he gages Cas' reaction.

This close, Dean can see Cas' pupils blown wide. The angel has that look about him that Dean remembers seeing a long time ago, like a soldier with newfound freedom—unsure where to go or how to use it.

Dean licks his lips again, and though his hands are still shaking when he lifts them to cup Cas' face, he feels his mouth smooth into a smile.

He ducks his head to kiss Cas again. And again. And again, until they hear the shout that the cookies are ready, and Dean takes Cas' hand in his.

Freedom isn’t a length of rope, Dean thinks, but rather a red string, tying them together and guiding them home every time without fail. Maybe they could teach each other, this time—about Christmas, early mornings, and how to be free.

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-lamp @jellydeans @writtenmemxries @cestladean @randomblabbling @fluffiestlou @dreamnovak @weird-dorky-little-d @depressivedemonnightmaredean @jackleslongcon @friedchickenangelwings @galaxycastiel @destielle @dickspeightjrs @on-a-bender @organicpurplepants @casbelieves @samuelswinchester @spacegirlstuff @seffersonjtarship @winchester-novak @professorerudite @squintingg @holmesemrys @imnotrevealingmyname @festivemish @good-things-do-happen-dean@angxlsgrxce @casandeans @castielscrookedtrenchcoat @destiel-in-its-natural-habitat @gracelesschoice @superduckbatrebel @iheardyourprayer @top13zepptraxx @that-one-fandom-chick @scoobydean @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh @maxguevra @cursed-or-not @i-think-im-humanbut-cant-besure @fitinmypoems @madilineskingdom @awolfnamedaliac @castee-yel @tearsofgrace @credentiast @fivefeetfangirl @my-favourite-hellatus @gray-is-neutral @sunflower-vol-28 @ensignabby @ar-bi-trary

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[jamilelucato]

Your Embrace

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Requests:

1. @witchglow​ hey love! congratulations on your followers! 🥺💗 can i request fred weasley x reader on which they are on the grimmauld place is not have beds for all so they have to share the bed, then they end up hugging or something like and the other day they wait and are super embarrassed, but in the end the two admit that they can share the bed whenever they want (im sorry if it got confused 😿) thank u, stay safe 💗😼💖

2. @whizbangs-78​ congrats on 1.5k followers!!! could i request a fred weasley x reader with the one bed trope pleaseee??? thank youuu c: also if you're requests for this are closed feel free to ignore thank youu c: congrats on the milestone, again!!

A/N: since the requests were very similar, I decided to combine both of them, hope you two like it! again, I can’t seem to write short fics.

Send a request! ||  Harry Potter Masterlist ||  Musical Hogwarts Series

It was late in the night when Professor McGonagall fetched you and all of the Weasleys to go to Dumbledore so you could all take a Portkey back to Grimmauld Place. The Professor said something had happened with Arthur Weasley; so all of his children, you and Harry were taken away from Hogwarts. 

It wasn’t the protocol getting you to travel too, but since you were awake when Professor McGonagall showed up in a hurry and told you to fetch Ginny, you managed to convince McGonagall that you would’ve to come with the Weasleys.

When finally there, nobody was able to stay still. 

Fred and George were desperately trying to convince someone to take them to St. Mungo’s, even though Sirius repeated that it was not the smartest thing to do. The best was waiting inside of the House of Black even if it was not easy.

You noticed Fred and George weren’t going to let Sirius have a moment of peace — if there could be one at this point — so you requested a tour around the place since it was your first time there.

Reluctantly, Fred and George walked you around the house.

“He’s gonna be alright, come on; you both know it,” you said while walking through some sort of music room — it had a piano at least. “Your dad’s tough.”

George sighed but remained in silence. It was Fred that spoke.

“You can’t be sure of that. ”

You sat down in the piano, running your fingers carelessly over the musical instrument. Thankfully, the sound that came of that wasn’t loud.

“I can’t, you’re right,” you lamented, gulping.

Fred and George stared at themselves — they were in opposite corners of the room — and then they looked down at you in the piano stool.

“Sorry I was rude,” gasped Fred, stepping closer to you.

He was already taller than you, but with you sitting, the difference started to actually hurt your neck.

You shrugged in response. Fred knew you weren’t mad at him, he didn’t need to hear you say it. However, for just a second, he gazed down at you, locked in your eyes. Those moments were happening with more frequency, and that kinda worried him. He was sure he was being too obvious, and you would soon realize you saw him as more than just friends.

But you were too worried about your own obviousness towards fancying Fred to notice he liked you as well.

George looked around the room, trying really hard to not make a sound and interrupt the moment. He knew how much his twin fancied you. He suspected you desired Fred too, but he wasn’t sure yet.

You fake coughed, totally ruining the moment on purpose. Gosh, if Fred finds out I like him, he’ll never talk to me again, you thought, turning to face the piano.

“Do you guys know how to play?” you asked, running your fingers over it once again.

Fred and George exchanged looks before bursting in laughter.

“Do you take us for pianists?” George asked back before laughing again.

You should have paid more attention — they seriously didn’t look like musicians. Even so, you three squizzed yourselves in the one stool and attempted to produce music. Each of the twins sat in one of your sides, and you had to concentrate a lot to act normal with Fred’s proximity. You two were practically breathing the same air. 

George’s here too, you freak, you thought, biting your inner cheek.

At ten past five in the morning, after a dozen attempts to play Für Elise — you three couldn’t even pass the third note —, Mrs Weasley stopped by the house.

As soon as Fred and George heard the doo, they jumped out of the stool.

“ ‘S gotta be mum,” said Fred. All the calm he had gained with playing the piano with you disappeared.

“Let’s see her,” said George and they walked away of the music room without waiting for you.

You sighed, closing the piano fallboard before getting up and heading out. 

Of course, you were worried about their father, but you were also very, very tired. They were sleeping when the Professor fetched them, but you had been wide awake by the fireplace trying to finish a book you were desperate to know the end. Now, you couldn’t care less.

When you got to the kitchen, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Fred and George were around Mrs Wealsey, analyzing every word she had to say.

“We can all go and see him later,” she finished saying. It was probably a phrase that had started before you got downstairs, but there was no need to hear more — if they could go see him, it meant he’d be alright.

Fred turned his face around, looking for you, and when he found your eyes, he pressed his lips together tightly. It was his way of saying he was sorry again because you actually turned out to be correct.

“Oh, y/N, my dear, I didn’t know you were here too,” said Mrs Weasley, interrupting your discreet moment with Fred.

“Yeah,” you said, having no idea of what to say beyond that. It was weird and unexpected your presence there. Not even Hermione was there, and she was always around Ron.

You didn’t spend much time with the whole Weasley family; just Hogwarts time with Fred and George. Sometimes, you’d share trips to Hogsmeade with Ginny, but that was it.

“The more, the merrier!” said Sirius, getting up from his chair with a tender smile.

“Sure hope you think that, Sirius, ‘cause we might stay for Christmas,” said Mrs Weasley, clenching her jaw.

Sirius chuckled. “If you promise to cook.”

“Of course!” smiled Mrs Weasley, and Ginny giggled in the back.

Breakfast was served, and it was weird eating it before having slept, but nobody seemed to care. It wasn’t as good as Hogwarts’ feasts, but you didn’t mind. The fact that you were actually there — headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, organization you only heard Fred and George mention — made the details unimportant.

“You five should sleep after eating,” said Mrs Weasley, who was up behind the chairs where Fred and George were sitting. “We can visit your dad later.”

Fred seemed about to protest when his mom touched his shoulder softly, but it was a clear warning for her son to not complain, and so, Fred shut.

Harry joined some minutes later, after a long conversation with Sirius Black — who was, to you, an honour to meet. You knew that, although the Ministry was painting him as a villain, he could only be pure of heart, so much Harry spoke well of the man.

“Fred, honey, would you mind sharing your bed with George?” asked Mrs Wealsey when she noticed that her boys had finish eating. “There won’t be an extra bed for y/N, I’m afraid.”

Fred snorted, annoyed, and said: “Mum, George can’t sleep still; you know how much he moves around!”

George didn’t even bother being offended — he knew his twin was telling the truth.

Mrs Weasley puckered her forehead, thinking an alternative through. Ginny couldn’t share the bed with you — the youngest Weasley had already gotten upstairs to her bed and was probably deep sleeping right now. Ron was never pleased with sharing, and she would never bother Harry, who was being a dear just help Arthur Weasley being rescued.

“I suppose you and y/N could share it then,” said Mrs Weasley, noticing that was her only option left. She concluded you and Fred would be too tired to try anything under her nose. She was only half right about that, though. “Take my bed that is bigger in the other room, and I take your single.”

George sighed with the thought of sleeping in the same room with his mom like a toddler.

You and Fred, on the other hand, couldn’t stand to look at each other. Every time you tried, you would feel your cheeks turning red, and you would look away.

However, neither of you complained to Mrs Weasley about it, scared to lose an opportunity to be closer to each other. After helping with the dishes, you both headed, side by side, to the mentioned room.

Fred cleared his throat as you lay with your bellies up, taking extreme care not to touch each other.

“Thanks for earlier, with the music and all. It was a great distraction,” Fred said, turning just enough to see your face.

Oh, how gorgeous she is! he thought.

Your hair loose over the pillow, his big hands rested over his abdomen, your faces blushed with the closeness... 

You turned to face Fred before replying. “My mum used to play me songs in our guitar back through the first war,” you said, biting your inside cheek, suddenly embarrassed fo sharing such a personal memory. 

Fred knew that your father had died in the first war, you two had talked about it before. But it was never something that caused you pain — you were much too young when he died. It was the days when growing up, seeing the neighbours’ kids with their fathers and you having only your mom — that was when it started hurting. And that was when your mom started playing music to calm you.

“I find it quite relaxing,” you said.

“I sure was relaxed with you,” Fred said before blushing, ashamed with his unexpected confession. 

You gulped, unsure of what to say or do. You decided it was best to remain silent because Fred probably felt relaxed with all of his friends.

There was nothing left to be said, and Fred really needed to sleep if he wanted to see his father later, so you returned to your first position — facing the ceiling. You never knew, but, without your eyes staring deep into his, he was finally able to fall asleep.

On the other hand, it took you a couple more minutes to travel to the dreamland. Knowing that Fred was closer than ever before made you feel more awake than if you had slept all day. Of course, that was just a false sensation your subconscious tricked you with — soon, you were sleeping too.

“Come on, love birds! Mum wants us to come now!” yelled a voice, pulling the blankets away from you.

“Be more gentle, George,” advised another voice.

“Come on, you two!” shouted the male voice again.

It toom you a couple of seconds to finally open your eyes and take a glimpse of who owned the voices that were disturbing the most peaceful nap you had ever gotten.

Ginny stared at you with a wan smile while George held in one of his hands the cosy blanket that was once over you. But their faces were hiding something, and it was just when George smirked to you that you decided to sit up.

Fred was thinking of doing the exact same thing as you, but he was having more trouble with it since you were practically all over him.

Yeah, that’s right.

The cosiness and warmness didn’t come from the blanket — it came from Fred Weasley.

He was still laying with his belly up, but over his abdomen, you had arranged yourself, in some sort of embrace or hug. So, obviously, you blushed right away — your whole face redder than the Weasleys’ hair.

Fred was blushing too, but since you had hidden your face over your pillow — the exact one you clearly didn’t use to sleep — you weren’t able to see.

“Get out,” he muttered with grinding teeth. George pretended to be angry and walked away, tossing the blanket over the bed with no caution. Ginny took one last glimpse around before whispering for you two to not be late.

Fred sighed before taking the pillow over your head.

“They’re gone,” he said with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry for... well, wherever was that. I probably am a sleepwalker or something; I swear I didn’t place myself over your chest on purpose,” you said, biting your lip and facing him with hope in your eyes — hope that he would believe you were not a maniac.

Fred wished you had done that on purpose because that had been the most comfortable he had ever felt in a bed.

“Don’t worry about it. Sorry about my siblings,” he said, finally getting up. “I’m gonna see my mum and make sure we’re going to St. Mungo’s too.”

“We?” you echoed the word out loud, but he had already left the room, and so, he didn’t hear.

You were planning on going with the Weasleys, sure, but you didn’t know they wanted you there as well. Well, at least Fred did.

You gave Fred a few minutes to get downstairs before you. When you got there, everybody seemed to be waiting just for you.

“Sorry for not waking you up earlier, dear. You both looked so relaxed,” said Mrs Weasley, stepping towards you. She held you by your shoulders. “I prepared both of you sandwiches, so you can eat faster.”

She let your shoulders go and grabbed one sandwich over the table — the second one was already half-eaten by Fred Weasley in the other corner of the kitchen. You were too embarrassed thinking that even Molly saw you hugging Fred in your sleep to say something other than thank you.

“Your trunks are here too,” the woman mentioned, with a small smile. Fred finished his sandwich, so you hurried to finish yours. “Tonks? Mad-Eye?”

With Mrs Weasley calling, both of the mentioned walked in the kitchen and Ginny rushed to Tonks, hugging her tightly.

“Nymphadora?” you asked, almost choking on the last bite. The short pink hair was the essential clue for you to connect the surname to the person. You just didn’t call Tonks Tonks, it was a childish habit, but it was unforgettable.

“Don’t call me...! Hey, it’s you!” exclaimed Tonks, as soon as Ginny freed her and ran to your side, hugging you. “You grew up, Merlin!”

You let out a hearty laugh while struggling to breath. Tonks finally freed you, but still stayed by your side. You knew each other because you were neighbours for a while, and often your mother alone could not take care of you — Nymphadora always offered (for a sickle a day) to babysit.

If it was up for you and Tonks, you’d have stayed the day talking, but Mrs Weasley kindly reminded there was a place you needed to be. 

The trip to St.Mungo’s was, to say the least, embarrassing. Every time Fred would lock eyes with you, your cheeks would turn red, and it felt like everyone knew how you too slept. Together, tightly, legs intertwine... Yeah, you had to fight yourself to not remember those things.

Thankfully, you and Tonks got a minute to talk when the family walked in with Harry to see Arthur Weasley. She told you everything about her job and how she liked to now be a part of the Order. “Sure Dumbledore will ask you to join when you come of age,” she even mentioned with a nudge of shoulders. 

The Weasleys trooped back into the corridor. Tonks glanced at you, but she already knew you weren’t going to come in, so she went in with Mad-Eye and closed the door behind them. Fred raised his eyebrows towards you — he wasn’t seriously expecting you had something to talk with his father, right? — but then George suggested to listen behind the door, and everybody was distracted for a moment.

After that espionage, Harry Potter started acting odd as ever, but definitely not more than you and Fred. Ginny and George would look from Fred to you, and then they would giggle. Somehow, that was making matters worse.

Back at the headquarters, things still weren’t easy.

“Ginny, would you mind sleeping with y/N?” whispered Mrs Weasley in what she hoped was a tone you wouldn’t hear, but you did. You stepped away as quickly as you had stepped in, and turned around, desperately trying not to overhear that conversation.

So Fred asked to not sleep with you again. That was presumable but still unpleasant. 

Ron asked for your help to decorate the house for Christmas, and you accepted gladly, hoping the task would take your mind out of Fred.

Ron was worried about Harry — he seemed to think whatever Harry heard Mad-Eye talk upset him. You agreed and added that Ron should just give Harry some time, without pushing him.

Ginny joined to help, and as soon as Ron went to the back to get a stair, Ginny rushed to your side and elbowed you.

“So, don’t know if you heard, but I told mum I wouldn’t sleep with you,” she said with a smile.

You almost dropped the ornament in your hand.

“Sorry?”

“So you can sleep with Fred again, duh!” she kept the smile on.

“Hm, Ginny, I’m pretty sure your brother doesn’t want that to happen again,” you said, avoiding to look at her happy face. “He asked your mum to change the place I was sleeping in.”

“What? No, y/N! Where did you get that idea? Mum’s the one trying to part you too,” Ginny laughed at your ridiculousness. “She thinks you two are secretly dating and she can’t let ‘Fred make her a grandma so early’.’’

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned to face Ginny, but first making sure no other Weasley was around.

“Her words, not mine,” added Ginny quickly and she burst into laughter staring at your silly face.

“Good Lord. I hope you corrected her about my relationship with Fred,” you sighed, pressing a hand over your heart. “I completely forgot she had gotten a glimpse at us this morning,” you whispered, just to yourself really.

“Why would I correct her? He wants you, you want him. Just a matter of time ’til she’s right” said Ginny and she started running away from you because the face you made was positively scary.

When decorations were up, and Christmas spirit was finally in the house, it was already time for bed again. Fred and George had gotten upstairs before you because you pretended to be really interested in Mrs Weasley’s knitting. The truth was you didn’t want to face Fred again.

You sighed, giving up in your fight. You should face Fred once and for all. Speak the truth, walk away and sleep in the couch downstairs.

But when you got into the room, and you saw his face, you just froze. He was laying on the bed with his belly up and his eyes closed — for a moment, you thought he was sleeping, but then his breathing wouldn’t be completely unregulated.

“Fred?” your voice was too high, and you ended up scaring him. He jumped up, sitting down immediately. “Sorry,” you muttered, sitting down in front of him.

You both breathed hard. Fred seemed to want to say something, but you would never know because you interrupted his half-open mouth with yours.

You kissed him in a rashed and inexperience way, after all, he didn’t expect that. And, honestly, neither did you.

Fred suspected that either you would ignore him forever and pretend that the nap shared in an embrace never happened or that you would hit him and kick him out of the room. Feeling your lips on his was a more fanciful idea than any he has ever had.

It took Fred a little while to get rid of the shock, but when he realized that you were kissing him because you wanted to, he gave in, pulling you by your waist and sitting you over his lap. He smirked in the middle of the kiss, causing you to let a slight giggle out. Your hands went from his cheekbone to his hair, and you played with it with pleasure.

“If I knew the way to your heart was napping with you, I’d have done it sooner,” Fred whispered, breathing hard when your lips were away from his.

You smiled, “you got to my heart way before you slept with me, Fred Weasley.”

He squeezed your waist, pushing you away just enough so he could see your face. You blushed when your eyes met.

“Good to know that,” he smiled too. “ ‘Cause I’ve been thinking all day that you were ignoring me, that you hated me... ”

“I thought you were ignoring me!”

You two giggled at your stupidy.

“Sorry for kissing you out of nowhere,” you sighed, slowly placing your hands on his shoulders.

“You are welcomed to do it anytime you want,” he said, looking down to your lap still over his.

“Like now?” you smirked too. “Because I feel we lost too much time sleeping today...”

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing,” he susurrated and smirked, pulling you closer to his chest and kissing you harder than before.

And this time was just perfect.

__

Bonus:

“So how was last night?” Ginny asked as soon as you steeped in the kitchen the next morning.

You could have stayed in bed curled in Fred forever — you sure wanted to— but you knew that if Mrs Weasley had any more reason to believe you and Fred were together, nights in the same bed would be over.

And so, doing the things you did last night would be way harder to achieve.

“What you mean?” you asked, grabbing a mug of hot cocoa.

“Please,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “See that look in my brother’s face? Last time I saw him that happy was when he got a new broom.”

You turned your face insignificantly to see Fred, who was sitting at the end of the table, eating some sort of bread with Geoge right next to him.

You frowned slightly to Ginny, who rolled her eyes more time.

“Good Merlin, I won’t be able to be two meters near you two, will I?”

You giggled and tried to hide your smile with the mug. Fred heard the sound of your laugh and instantly turned to your direction. His eyes wandered your whole face, and he fixed them in your mouth. He licked his lips before smiling and blink, and then he turned to his twin as if he was paying attention to George all along.

When your heart started beating again, the rest of the Weasleys and Sirius Black had gotten to the kitchen too.

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked Ron, but he shrugged. Harry was going through his own problems. “Well, anyway, pay up, will you, Ronniekins.”

“What?” he looked at Ginny, “wait, what?” he looked at you. “Couldn’t have waited one more night, could you?”

Ginny smiled when Ron tossed her a sickle.

“You guys placed a bet over Fred and me?” you whispered to the red-haired girl.

“Sure I did, and I won,” Ginny smiled while you rolled your eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, Fred lost. He said you would never like him back.”

Your eyes went from Ginny to Fred across the table, and for a minute while you looked at him, you forgot his entire family was there, and you sighed like a girl in love. Well, that was what you were anyway.

When you and Fred finally got time alone, you gave him a sickle.

“You should never have bet against us,” you said, placing the coin in his hand.

“Never doing that again,” he promised with a soft smile before pulling you close one more kiss.

[seancekitsch]

Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?  

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood.  He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't.  It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight. 

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you. 

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat.  He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks. 

[mizunetzu]

Can you do Daichi x male reader where Daichi asks his boyfriend to come over to meet his team and he forgets and goes home so Daichi give him a call and is like "where you at?" "I cant come I look like a clown." "I bet you dont look that bad." "No you dont get it im in full drag." So his boyfriend comes to the gym in full drag, booby and butt pads, and monster heels, and when he walked in it's like Kags that recognizes him as his drag name.

LMAOOJSKE DRAG QUEEN READEKRNRNF

——————

Daichi x reader - DRAG QUEEN?!

⚠️warnings - drag queen, college first year reader x high school 3rd year (if that’s even a warning skdjd)

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

Daichi said it on impulse, really.

“Do you guys...wanna meet my boyfriend?”

Everyone in the gym stopped. They were in middle of a practice match between themselves, and just when Yamaguchi was about to serve, he choked on air and missed the ball completely. The ball flew in the air, before landing somewhere near his feet.

Everyone stared at Daichi with a variety of expressions. Some shocked, some looking at him like he ‘said I’m gonna chop my dick off,’ and some who didn’t even care. (Tsukishima, obviously.) Ukai had to call timeout, since no one could focus after what Daichi blurted out.

Suga chuckled awkwardly, slinging a towel over his shoulders. “So uh, ahaha, your um...gay...?” His voice progressively died down into a whisper.

“Yeah. Is...that’s a problem?”

“No! No! I fully support y-“

“AND YOU CHOSE NOW TO TELL US? DUDE, WE COULD’VE LIKE, THROWN YOU A COMING-OUT PARTY!” Tanaka shook his captaincy the shoulders, while Noya squirted water into his mouth with his squeeze bottle.

“Well I don’t really mind, I’m already out, I was just asking if you wanted to meet him.”

“DO WE?! OF COURSE WE DO! DOES HE PLAY VOLLEYBALL?! DO YOU THINK HE COULD JOIN THE TEAM?!” Hinata jumped up and down, slowly inching is way towards Daichi with an awestruck look on his face. He’s rather surprised Hinata isn’t more shocked.

“Yeah. Uh-no, sorry. He doesn’t play.” Daichi chuckled, patting an excited looking hinata on the head. “I don’t think he has work tomorrow, so tomorrow’s really the only time he can come to practice.”

“Work?” Asahi looked up from the towel he was using to wipe off his sweat. “How old is he? Is he a third year?”

“He’s a first year in college. Actually-I think he goes to the college in Sendai.”

Asahi exhaled. It would’ve been weird if someone as young as a highschooler were to already be working, when the could be enjoying their time in classes or clubs. “Where does he work?”

Flashbacks of all the drag shows and money being thrown around a stage whipped across Daichis mind like a slap to the face. He’s sure the team wouldn’t mind, especially because they already don’t mind him having a boyfriend, but he isn’t sure if (Y/n) was ok with him telling his team he was a...y’know.

“...I’m not sure?”

————

“Oh-hello Daikkun! How was practice today?” (Y/n) opened the passenger seat to his door, waiting for him to step inside. Sometimes he liked to pick him up from school before he had to get in makeup for a night show. That didn’t stop him from doing a little bit of eyeliner, though.

“It was nice. I told them they could meet you soon. The team.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, you don’t have any shows tomorrow, right? I kind of told them tomorrow.” Daichi scrubbed at the back of his neck, while (y/n) started up his car. “I know you’ve wanted to meet them.”

“You bet your ass! Well-I mean I have a show at like 2 am but that doesn’t matter. What time can I come? Are they nice? Didn’t you say there was one who was really short but could jump as high as me in stilettos?”

“Oi-! Focus on the road!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just excited. Anyways! Can you come to my show tonight? I’ll sneak you in.”

“Every time I go to one of your drag shows I get scared someone will kick me out since I’m 17.”

“Dude, have you seen yourself?!” (Y/n) gestures over to Daichi, putting emphasis on his thigh-region. “You’re big and muscly enough to at least pass as 18. It’s just a one year difference, when’s your birthday again?”

“I can’t believe you forgot, I’m hurt.” Daichi chuckled, fiddling with his backpack straps on his lap. “Besides, doesn’t your show run kind of late today? I don’t get to choose when to take my classes like you, (L/n). And I have morning practice, so I need to sleep.”

“You’re no fun, Daikkun.”

“Yeah, yeah, My house is over there.”

————

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone for the nth time that day. Fanning himself dramatically, he huffed and buried his face into his pillow. There was nothing to do today, and since he took morning classes, that left him with the rest of the afternoon to ponder, before working at night.

Was there something to do today? Was he forgetting something? He felt like he was, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He glanced guilty at a tube of light pink lip gloss tossed haphazardly on his desk. A light bulb went off in his head.

Hastily throwing his covers off his body, (y/n) dragged himself over to his closet, grabbing the lip gloss in the process. He shuffled through hangers of clothes, finally pulling out a girls uniform he bought from when he was in high school. He never wore it to school, choosing to wear the boys uniform, but he thought it’d be nice to have when he was feeling fruity.

Slipping on the skirt and cardigan, he walked over to his desk mirror. He unscrewed the wand from the tube of lip gloss, tentatively applying it generously to his lips. He shrugged. He figured he could do some more makeup. It’s not like he’s busy today, right?

Carefully winging the tip of his eyeliner, he took a step back and admired himself in the mirror. He looked cute, yeah, but cute wasn’t really his style. It screamed ‘cute femboy’ rather than his usual ‘sexy ass drag queen dominatrix who could step on you with their sharp ass knife heels’

Damn. He was really about to go all out, huh? Time to bring out the butt pads and fake boobs.

————

Sighing contently in front of the mirror, (y/n) did a little spin, puffing out the length of his dress. Damn, he was hot. And with his impossibly high monster heels? Take me now.

(Y/n) was in the midst of taking a couple cute selfies in front of his full length mirror, when his screen went grey and a caller ID appeared.

‘Incoming call - Daikkun!! <3’

(Y/n) smiled unconsciously and clicked the bright green button with his thumb. He brought his phone to his ear and twirled a piece of his faux wig with his finger.

“Hi Daikkun! Did you need something, cutie?”

“Are you still coming over?” Daichis voice was hushed, and the slam of volleyballs rang though his speaker.

“Uh-what for?”

“To meet my team? Where are you?”

Fuck.

(Y/n) paled as he eyed himself in the mirror. He couldn’t show up looking like that. And it was too much to take off before Daichis practice ended. This was the only time he had to meet this team Daichi had always been talking about, and he’d completely forgot.

“...I can’t, I look like a clown.” (Y/n’s) voice came out a hoarse, nervous-chuckly whisper. He could taste the expensive red lipstick sitting on his lips.

“I’m sure you don’t look that bad.”

“Dude no, you don’t understand.” (Y/n) picked at the hem of his dress, the silicone boobs suddenly squeezing his chest a bit too tightly. “I’m in full drag.”

A silence rang out from both sides of the line. Daichi awkwardly chuckled.

“Ahaha uh-didn’t you say you didn’t have work today?”

“No! No I-I don’t have work til like-later later but like-I got bored and I forgot I was gonna meet your team today...sorry-“

“Well I’m sure they won’t mind if you show up in drag. I mean-they seemed pretty ok with knowing we’re a thing so...?”

(Y/n) gulped.

“...I guess I’ll see you in ten minutes then.”

—————

“Good work everyone!”

Ukai dismissed the players, leaving them to start rolling up the net and cleaning up the gym. Sugawara jogged up to the captain, dragging his mop lazily behind him.

“You said your boyfriend was gonna come today, right? Where is he?”

“Uh,” Daichi checked his wrist, before realizing he didn’t have a watch and fished out his phone. “He should be here any minute now-“

Just in time, the doors to the gym creaked open. Daichi smiled, leaving Suga to trail behind him curiously. He reached for the door handle, giving it a firm pull.

In stepped a boy with a long synthetic wig on, and heels that made him tower over Daichi easily. The sharp platforms of his heels clicked with each step he took, jewelry and accessories also bobbing up and down. And not to mention the ‘bobbling’ the silicone boobs made. Jeez, even if they were fake, they did still jiggle a hell of a lot.

(Y/n) bent down daintily, pressing a kiss onto Daichi’s cheek. Lipstick smeared on his sweaty cheek, leaving a dark imprint on the side of his face. (Y/n) seemed to finally take notice of all the astonished stares directed at him.

Should he A, stand beside his boyfriend awkwardly and pick at the loose thread of his dress or B, put on his confident drag persona and play it off?

He chose B.

(Y/n) smirked and leaned on on of his feet, placing a hand on his hip. “What? Like what you see, boys? I’m afraid I’m already taken, though.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck. Even with the confident display, (y/n) couldn’t help but stay somewhat behind Daichi, trying to shrink behind his 10 inch heels.

Immediately, a bald guy and a kid with a bleached strip on the front of his head erupted into excitement.

“Yo! Sick dress, dude!”

The atmosphere lightened up tremendously. (Y/n) let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Well thank you, Mr. Bleach strip.”

The bald one, who introduced himself as ‘Tanaka’, slapped Daichi on the back. “Dude! What’s with all the surprises?! You tell us you have a boyfriend but you didn’t tell us he was a drag queen?!”

“I-to be honest I didn’t know he was in drag today-I didn’t know he had work.”

The closet door opened, with Hinata and Kageyama walking out from placing the net inside. Hinata gasped excitedly, while Kageyama froze. Hinata practically bolted towards the unknown person wearing heels and jumped up to his height. (Y/n) choked on air. This kid practically flew at him.

“Wow! Are you one of those ‘drag queens’ I see on tv sometimes?! Cool! That’s so cool! I-“

“ARE YOU QUIMCHI?!”

Hinatas throat closed up, along with (y/n) after hearing his stage name being called out so...dramatically. The boy continued.

“...F-FROM THAT ONE INTERVIEW THEY DID ON THAT ONE CLUB ON THE LATE NIGHT SHOW WITH SHIN’ICHI HATORI?!”

Kageyamas booming voice rang through the gym as he pointed at (y/n) with wide eyes. Everyone’s gaze went from (y/n) to Kageyama, who was frozen in place. Even (y/n) was a tad bit confused.

The club he worked at recently had a special done on TV, and (y/n) was only in the background. He didn’t know how this...boy recognized him from that, or why he was even watching the drag special on that show in the first place.

“...yeah...yeah I am,” (y/n) smiled awkwardly and a boy with blond hair and glasses chuckled from somewhere in the gym.

The boy, with another guy with dark-green hair, walked out from the storage closet aswell. “Who knew the king was into that kind of stuff? Drag queens? No disrespect, ma’am-sir.”

Kageyama seemed to unfreeze just to glare at Tsukishima with a flushed face. “I-IM NOT! MY STUPID SISTERS JUST A BIG FAN, IS ALL!“

Kageyama turned to (y/n), and marched scarily fast towards him. He stopped abruptly and bowed his head so far it made (y/n) take a step back.

“M-MAY I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH FOR MY SISTER?! AN-AND MAYBE A PHOTO TOO?!” Kageyama stiffly held his arms to his sides as he kept his head down. Small chuckles and snorts sounded from all around the gym, (y/n) even joining in and patting the black haired boys head.

“Sure thing, doll.”

————

“Your team was nicer than I thought.”

Daichi looked up questionably, fastening his seatbelt. (Y/n) started up his car. “What do you mean, nicer?”

“Well-I thought they were gonna be a bunch of meatheads banging their heads together. They’re actually more interesting than I thought they were going to be. Especially that Kageyama guy.”

Daichi smiled contently. “I’m glad you like them, then.”

A comfortable silence breezed by them, the only sounds audible being the hum of the car engine and the soft tapping of Daichis nails against the armrest. Daichi stole a glance at (y/n). His wig was discarded, placed neatly on the backseat with the wig cap and hairpins resting underneath it, and his hair was slightly damp and messy due to being constricted. His lipstick was a bit smeared from when he kissed him on the cheek, and droplets of sweat gathered near his hairline.

Daichi set his fingers lightly on the spot where the lipstick mark sat, caressing it softly so the lipstick wouldn’t smear more that it already has. He exhaled softly and shifted his gaze back down. He wouldn’t mind if he came to his practice again.

“...so wanna come to my show tonight, Daikkun?”

“It’s at 2am, no.”

—————

Extra:

Kageyama: miwa.

Kageyama: MIWA.

Miwa sighed and checked her phone, sliently scolding her brother for bothering her. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. She swore, if Tobio wanted a ride home from practice...

Miwa: mm

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Miwa: DUDE

Miwa: AJDJSKDKF

Miwa: HOW THE FUCK

Miwa: TELL ME YOU GOT QUIMCHIS AUTOGRAPH DJFJDJE

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Kageyama: I DID. I GOT ONE FOR U AND ONE FOR ME

Kageyama: HE WAS SO TALL TOO

Kageyama: LIKE HE WAS A HALF FOOT TALLER THAN ME EVEN WITHOUT THE HEELS

Miwa: WHY WAS HE AT UR PRACTICE WHSHD

Kageyama: apparently he’s dating my captain

Miwa: WHAT RHE FUCKCIDNEBRJ

——————

[jade-of-mourning]

theformat wrote, "im floating with the birds im talking to the weeds look what youve done to me"

in which i spontaneously take several hours to translate nate’s awfully punctuated commentary on dog problems into Comprehensive English Words. partially so i can write my stupid essay on it for fun. but yes here you go, 4.2k words from a 2006 livejournal archive that i managed to snatch out of two saves. here’s a link if you want to read it from the source, but i’ll have you know it’s a nightmare. early 2000′s nate ruess learn how to type properly challenge.

theformat wrote,

[@ 2006-5-18 18:44:00]

"im floating with the birds im talking to the weeds look what youve done to me"

Hi,

Sitting on my couch, watching ESPN. Damn, it’s good to be home. Things have been pretty crazy the last 6 months. As a lot of you know, we were dropped by our label — we went and recorded a new record, labels became interested, [and] we decided to release it ourselves. We went on tour, and now I’m [...] home for the next week: my first week off in six months. What do I do? 

Well, my roommate and I got memberships to the YMCA down the street from our house. It’s an amazing place. Downtown Phoenix is pretty much an amazing place. It’s not like the rest of the state — speaking of which, I’m declaring war on Scottsdale, it’s the opposite of Downtown Phoenix.

Anyways, so I wake up at 9am every morning. I don’t know what it is, really — I’ve been a "pro" musician for about 3 years now, [and] we are supposed to wake up at 11 or 12. I know some dudes that wake up at 1, but no; since I’ve been home the last few days, I’ve been going to bed at 1 and waking up at 9. My roommate has a job, [so] I think it has to do with that. 

See, there are 3 showers total in our house. I have the big bedroom, so I have the big shower, [and] since I’ve been off on tour and recording, he has gotten used to the nice shower in my room (Which is fine — anyone that’s gotten close to me knows I’m not too fond of showers, so it’s not like I use it that much). So every morning around 8:45, I wake up to my door opening and my roommate going through my room to use the shower. 

You know what it’s like when you’re half asleep but you want to act like you’re awake so as not to freak someone out with all the crazy babble, but you just end up saying all the same crazy babble? I do that every morning. I turn and look at him and try to act like I wasn’t just dreaming about tootsie rolls and parrots that shatter like glass. "Hey [Roommate's Name], that was some game last night" [is what usually] comes out of my mouth — something to that extent — and I think he feels sorry for me, but continues to walk right into my bathroom, and use the shower. 

At this point, I’m awake. I usually have to pee, and I have to then use his restroom. It’s a terrible swap, and it always ends with me wide awake on my front porch (har har) smoking a cigarette and wondering how the hell I’m gonna fall back asleep when the air conditioning is broken. Ah, what a wonderful life at home, [but] that’s the weird thing — I love it. Now we wake up and we go to the [YMCA]. We run, we play basketball, we jump in the pool, we play pool basketball, we get yelled at for dunking the ball. We don’t use soap before we go into the sauna, and the night usually ends with a poker tournament. This is the life I love to live when I’m away from the road. It too is the opposite of Scottsdale. It’s who I am, [and] it’s pretty much who I’ve become.

See, for the last 23 years, it’s been about the highs and the lows for me. I’ve got an addictive personality, [so] I stay away from a lot of things because of this; however, when I find things, I get generally excited. I go crazy. It’s all I think about and all I do for the next howeverlong. For the first 23 years, it was either talking non-stop or locking myself in my room. It’s either great or terrible; not good or bad. Dog Problems changed that.

Initially, Dog Problems was supposed to be that — the original concept of Dog Problems was to be 2 sides of music, the first half taking over where Interventions [+ Lullabies] had left off: "We'll be together in the morning…"

We weren’t, in fact. We were over before Interventions was even released. We were over two weeks after it was recorded, [and] I spent the next 2 years feeling terrible. We got back together… we broke up… we got dogs… we broke up… we got back together and got dogs…

I was still miserable, but I wanted Dog Problems to get me through everything. I wanted it to help me, not anyone else — just me. The first side was supposed to be me down in the dumps [and] everything that went down: how the two of us were dealing with it differently, [and] the second half was supposed to be a realization.

The first inkling of realization was a day [when] we were on tour. We were all laughing about something I’m sure Marko or Adam said. Here I was supposed to be depressed, but the fact that I can spend all of my days in different states with my best friends, all of us doing what we love — that was major! Then my mom called… I’ve got my parents! My friends! What else could I possibly need?

At that point, I felt as if a relationship in a Michael Bolton sort of way didn’t mean anything. It was the people you surrounded yourself with — those were the people that made the difference, and that was going to be side two. I was convinced that when I just closed my eyes and thought about the wonderful people around me, I was going to be great. Not good, [but] great.

I didn’t get that far, no. I got back into the relationship. 

I was sure it was going to work. At that point, life would be perfect, and we all want perfection right? [But] things went right back to far from perfect. Things went to terrible. I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself, but I had a concept. At that point, I figured that even by singing and recording these positive songs I was going to feel better, so Sam showed me what was then just a short acoustic guitar version of Snails.

This was it. This was my first chance to prove to myself that life can be beautiful. The thing is, I had never been more miserable. I remember writing the lyrics to Snails: my roommate was at work, I was on the bed, on my night stand was a giant bottle of booze, and somewhere off in California she wasn’t calling me back on a Friday night. So I went to work, listened [to it] over and over. I wanted to get it right; I wanted to be positive. I passed out, then I woke up the next morning [with a] big headache (P.S. drinking is not really that cool; it’s cool when you condemn it for the first 22 years of your life, then it becomes not cool, then it becomes ok when you moderate yourself) and I started writing everything positive I could think of. [...] Snails was, in Sam’s mind, supposed to be a 2 minute kid’s song, [but] I wrote so much that there was no going back. I thought that was it — Snails solved all of my problems.

It didn’t get that far either. Nothing could shake the depression, [and] I really started to worry about myself. Here I want to feel great, but I only feel terrible, [and] a few months later it got really really bad. I had to go to my parents house that night, I didn’t want to be at my house. I wanted to feel like a kid.

It’s funny how we always want to be adults when we're younger. We want to drive cars, we want to have girlfriends. I still didn’t consider myself an adult — all I wanted was to come home, be tucked in, know that everything was going to be alright. I woke up the next day [and found out] she met someone new. I’ve got to figure myself out…

In the meantime, we've got 4 songs we are recording over at our friend Aaron’s house (he is an amazing producer and [...] musician, and his house and his roommates have gotten me through a lot of tough times. They’re some of the only people I know who would rather spend their Saturdays getting dinner and watching a movie instead of going to a party. I like that). All of this turmoil in my relationship was going on at the time, and I was trying to write side two [but] I couldn’t. There was more fuel to side one. These songs have to be done, so I wrote about what I knew, and at that point I knew how to feel terrible.

So much for side two. Dog Problems is going to be one giant mess of depression and "look what you’ve done to me".

Atlantic got those four songs, as well as a few others. They were not psyched, to say the least, but some people at the label actually cared about it enough to say "go record". So we were able to pick our producer, we met with a few people, talked to a few more. Things were looking up. Dog Problems was going to happen. 

I remember meeting Steve McDonald at his house — Sam and I were excited to be [there] because we knew his wife Anna would probably be there. Anna was the lead singer/songwriter for a band we used to obsess about called "That Dog", her brother was one of the ten drummers in the world that I actually liked, so Steve couldn't be so bad. And he wanted to produce our record, so he had to be pretty cool! 

He was just that, and more. Sam and I were eating every word that came out of his mouth. He had stories; he was young, hip, energetic, and yet very all knowing. We saw someone that was going to let us do whatever we wanted to do, and in the meantime he was going to make us laugh and make sure we didn't lose our minds. From that point on, I knew there was someone I could always trust. I made a friend pretty quick.

Things were moving forward. Steve McDonald was to be the producer. I hated Los Angeles so there was no way in hell I was going to record there, [so] we decided Palm Springs would be perfect. Weird, but perfect. I had a phone conversation with Steve that night and we were finalizing everything. I was going to call Atlantic in the morning and let them know just how everything was going to work, [but] I didn't get that far.

I was sleeping in a blowup bed at the house when my phone rang. I didn’t wake up and answer like it was my roommate and he was coming into my room to use my shower, [because] this call felt different. Right away, I was awake.

It was our manager: "You’ve been dropped." 

When I heard that, the first thought going through my mind wasn’t "Oh man...how are we going to be famous now and make boat loads of money?" It was more like "fuck...but Dog Problems. We were supposed to go make Dog Problems."

The thing is, Atlantic wasn’t into Dog Problems. They were into whatever it was they thought we were. Never had The First Single made more sense — what was supposed to be a song about getting the band started and doing something with it had actually turned into a song about how stuck we were in the labels eyes because of the song. I was past that; we're proud of something we wrote when we were 19 and 20, but when I think of music, I think of progression. 

I think of all of the wonderful records I had been introduced to when I had nothing to do riding in a van. I think of all of the new influences, all the instruments, all of the "How did they do that?" And I think of how much it gets me through everything.

Music has been the consecutive[ly] great[est] thing in my life. It’s been that one thing, and with Dog Problems, it wasn’t about "I want everyone to sing along because I can write a catchy song." It was about feeling. It was paying tribute to all of the bands that we obsessively listened to. It was for Harry Nilsson and Van Dyke Parks, it was for Jellyfish and XTC. It was our way of saying thanks for making our lives better, whether it be lyrically or musically. It was never about being something, being told something, and sticking to something. It was an adventure, for the artist and for the listener.

[And] they didn't get that. They wanted the old record, the old songs, just with different words and a few different chords here and there. They didn’t care about Snails or Dog problems [or] what it meant to write those songs. They knew it wasn't going to be huge; the guitars were not big enough (if big guitars are your thing that’s fine, it’s just not really our thing right now); it wasn’t going to be competitive, and so they dropped us. And rightfully so: we weren’t going to change, and obviously the major label business is never going to change, [so] now it comes down to who goes down first. And we weren’t ready to go down.

Sam and I had conversations about it, whether the business end of things have been fucking with us so much that we'll never be sane enough to just enjoy it. We thought about getting out — it wasn’t [be]cause we hated each other, or the songs; it was because we hated the business.

Steve called to let us know that he was still onboard, label or not, [and] we let him know we were still on board. We were going to make this record, [and] I was going to feel great! But the record was going to cost something. How could we afford it? 

We were lucky that we had a management company like Nettwerk. Not only are they the most forward-thinking music business people around, [but] they’re also (for the most part) Canadian. Oh, and they care a shit load about the music we make. They could have waited for the ship to sink, but they told us they would pay for the record if need be. Fortunately, we were able to get money for getting dropped — Atlantic actually paid us to leave, so we could afford the recording ourselves. The only stipulation was that it had to be done quicker, and when you want something quick, you have to go to the "right here, right now" capitol of the world: Los Angeles. I was a little irked at the thought at first, then Steve said it was his personal goal to make LA a wonderful city for me. Like I said, I would jump off a cliff if Steve said it was the best way to get coffee, but I wasn’t jumping off of cliffs. I was too excited to make Dog Problems, [so] LA it was.

Sam and I moved to the "Silver Palace" in Silverlake California in the middle of December. We found an amazing studio in Burbank, California and an amazing engineer in Ken Sluiter, and our goal was to just do everything free from a record label and someone constantly messing up the recording process by saying things like "that’s not high octave enough". The only pressure we had at all was from our manager saying "You have a tour you accepted in March, [so] get it done by then.” Other than that, it was me, Sam, Steve, and Ken working 13 hours a day for 6 days a week.

It became our lives we were putting so much of ourselves into. Everyone that worked and played on the record was the same way when they were there contributing. I would leave the studio at 2 in the morning and wake up at 10 to be at the studio by 11. There was no free time — the four of us were so invested in this. We all bought into the concept. 

In the meantime, things outside of the studio were getting interesting. We had a lot of labels calling and constantly asking about it. During one week of recording, I remember at least 3 different label people coming down to the studio. Our minds weren’t made up as to what we were doing with the record once it was recorded — all we wanted to do was finish it — but we kept our options open and let people sit in the big chair and listen to what we had been working on. The response was overwhelmingly positive, but we didn’t really think about it too much beyond the compliments we were receiving. Sam and I got used to LA — I was 10 minutes away from where I had been the previous summer when I was back "on" in my “on and off" relationship. I was ten minutes from her, she was calling every day, I was singing about it… but how was it not getting to me? Why did I not care?

My phone was off. I woke up in Silverlake one morning and started wondering why for the last month I had a smile on my face. Sure, I was down at times, but the thing that had been bringing me down for 3 years was now the last thing on my mind. Apparently, it had been that way for awhile. Something that took 3 years to get over… I was finally just okay with it. No big realization — just the fact that things happen. People make mistakes. And I came out of it alright. I was good; not great… I was good, and that felt good.

I wasn’t looking for great anymore. I was okay. The last song on Dog Problems is all about that. Here, this record was supposed to be the downs, and the ups, and it ended with the middle: the realization that I don’t need to be talking; I don’t need to be locked in my room — I need to enjoy what’s going on around me. And if things go wrong, they go wrong. There’s always tomorrow.

Dog Problems means so much to me in so many different ways. I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life. I cried so many times during the making of the record. All the money I had spent on therapy, and all I had to do was go make a record, realize that I’m alright, and realize that I made something that I’ll forever be proud of.

Shit… the record was supposed to be about how California can change you for the worse, [but] it played a huge part in doing the opposite!

So as we were putting the finishing touches on the record (all our friends came in and recorded! A ton of people we admired came and worked on the record! All of their responses were so positive that it's hard not to get an ego about it. These are the people I worship. They’re the ones I wanted to pay tribute to, and they think we've made something unique and special. It’s like Michael Jordan telling you that you have a nice jump shot (no more sports references… I swear I’m done)) and we started to think about what we were going to do with it. How we were going to release it. Labels were getting pretty into it, and we knew we would have to make a decision soon.

After much debate and discussion, we decided that the record was something we had made completely on our own, so why not release it completely on our own? Nettwerk was going to take care of the distribution so it would have a major label distro. It would be inside all of the Best Buys; what more did we want? We didn’t want a big fat check — we did that last time. It made us miserable, and nothing came out of it. Barely anyone at the labels helped us, we weren’t making music videos, our songs weren’t on the radio, so why would we take their criticism? After all, everything that we’ve done — any success we’ve had is from being real people who make music. From showing up to play, from 3 years on the road. 

On Interventions [+ Lullabies], there might have been an Elektra logo on the back of the record, but it ended right there. We were the ones SHOWING people who we were. I wouldn’t have it any other way — no one knows us better than ourselves, so why not release it ourselves? To me, it’s not only a testament to the hard work we put into the band (Mike, Don, Marko, Toco, everyone else involved in putting these songs to life — you guys are the best thing we have. It’s pretty special when your best friends are some of the most talented musicians), but I really feel like the people who come to our shows are such good people that they don’t give a fuck what label it’s on.

They are there because we are doing something positive, and because we care about them as much as they care about us. So for the time being we've said "fuck the middleman": we're the only people we can blame at this point. I’m so tired of even talking about major labels and the split and everything like this. The music is the only thing I care about. Dog Problems is the only thing I care about, so why let someone else ruin it?

The Vanity Label was born.

The record got finished. We had no time to rehearse, and we had to go right back out to tour. Our first show before the Motion City Soundtrack tour was in Nashville — I remember the last time we were in Nashville, there were about ten kids. Reuben’s accomplice kept asking them why they hate whales, so we figured why not go there and get some of the rust out of the way. After all, we haven't toured in a year so there should be like 3 kids there; we can mess up if need be.

Unfortunately, we were not allowed to mess up. On a Sunday night in Nashville, with Ted Leo playing across the street (I <3 Ted), our first headlining show outside of Arizona in almost a year was over sold out. What the fuck happened? 

We thought we were going to have to play for another 3 years just to get back to where we were when we left, and yet it’s sold out on a Sunday night? It didn’t end there either — the whole tour went like that… night after night ("nite after nite?"). I couldn't believe it. As if having Dog Problems wasn’t enough, now we have people showing their support in the most positive way: coming to the shows, being there from the only thing they knew before. Those two months were such good months. It was the last thing I expected. Thanks so much to all the bands that played with us, and thanks so much for everyone that came to the shows and sang along. We'll be back in July.

In the meantime, things were going great on the Vanity Label front. Business actually felt natural. We are shooting a video with the directors we had always dreamed of doing a video with (it won’t be serious...no pouty face). There were magazines like AP and online magazines like AP taking notice, supporting the whole idea and concept. We actually took press photos. I’ve never been through any of this before, it’s exciting. I don’t think it’s going to change who we are, not one bit, but it’s still exciting to see people who can help out actually help out.

So where does that leave me now? Sitting on my bed. I’ve rambled for hours, the air still doesn't work, and I’ve been told that Dog Problems (something that isn't supposed to come out till July) has been leaked. Not the best news when you just got out of the pool, but it happens. I freaked out at first — I thought I was going to lock myself in my room. After all, this is something that we spent over two years making. It’s something that you have to take the time… listen to in headphones… play loud… listen to in order of the tracks… the artwork… Sam did the best artwork he has ever done. The packaging is something we paid extra for because Sam’s concept was so brilliant, and now… it’s leaked on the internet? I was locking my door, then our manager called.

"Hello?" 

"We're releasing it on the website today." 

"Wow."

So, here goes. You’ve read enough. I shouldn’t have to go on about it anymore, but I will say, if you wanna wait for the full hard copy release then do so. It’s July 11 — we are gonna be touring right after that — but if you want to get it now,.please do it by purchasing it right here. We released it, it’s our money, it’s our little baby — you should take the time to listen to it all the way through, free of distraction. You should turn the songs into your own. It’s an adventure, and it’s something that we put everything we have into; and if anyone deserves it first, it’s you guys who have been here with us all along.

Without further ado...

"Dog Problems"

- Nate

[ephyla]

Midsummer Relaxation

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely sets anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast but all he desired was a break. Thank the Gods for marrying such a wonderful woman.

oOo

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over the village for days, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely set anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted, prone to often make mistakes that drove the Chief of New Berk wild. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast, but also had to settle petty quarrels between sleep-deprived Vikings; avoiding sharp flying objects on the occasion. It was the perfect recipe for chaos and he was worried that they will not be ready on time. If one thing went according to plan, three more things would set them back again. Food went missing, tables were broken, celebrative outfits were set on fire. All he wanted to do relax, he felt like he’s been awake for seven days straight and his mind isn’t cooperating anymore, just begging to shut down for a whole month. By now, he was just acting like a wandering draugr. He really wondered how his father managed to handle this without breaking a sweat and dearly wished he was by his side, guiding him. 

His wife was by his side the entire time, shouldering half of the responsibilities. Even she, despite being quite tired as well (he swore he saw her take a power nap on top of a ladder last time), handled it better than himself. She seemed to be fuelled by a spark of positive energy. He remembered a few years back when the twins explained the change in their friends’ attitude towards the Midnight Sun, since then, Astrid found a dark place to sleep so she doesn’t get any more of those embarrassing memories again. What kind of Hofferson would ever call a Jorgenson handsome? Of course, the sun still had its effects on her, but her overzealous demeanour toned down to a bearable extent. While it did seem a bit overwhelming sometimes, it kept Hiccup’s spirits up. It was their first Midsummer as a wedded couple and he really didn’t want to mess this up. 

Today, however, she had suddenly requested to immediately go home after being done with only half of her duties done. For someone who prides herself on being so effective and getting the work done, it was very unusual of her to abandon her responsibilities. This worried Hiccup, so he didn’t object and watched her dash towards their house. He didn’t know how much time passed, the sun remained in its usual elevated position, but he felt like tonight will be a four blocks of ice kind of night. He felt like there was absolutely no progress made today despite getting up in the early hours. He couldn’t even track the time since the sun was barely moving. Some muttonhead decided it was a smart idea to open Sven’s sheeps’ pen and let the uncoordinated Vikings chase them like toddlers who could barely walk yet. If he could get his hands on that person, he swore he was going to get an earful that even his late father, Stoick, would be impressed by. He hoped that Astrid got enough rest so she can go back to being her feisty, short-tempered self. He would greatly benefit from that. The Berkians, despite being completely out of control, would never cross with a hot-blooded, axe-wielding Valkyrie and would sober up at the speed of light. 

Speaking of his beloved blonde wife, he saw her approach him with a smile on her face. Even though he was absolutely exhausted, he smiled back, her presence bringing him a sense of comfort. He extended his hand to her and she took it, bringing her closer to him, enlacing her waist, and pressing small kisses on her neck. She giggled in a very un-Astridlike way. 

“Well, I’m not one to object to this kind of greeting, but we’re in the middle of town and people are looking.” Astrid said as she observed around her. Gobber was covering a kid’s eyes. Some villagers had a dumbfounded expression on their faces, rarely seeing Hiccup initiating such an intimate gesture; apart from the occasional lip or forehead kiss. Others just cheered or ignored them. Hiccup let out a small whine and rested his head on her shoulder, keeping his arms wrapped around her form. 

“I missed you.” He whimpered.

“I wasn’t gone for that long, babe.” She replied as she stroked his hair. Her poor husband has the bad habit of overworking himself, and the fact that no one can distinguish between day and night definitely didn’t help. “Come home with me, I have something to show you.” 

“I’m sorry Milady, I still have work to do, we’re behind schedule and Midsummer is in a week.” His reply a bit muffled in her shoulder.

“Go and have yer fun, lad. You’ve worked more than anyone here and deserve some respite. And besides, how can ye refuse yer wife’s invitation?” The young couple turned their heads to look at Gobber approaching them.  “Ah, I remember when Stoick was acting just like ye, never knowing when to stop. It took Valka threatening not to share their marital bed anymore, snapped ‘im right out of it, and practically dragged ‘im home. The next morning they kept yawning all over the place, creating a chain of never-ending yawns. Now that I think about it, that’s probably how ye were concei-“

“-OKAY! That’s enough Gobber. I got your point.” Hiccup exclaimed in horror. While he was used to hanging around people that did not have a filter, Gobber was probably the one he feared the most. Since his best friend’s demise, the blacksmith has been recounting stories of him. Some were great to listen to, remembering the bravery and leadership of Stoick the Vast; but some were just better to keep to oneself. With the approach of the Midnight Sun’s peak, Gobber has gotten worse and Hiccup would’ve much preferred wearing the earbuds he made once during his encounter with the Death Song, just to save himself of the embarrassing images his mentor so crassly described to him. 

Astrid looked at Gobber with a mixture of disgust and amusement, before deciding to grab her stunned husband’s arm and pulling him towards their house, away from the growing crowd of curious Vikings. She hoped her parents didn’t witness this whole ordeal. 

“Astrid, I don’t think I have the energy to do what Gobber obnoxiously suggested, maybe-“ Hiccup said as he was being pulled by his wife.

“-Hush you. That’s not what I had in mind when I came to get you.” She cut him off, continuing to pull him towards their house. She let go of his arm once they crossed their threshold’s doorframe and closed the door, locked it just in case those nosy Vikings decided to rudely barge in. 

After being exposed to the sunlight for so long, Hiccup’s eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room, illuminated by a couple of candles. He could smell a pleasant fragrant scent in the room and spotted their bathtub in front of the lit fireplace; the rugs been removed. Astrid led him to the bathtub and sat him down on the chair that was deliberately placed right next to it. She saw his questioning gaze.

“Gobber was right about you working harder than anyone here in this village. You deserve to relax a bit, take some time off.”

“You know I can’t afford to relax, now. Not when Midsommer is so close. Those sleep-deprived Vikings aren’t going to lead themselves, they can barely listen to me when I’m there. I’ll rest once we’re done.” He said, preparing to stand up again. Astrid pushed him down.

“I’ve asked your mom to take your place for a bit. She’s surprisingly unaffected by the sun’s constant presence. And she agreed that you needed a day off. Everyone could see how tired you are.” Astrid started unbuttoning his (GUARD STUFF). “And I want to take care of my husband. Will you let me?” Hiccup gulped, his words not coming out. He simply nodded. It’s been a while since she saw him being bashful around her. She gratefully smiled at him and pecked him on the lips. 

She proceeded to fully undress him, and took off his prosthetic, placing it within reach of the chair. Gone were the days Hiccup felt ashamed of showing his scar. Astrid made sure to show him how much he meant to her, leg or no leg. When he was coming home after a rough day of chiefing, she would give him his ice blocks and tell him to take care of his migraines while she took care of his leg, massaging it. She would sometimes bring it to her lips and kiss it, showing her appreciation to him. He would always beam at her every time she did this. She frowned when she saw the current redness of his stump, also spotting a blister forming. 

“Let me help you get in the tub. Just relax. I’ll massage your leg when I come back, I’m going to get some food from the Great Hall.” She said as she rose from her kneeling position. Her cooking did improve over time thanks to Hiccup and Gobber, but she wanted his day off to be perfect, which wasn’t the case for her cooking yet. She tried to make a nice intricate meal for the two of them, which is why she left so early. However, her attempts were all in vain as the food always ended up burning. In the end, she had to admit defeat. 

Hiccup grabbed her wrist. “Join me?” 

Astrid contemplated his words for a few seconds before nodding. She can grab dinner later. She wrapped her husband’s arm around her shoulder and helped him get into the tub. The water wasn’t too warm since they were in the hottest month of Berk, but it wasn’t cold to the point he would start shivering after being submerged for a couple of minutes. 

Hiccup looked over at his wife undress. He had seen her in this state countless times, even before they were married; but it always felt like the first time. He was the only Viking that she allowed to see her like this, with her guard down. Her body wasn’t unscathed. It was filled with scars and burns, proving that this woman was a warrior that has been through so many battles and came out victorious every time. She wouldn’t hesitate to swing an axe to a skull if someone ever looked at her funny. So, this woman allowing him to witness her in her most vulnerable state was an absolute honour to him, that he would never take for granted. Her scars were a part of her and accentuated her beauty and he made sure to always remind her of it. 

“Allow me.” He said as he extended a hand towards her. She knew what he wanted and turned her back to him. He rose, sat on the edge of the tub and pulled the leather band that kept her braid in place off. He slowly undid his wife’s braid, letting her gold strands cascade down to her lower back. He then gathered her hair in his hand and swept it over her shoulder, exposing her freckled neck and scarred back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a loving kiss on the largest scar she had. A scar trailed from her right shoulder to the left side of her hip. She was proud of that scar as it was a reminder of her saving his life from an assassination attempt. During the yearly Thing meeting between multiple tribes, when the dragons and some Viking tribes were still cohabiting together, a spy has been placed within them, trying to poison the Dragon-loving Chiefs. Astrid and Heather caught on pretty quickly and managed to expose the spy in front of all the Chiefs. Being surrounded, no one expected the spy to suddenly lunge himself at Hiccup with his sword. Astrid, being the closest to him and desperate to keep him unharmed, had used her back as a shield. The wound hurt like Hel but it was worth it. She was so scared to have failed him as his then-General, she didn’t care that she put her life on the line to save his. A Chief protects his own, but it’s also the General’s job to protect the people AND the Chief. Hiccup wouldn’t let her leave his sight for weeks after that, eternally grateful and forever scared he was going to lose her that day.

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He told her. His eyes were filled with wonder to this Valkyrie in front of him. She smiled gratefully at him and climbed in the bathtub, sitting opposite of him. 

She took his stump in her hands and started to delicately massage it, coaxing a few moans of relief out of him. Her nimble fingers were definitely a gift from the Gods. She managed to soothe the knots in his leg with great accuracy. All day, he had to focus on the utter chaos happening in the village that he didn’t have the time to focus on himself and his discomfort, ignoring the pains coming from his leg begging him to take the weight off of it. She carefully avoided the small blister forming near the bottom of the stump. 

“Mmmh, this feels so good.” Hiccup sighed with pleasure as he closed his eye, focussing on the sensation.

“You’ve been standing for too long, babe. I know the Midsummer celebration is stressing you out, but you’ve got to start listening to your body when it tells you to rest.” He opened his eyes, looking at her hands doing their wonders underwater. 

“I know, I know. But it’s a bit hard to do that when we keep progressing backward each day. I swear to Odin, every time I look away, someone messes up something, I just can’t do it.” Astrid’s hand rose to swipe Hiccup’s bangs back, revealing his beautiful green eyes. Since the start of the preparations a few weeks ago, he didn’t have the time to let her cut his hair.

“You can’t do it on your own. Remember, you have me. You have your mom, Gobber, Eret and the gang. We’re all here to help you. You just have to accept the help instead of shouldering most of the responsibilities. We’re willing to take some of the load off you.” She said as she grazed her thumb over his dark eye bags. “I can assure you that not only the work will get done much faster, but you’ll be more productive with a rested body and a peaceful mind.” She kissed his forehead. Hiccup wrapped his arms around her, making her sit in his lap. He savoured the rare peaceful moment he had with his beloved wife. She had the gift of shutting all the voices tormenting his mind and the gentle touch to relax his body in the blink of an eye. She was everything to him. He could be the best version of himself when she’s with him and never took her for granted; not since the betrothal gift incident.

“Just don’t forget you’re still human, there’s so much your body can handle before it shuts down.” She added. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I might have been pushing myself pretty hard.” Hiccup replied, raising his head to look at her. There was a warmness to her that he never thought she would ever have; especially directed towards him. He remembered her words of encouragement back on the clifftops, as he was losing hope. I am the person I am today because of you. Over the years, he saw how she started to warm up to him and the rest of the people. She had been trained for years to be this fearless, unemotional warrior. Back then, the fear of losing the people you love was at its peak, so she was quick to learn how to shut her feelings down and just train from dawn till dusk. Today, she was a softer and warmer person; which didn’t mean she was weaker by any means. But with the end of the Dragon War, she has found herself a partner that saw her as an equal. They both found themselves a new purpose in life and didn’t have to fear the threat of a dragon raid any longer, which allowed them to find happiness along the way. They were happy here.

Astrid got off his lap and reached for the soap that was earlier placed at a reachable distance. She looked back at him. “Soak.” And so, he plunged his head underwater before coming back up with his bangs fully covering his eyes. She stifled a laugh as did he. “I haven’t planned to cut your hair today, so I’ll do that next laugardagr, you think you can survive until then?” She started washing his hair with the soap in her hands.

“You made a whole schedule just to help me relax? A schedule? Did I mistakenly marry Fishlegs?” This earned him a pinch on his nipple. “OW! You know they’re sensitive. I did not deserve that!” She laughed as she brought her hands back to massage his scalp. The nipple pinching forgotten, his eyes rolled back into his skull, fully appreciating the head massage. “Ooh yeah, that feels nice.” Astrid brought his bangs back down to cover his eyes and gathered the excess foam and piled it upon his head in the form two horns. She exploded in laughter at the ridiculous sight.  “Wha- Astriiid!“

“You look like Snotlout’s pet yak! Oh Gods- I can’t!” She wheezed. 

Hiccup was not impressed and got rid of the foam and swiped his bangs back, exposing his frown. His small smile betrayed him though. It was rare to see Astrid lose composure and in a burst of full-blown laughter. It made him break his frown and laugh with her. 

“You, young lady, are in reeeally big trouble. Do you have any idea who I am?” 

“Yakkity’s long lost brother?” She joked.

“Okay, that’s it, come here you!” He grabbed her by the waist and started poking her sides, knowing very well she was ticklish there. “I shall not tolerate this type of disrespect on my island.”

She tried to grab his arm, but this time he was prepared and pinned her arms by wrapping an arm around her and continuing tormenting her with the other. How she wished they were fifteen years old again. “N-No- St-Stop!” 

“Then say, ‘My husband is the strongest and most handsome Viking in all of Midgard’. Say it.” 

“Hahaha, N-not on yo-your life!” Having minimal movement of her arms, Astrid tried to reach downwards instead of fighting the death grip he had around her. She pinched the inside of his thigh, so very close to his precious jewels, making him jump. “Astrid! No!” He stopped tickling her but kept his arm around her. 

“I will pinch higher if you don’t let me go, babe.” She tried to catch her breath from all the tickling.

“You’re awful, absolutely awful.” He whined as he let her go. 

“You’re lucky this is your relaxation time.” She said, a small glint in her eyes. 

“Oh yeah, what kind of torment would you inflict on your poor one-legged husband?” He challenged.

“Something that would require you to use your cane for the next day or so.” She fired back; a small, dangerous smile etched on her face. Hiccup’s eyes widened and he gulped. “But we’re both tired and I did promise to take care of my sweet husband, haven’t I? So, behave.” She flicked his exposed forehead. 

“Ow. How did I get myself into this mess?” He rubbed the sore spot.

“You kidnapped me and threw me on top of a tree.” She replied with a straight face.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, you’ve had soap in your hair for long enough, rinse.” She ordered. He dived in again, washing off the soap.  

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked.

“But it’s your time off.” 

“Yeah, but it’s yours too. You worked just as hard. You deserve to be taken care of too.” He replied.

“You worked harder.” He rolled his eyes.

“Astrid, this isn’t a competition. I want to take care of my wife. Will you let me?” He grabbed her hand and slowly spun her around in the narrow tub and made her sit between his legs. 

“You’re always looking for an excuse to touch my hair.” She jokingly said. There was an element of truth though. He loved touching her hair, combing his fingers through her long strands. Since they have gotten married, he insisted on combing and braiding her hair in the morning. There was just something intimate and therapeutic about touching her hair. She was protective over it, never letting anyone but him touch it. The first time she let down her hair for him was during the incident that left her temporarily blind. She was not able to see how much soot covered her precious hair, so she entrusted it in his care. He remembers his heart beating so fast that he thought it was going to burst from his chest. He felt honoured, and has been craving to touch her beautiful golden locks ever since. 

Astrid on the other hand, hated when people touched her hair. It was her pride and joy (after Stormfly and her axe). As a child, every time her mom would braid her hair, she would always pull too hard, leaving her sore. The twins were more chaotic when they were kids. They would get away with anything because kids will be kids. As a prank, they decided it would be funny to set her hair on fire, forcing her to cut it above her shoulders. That day, she saw red and very nearly beat them to death. They were all severely punished for it, but no one has ever attempted to touch her hair ever again. He remembered that day very well, it was probably the first time he saw her cry. That’s when he learned how attached she was to her hair. The way she preened on it every night since they became a couple on the Edge reminded him so much of Stormfly. Her dragon always made sure there was not a single hair out of place after a flight. It amused him how she trusted a dragon more than Vikings to manage her hair. Stormfly had the gentle touch that Astrid craved someone to have. She always wanted her rider to look the best. 

“Well?” Astrid asked as she looked back. Hiccup’s thoughts were cut off. 

“Oh...Uh yeah, my bad.” He started to massage her scalp as she did him. 

“Okay, I’m done. You can rinse.” He said after working on her hair for the past couple of minutes.

She dipped her head underwater and got rid of the soap before emerging again. 

“Thanks.” She turned her head and smiled at him. 

“I should be thanking you; this whole ‘bath’ idea was yours. It felt nice.” He kissed her exposed shoulder as he embraced her.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. We’re not done.” She patted his hand.

“Not done?”

“What, did you really think that was it? Come on, let’s get out before our skin shrivels up like a prune.” She got out of his arms, turned around, and grabbed him. She helped him up and guided him to the chair, passed him a towel, and proceeded to dry themselves before taking his prosthetic and putting it back on his stump. She started to put her clothes on, so Hiccup followed suit until she stopped him.

“Nuh-uh, just wear a towel, I highly doubt you want your clothes to be stained with oil.”

“What?”

“A massage, Hiccup. I’m going to give you a massage. Gods, even a blind man would know how tense you are just by standing near you.” She answered.

“Why are you getting dressed then? Don’t I get to give you one?” 

“Next laugardagr, after I trim that overgrown mop of hair of yours. Gods have mercy on my shears.” 

“S-Shears?! And by the way, my hair isn’t that bad!” Hiccup dramatically exclaimed. Astrid rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen a man with that much hair on their head, I swear if we shave everything off, we’ll have enough to make a scarf. No need for sheep anymore.” 

“First, I’m a yak, now I’m a sheep? Is that how you see me, Astrid? Nothing more than livestock? How you wound me.” He brought a hand up to his heart. Astrid let out a cackle.

“You are such a drama queen. Come on, get up your highness, there’s fresh meat to be tenderized before I chop it off and feed it to the village.” She helped him up and headed towards their bedroom.

“Please Astrid, can you be any more creepy?” It was his turn to roll his eyes. 

They finally reached their room. The shutters were sealed shut, preventing most of the light to penetrate the room. Candles were illuminated, giving off the same soothing atmosphere as downstairs, cutting them off from the agitated outside world. The bed was covered by a large towel, probably to avoid the oil soak into their sheets. Astrid made her husband lie down on his stomach, removed his prosthetic again, and sat on his butt. She started tracing his back muscles with feathery fingers which made him shivers. While Hiccup was still a lean man, he definitely wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old, shy boy that she found herself falling in love with. He quickly gained muscle mass thanks to dragon-riding and her extensive sword fighting lessons. Just like all the other riders, he started to lose some after the dragons’ departure a year ago. He remained, in her eyes, the most beautiful man ever.

 She caressed his back and leaned forward, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, making him sigh lovingly. He was clearly enjoying her pampering and she wasn’t about to stop any time soon. She reached for the small vial that was ready to be used from their bedside table and poured the contents in her hands and rubbed them together to heat it up a bit. Astrid proceeded to rub his shoulders first, trying to undo that visible tension. She added her bodyweight as she tried to loosen those knots that caused his painful backaches. 

“Mmh, yeah that’s the spot.” Hiccup moaned as she rubbed a specific sore area.  She continued her ministrations for a bit and slowly moved onto his lower once she was satisfied with how loose and relaxed his shoulders became. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked while kneading his legs.

“Like a newborn yak.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillows. She sniggered, happy that he’s enjoying this so much.

Hiccup can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. He truly thought he was going to melt into a puddle under her magic hands. He knew he didn’t know when to stop working. His muscles could be aching and his bones could be breaking, but he never stops until someone does or until he collapses. He had big shoes to fill and couldn’t bear to let his village down. Not when his father did a tremendous job at leading. Once Stoick finally admitted to his blindness, he saw so much growth and potential in his son, and Hiccup did his best to uphold what his father saw in him. While Stoick had to lead alone for years, Hiccup couldn’t be any more grateful to have an amazing partner by his side, supporting him. He knew he wouldn’t remain sane had he lost her like his father lost his wife. He was no idiot. He saw how he struggled when his soulmate was believed to be dead and couldn’t possibly see a future without Astrid. She was everything to him and more. The entire village knew that.  They weren’t being led by the Chief and the Chief’s wife. They were Chief and Chieftess. Equals. One couldn’t function without the other. Some would say that they’re too dependent on each other and would lead the tribe to their downfall. But the Berkians knew better. Together, they were stronger than anyone.

“Turn around.” She ordered. And he complied. She sat back on his lap and leaned down to kiss him. He quickly wrapped his arm around her and savoured their kiss. They should do this more often. He missed having some quality time with just her. 

Just as his hands started traveling a bit lower, a large grumbling sound resonated across the room. They separated and looked at each other. The couple started laughing. 

“Well, someone is hungry. When was the last time you ate?” Astrid asked.

“Honestly, I can’t remember.” He sheepishly replied. She sighed. “Go sit in front of the hearth and let your hair dry. I’ll go grab some food from the Great Hall, I’ll be back soon.” She passed him his prosthetic and headed downstairs, leaving their household on the quest for food.

He doesn’t know how long he had been staring at the flames when she came back, a basket in hand. She approached him and sat on the floor beside him, handing him the food. 

“Thank you, Milady.” He smiled at her.

“Sorry about not having any meals prepared at home.” She timidly said, looking down at her bowl of stew. “I tried to cook something from my mom’s recipes but my cooking skills are still pretty subpar. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t perfect.”

He recognized those words. It just wasn’t perfect. That’s why it took them so long to become a couple, to begin with. He knew he was romantic when it comes to being in a relationship. Even before he set his eyes on anyone, he already thought of perfect scenarios with his soulmate. All the gestures and gifts; anything to quench this loneliness he felt as a young boy. He wanted his partner to feel loved. That’s why the medallion incident hit him hard. Since when did he start neglecting Astrid, causing her to feel that exact same loneliness he once felt? He never thought she was a romantic, being a hardcore shieldmaiden most of her life. But he learned that she also longed for love, she was just better at hiding it. At that time, he was still self-conscious. He has never heard her telling him that she loved him, but hearing her share her insecurities, he realized that she has. So many times, through a variation of loving gestures that she reserved for him and only him. He felt guilty for being so blind, which is why he made up for it. She deserved the best. She deserved perfect.

“Hey.” He scooted closer to her, their shoulders bumping. “This seems pretty perfect to me.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “You have no idea how eternally grateful I am to have you. This whole thing you’ve prepared for me is just perfect. I love it. I love you. So much. Whether you managed to cook an intricate meal or just brought food back from the Great Hall wouldn’t have changed anything. You did this for me, and it made me so happy. And I get to spend some time with you. I couldn’t ask for more, Astrid. Thank you.”  He tenderly kissed her lips. 

“I’m glad.” She paused. “And relieved.” She confessed, a smile on her lips.

They happily ate in silence, occasionally striking a conversation or just randomly stole a kiss from each other; just enjoying each other’s presence. 

Their empty bowls were cast aside as they cuddled in front of the fire; savouring this rare moment of peace and quiet. Hiccup ran his fingers through her now dry hair.

“Will you let me braid your hair?” She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding and turning her back to him. He delicately combed through her silky golden tresses with his fingers, undoing the small knots and separated her hair into three parts. He expertly twisted the locks in a loose braid. Usually, Astrid wouldn’t braid her hair when going to bed as it provided a thin layer of heat for her neck. Winter in New Berk was just as merciless as Old Berk, but right now, they were approaching the hottest days of the year. While the air was still cool when evening came, she didn’t need that much coverage as the fire heated the room to a perfect temperature. 

Astrid passed the leather band that was hanging on her wrist to her husband as he finished tending her hair. He attached it and swept her hair over her shoulder. Placing a light peck on the nape. She shivered at the contact and fell back, trusting Hiccup to catch her, which he did. He pressed his lips on her now accessible forehead. She laid in his arms for a while, just relishing the feeling of having his arms around her and the small, tickling kisses all across her face. 

“Is this what you’ve been up to the whole time when you said you wanted to go home?” He asked.

“The failed cooking took most of my time.” She lamented.

“Did you have time to rest?” Astrid looked away. She knew she needed extra time to do the cooking, but she didn’t expect to fail that hard. In the end, it took much more time than she expected. Not that she felt like she needed a break, her husband needed it more than she did. But she was hoping to have more quality time with him. Unfortunately, after the fourth try, she decided to throw the towel. 

“I’ll rest when you do.” Just as she said that the blonde Viking let out a yawn. 

“Well, someone is getting tired.” Hiccup teased. 

“I’ve been tired since our beloved Goddess Sol decided to show off all her glory even more so than usual.” Hiccup fought back a yawn that didn’t go unnoticed by his wife. “Seems like I’m not the only one that’s tired. Come on babe, let’s get you to bed.” She freed herself from his embrace and got up, lending a hand to help her husband up too. They headed upstairs, leaving the dirty dishes for tomorrow. 

Once in their bedroom again, they undressed and put on their thin nightwear, hoping to finally get a comfortable night of sleep. They got in bed and Hiccup spooned her, letting her get comfortable in his arms. They sighed in content.

“Astrid?” He hesitantly called out, hoping she didn’t already fall asleep. 

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me”

“I know, but you always seem to know what I need before I even do. So, I want to thank you. I really appreciate it. I love you, Milady.” He kissed the back of her head.

She squeezed his hand that was resting around her waist. “I love you too.” She sleepily answered.

He tightened his arms around her as he let sleep consume him.

Gods, how he loved that woman.

oOo

So this one-shot was written while I was writing another Hiccstrid story. I just needed a break since I was having a writer's block and I desperately needed some heartwarming fluff because the other one is heavy, at least for me it is. This one-shot could possibly have a potential smut scene one day, I just have no idea how to write those yet.

The other story will be posted soon, depending on how inspired I am. It's either going to be a long one-shot or a short chaptered fiction. To this day, I have written around 11K words, and it could possibly reach 20K. All I'm going to reveal for now is that Astrid is going to have a bad time. Hopefully you guys will be interested.

Also, would anyone be interested in a separate one-shot on how Astrid got that scar? I don't know why, I love Astrid so much that I need to read/write Astrid!Whump fics.

[caermis]

❝Love❞ Ch. 1

❦BNHA! Various X Black!Reader ❦Characters:  ⇻Izuku Midoriya ⇻Mirio Togata ❦Warnings: None ❦Plot: “Y/N L/N. Thank you for your help.” -H.E.R.O Ward Association, Block 15. A young 20-year-old, that has been chosen as the right choice to raise 10 Installments. That are Children? ❦Notes: ⇻This does not involve Pedophilia, Hebephilia, or Ephebophilia(Nothing to do with a sexual attraction towards literal children) -G/BsF/N = Best Friend’s name

❝Ch.1❞  ❝Ch.2❞

Chapter One

A New Mother's Dismay

Midoriya & Togata

I am Y/N L/N

Her E/C eyes silently watched the striped ball roll to her feet, before trailing up the group of kids in front of her. They were all faceless, and their voice held no real warmth or joy, but they screamed the 10-year-old's name. Over and Over and Over. Asking her to play or pass the ball to them. Slowly picking up the ball, taking slow steps before speeding up excitedly. They cheered her name, waiting for her. Before she tripped over her own feet. Tumbling to the ground, the ball rolled back to the other kids. Feeling tears prick her eyes, before slowly sitting up. Only this time, the kids frowned at her, and picked the ball up, and walked away.

I am Y/N L/N

I stared at the red F- on my test; I gripped my skirt, trying to stop the tears at my failure. The faceless high school students chuckled and turned from me like I wasn't even worth bullying. Like I didn't exist. I was alone. I am alone. Repeating those words, I looked into the mirror and watched my face morph into the kind face of my mother. I would never be like her.

I am Y/N L/N

My feet dragged against the pavement, I casually walked home. I sighed. I was currently a university student, who was after their Master's degree in literature. Having published a book, when I was 18, lucky it allowed me to get a scholarship and buy a house, still didn't mean I wouldn't have to get a thankless job.

Luckily working at the University Cafe wasn't extremely bad. Tiredly lifting my arm, iLuckily,t was already 9 pm, and the sun had set a few hours ago, but the streets were still lively, with other College students going out on dates. Seeing my apartment building in the distance, I let out a sigh and took out the gate key. Inputting my pin code, I opened the metal gate and slipped inside and let out a yawn. Staggering up the steps, I walked down the hall, just wanted to get inside and change into something comfortable, until I noticed a package in front of my door.

Walking up to the brown cardboard box, my name written decoratively in sharpie. Lifting the box, I quickly unlocked my front door and slipped inside. Kicking my shoes off and locking the door, I walked into the living room and placed the box on the coffee table. Using my keys, I ripped through the tape and began to open the box. A white card rested on top of a black box, my fingers grabbing the card and reading over it.

A gift.

-H.E.R.O Ward Association. Block 15

"What..." Placing the card aside, I pulled out the large black box and took off its plastic wrapping, my fingers running along the metal of it, before opening it. I yanked my hands away, staring wide-eyed at the money inside. I slapped my hands over my mouth and stared at it, before grabbing the note on top and reading it. 

Y/N L/N,

Congratulations! You have been chosen as the direct Caretaker of Block 15: U.A-L.O.V. This is part of your payment, once receiving an installment, which is 200'000 per Installment. This amount has been doubled as of today, due to [REDACTED] circumstances. Expect the arrival between this week or next week.

Thank you,

-H.E.R.O Ward Association. Block 15

I bite my bottom lip, closing the box. So it wasn't a mistake. Grabbing my computer, I started to look at the H.E.R.O Ward Association. Finding absolutely nothing or anything I did find was restricted. I stared back at the box, thinking of ways to get rid of it or return it. I didn't sign up for this, but something told me I couldn't get out of this predicament. 

“John! A Number 15! For Mary!” You called out before turning back to the woman behind the counter. “That’ll take just a minute.” Mary smiled and turned from the counter, going back with her friends. Seeing that was the last person, I let out a sigh. Just happy that the lunch rush was over. 

Rocking on my heels, I glanced over the cafe, before locking eyes with a tall boy with blonde hair. Dread immediately filled my stomach as he smiled brightly and proudly walked towards the register, making exaggerated movements with his arms.  

I watched him with a raised eyebrow as he came closer, just spotting a short boy with green hair stumble after him. Upon reaching the counter, he smiled. “Are you L/N-san?” I nodded and watched his smile get bigger and he pulled out a white card and passed it to me. 

Y/N L/N, The first installment. 1/10

Name: Mirio Togata. Age: 9 Block 15: Permeation

Looking from the note back to Miro then looking away from the blonde boy and yelling into the back. “I’m heading out early! It’s an emergency!” Turning back to Mirio, he stared at me with happy blue eyes. “You're very pretty L/N-san.” Giving a half-assed smile, you slipped off your apron and moved around the counter, just spotting the green-haired boy as he hid behind Mirio. “Oh! This is Izuku. He’s 7 and shy. Say hi and give L/N-san your card.” Miro ushered Izuku forward, making him almost trip but catch himself and fumble with his fingers, and pull out a card, quickly pass it to me and hide behind Mirio. 

Y/N L/N, The first installment. 1/10

Name: Izuku Midoriya. Age: 7 Block 15: One for All

Not having time to go over the details, crouched down and stared at them. Offering your hand. “Let’s go get something to eat.” Mirio excitedly grabbed my hand, while Izuku slowly grabbed mine. Standing up, I walked with the two boys, heading towards the pizza parlor, mentally thankful that I left my backpack at home, and that I kept my wallet, phone, and keys on you. 

Finding a table in the back, I left them here to get a medium-sized pepperoni, half cheese pizza. Paying for the meal, I went back to the table, waiting for my name to be called. “Thank you, L/N-san,” Izuku whispered quietly as he sat beside him, fiddling with his hands.

“Y/N. Call me Y/N.” You smiled and clutched your hands together, having literally no idea what to do. The two seemed respectable enough not to cause trouble. “Y/N. I like your name a lot. Are you from America, cause…” He trailed off, subconsciously rubbing his skin, his eyes on mine. 

“Cause you look different.” Izuku grabbed my hand, showing the difference of skin tone, “but not a bad different. A good different.” The green-haired boy quickly added on. Mirio nodded, smiling at me. Feeling my heart clench, I ran my hand through Izuku’s hair and reached across the table and padded Mirio’s head. “Thank you.”

“A half Pepperoni and half Cheese for Y/N!” Pulling for the two boys, I told them to wait for me as I went up and grabbed the pizza. “Y/N! You had kids! When!” One of my friends, G/BsF/N grabbed my arm and stared at me. I rapidly shook my head and crossed my arms. “Hell no! Listen, I’ll explain later!” Grabbing the table, you headed back to the two boys. 

“I've never eaten pizza!” Mirio excitedly took a bite of his slice, while I quickly slid a plate, handing  Izuku a smaller slice. Watching the two eat, I pulled out my phone, going through different apps. 

“Y/N?” Looking at Mirio, watching him sink lower into his seat. He stared at me with wide eyes, seeming to be panicking. Permeation. I quickly stood up and moved to his side. Grabbing his shoulder. Not exactly sure what to do, I made him look at me. “Y/N, Im...Im sorry-”

“Hey. It’s alright. Just breathe. I'm here ok.” I spoke softly, slowly patting his head. Watching him slowly reappear from his seat, his hands gripped my shirt. Staring at him, whatever I just got myself into, I couldn't back out of.

“Miri... I'm here for you ok. It was an accident. Let’s just go home alright. We can buy clothes and things tomorrow.” I slowly pulled away. Packing up the rest of the pizza before leaving. 

Upon arriving at my apartment, I found a yellow and blue backpack in front of my door. “I'm assuming those belong to you two?” Mirio sheepishly smiled, as I walked with a sleeping Izuku on my back. “Sorry. We thought you'd be home, but you weren't so we went out to find you.”

“How do you know where I work?” 

“The man who brought us here told us.” I unlocked the door, allowing him inside first. Watching Mirio quickly slip off his shoes and dart deeper into the house, excitedly looking around. Walking inside, I kicked the door closed and took off my shoes, lacing Izuku on the couch, and using my coat as a blanket. Placing the box of pizza on the counter.

“Mirio?” Walking down the hall heading to the spare bedroom, Mirio stared out the window into the street. “Y/N, is this me and Izuku’s bedroom?” I slowly nodded, staring at the makeshift bed, until I actually bought a bed. 

“I thought you both could help me buy a bed. Seeing as money isn't an issue.” Mirio nodded excitedly and rushed out of the room, going to explore the apartment. Which had only three bedrooms and two full bathrooms, so they had enough to explore. 

After a few minutes of exploring on Mirio’s part, and me on the computer, looking at certain bed frames, Izuku cuddled up to my side. 

“Y/N! Do you think we can go to school!” Mirio slid into the living room, a red sheet around his neck like a cape. He was playing superheroes with himself, saving invisible citizens and villains, going by Lemillion. “Well, legally you'll have to.” Mirio cheered and disappeared down the hall. 

“Do I have to go to school too?” Izuku tiredly rubbed his eyes and looked up at me. I nodded and watched him smile. “Izuku come play Heroes with me!” Izuku looked fully awake and climbed down, darting towards the sound of Mirio’s voice. 

Listening to their cheering and entrances introducing themselves, sometimes bickering on how to save someone. My eyes focused on the best schools close to the apartment, before settling on Boku No Hero Academia K-12 School. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!” Izuku in a white cape, naming himself to be All Might, and Mirio who had changed his red cape to a black one, changing into a villain. Ran into the living room, staring at me. “Play Heroes and Villains with us! You can be the person I save.” 

“But I wanna save Y/N too.”

“But we need a Villain and Villains can't save people.” Izuku and Mirio went back and forth before I stopped them. “You can take turns.” The two nodded, and we went on to play. 

“Give me the secret formula!”

“Ah, save me!” Struggling in your metal restraints (horribly tied yarn) you stared at Villain Lemillion with fearful eyes, as you fell closer to the lava(floor). “That’s fine. This lava can read your mind, so I'll win either way! Mwahaha!” 

“Someone help me! I need a hero please.” Falling closer to the lava until the door opened and there appeared the hero All Might. “I am here to save you Y/N-oops I mean-I am here to save you, citizen!” He chucked a pillow at Villain Lemillion making him fall back. “No, my plans!” Watching him fall into the lava, dying with his tongue out and making a sizzling sound. 

“Are you alright!?” All Might jumped onto the platform, undoing my restraints and making sure I was alright. “Thank you! You saved me! You're my hero.” All Might look embarrassed and smiled.

“Still sizzling over here.” 

We looked over the edge of the platform(my bed) and down at Villain Lemillion, who was somehow still alive. “How are you alive!? I killed you!” 

“You're a hero. Heroes don't kill people!”

“Y/N, do heroes kill people?” Mirio and Izuku looked at me, I thought for a second. “I guess if they really need to but never their main villain.” 

“Main villain?” Mirio climbed onto the bed and stared at me. “Like the person, they go up against. “Like Batman and the Joker. Their main rivals, but you can always have more than one rival.”

“Like! Like! Um...when All Might fought All for One so they're main rivals!”

“Oh! You're so smart!” Izuku's eyes lit up as the two talked. Maybe All Might was a Hero, I haven't heard of. You brushed it off and checked the time, 8:23 PM, and the boys ate around 5 or 6, so dinner was in order. “We’ll eat dinner, then you both can take a bath. We’re going to check out your schools tomorrow.” The two cheered and climbed down, rushing towards the kitchen. Following them, deciding to settle on Pizza, which they basically inhaled and ready for a bath.

While they took a bath together, I chose their PJs, realizing that Mirio had zero sense for what was for bed and what was not. After a few minutes of slashing and hero talk, they both came out squeaky clean, saying that heroes needed to be clean. Tucking them into bed, they both started asking me for a bedtime story.

“Uh, I don't know any.”

“Make one up!”

“N/N, please!” Izuku called me by my nickname, staring at me with Puppy dog eyes. Sighing, I cleared my throat and made myself comfortable. “Once upon a time, there was a boy. A boy not many liked cause he was different, though this boy had a friend. A friend that was really mean to him and put that boy down.”

“If they were friends. Why was his friend mean to him?” Mirio spoke quietly, staring with half-lidded eyes. Izuku slowly nodded, “Shouldn't friends be nice to each other?”

“Until that boy met a hero, and that hero gave that boy his power, after some convincing. So the boy was given the old Heroes power, a dangerous power that would hurt the boy, but the old Hero didn't tell the boy that. So the boy could tell no one. Though this boy didn’t listen and told his friends, who didn't believe him. We soon learn his friend is jealous, he thinks the boy looks down on him. Jealousy is a nasty thing.”

“That doesn't sound like a hero.” Mirio slowly dozed up, while Izuku softly muttered. Slowly patting his head, I nodded.

“I guess it doesn't.”

[unlikelyempathpruneauthor]

A matter of Time

A/n: hey guys long time no see! I made this in many different verisons but here it is. Hope you enjoy! Feed back is appreciated

Warnings: none really probably bad statistics and mixed povs’ and bad spelling.😂 sorry if this sucks.

Summary: being new to the BAU and being elle’s sister and clicking with a certain doctor.

You were with your sister on your way to your first day of work. Joining that bau was one of the things you always wanted to do once you got all your doctorates, the academy was happy with your scores, but physical was one of the ones that needed the most. You were smart but you also had to have the physical movements in as well and being able to shoot and handle psychopaths. Your counselor though gave you a well written letter and plus your boss’s sister allowed you to work with them as long as you were able to pass your qualifications test, your sister also happen to know someone in particular who didn't pass his qualifications as well and thought you two would instantly click.

As you walked into the office eyes were all over you and elle. “Well well well, look at his lady,” Morgan said as Elle stopped him. “Don't even think about it morgan.” she said as his eyebrows rose. “What I just wanna say hi.” he said as she moved over and walked over to her desk. “You must be morgan?” you said as he nodded. “Yes I am and you must be?” he asked, waiting for you to say your name. “y/n, y/n greenaway.” you said as morgan looked at you and back at elle. “wait your elle’s sister?” he said as you nodded. “Yeah I am.” you said as your eyes wandered. “Wait, you're working here? You're the new member?” he asked as you nodded.  “So you specialize in..?” he asked as you answered quickly. “In sexual offense crimes, like elle, and i have doctorates in mathematics, chemistry-” you said as he finished your sentence, “engineering, and you specialize in statistics and geographical profiling...am i right?” he said as you nodded “yeah, how did you know that?” you asked as he chuckled. “Because we have an agent here who does the same things you do, but he's a guy.” he said. “How many words can you read in a minute?” he asked as your sister butted in.  “Trust me, you don't want to know that.” she jokingly said as a pen came up to you. You knew each other, she would come over to your house and you would hang out. “y/n! Hey, hotch is in his office waitting for you.” she said as you hugged and you nodded walking over to hotch’s office.

“Hey hotch.” you said as he grinned at you. When he saw your name in the files he knew you would be a good mix into this team, even though it meant they would be having two Spencers but he was happy to have all the help they could get. Two of Spencer would mean getting things done a lot faster, even though it got done faster than normal.

Elle and hotch both knew you and Spencer would work well together; it was only a matter of minutes till you met. As you sat in your desk you were welcomed by the many agents that worked there. As you placed the little things you brought from home you were looking at some old cases Elle worked on. You would do this when she was away. Even though you weren't  a part of the team, there were many times you would call elle and tell her about something that would pop in your head. Even though you didn't work there legally, but it made Elle look like a rockstar. You saw jj heading towards you guys and you were ready for your first case, but you knew you were gonna have to take baby steps since you were new. You all walked over to the conference room and sat there to debrief. Hotch, Prentiss, Rossi and Spencer were already there. You didn't know who the other two people were, you knew most of the team name but then again you were new, and as if elle read your mind she came close to your ear.

“Younger guy is spencer...or i mean dr. spencer reid. And the lady there is Emily prentiss.” she said as you nodded. So thats who Morgan was talking about earlier. He was young like you which meant that you two were different versions of one another.

Jj walked up to the board and started talking about a case. A guy was murdering women in the middle of the streets with no trace of evidence besides notes that were given to the local police department. “All the women look alike, could be personal, but not in the way he knows them. More like whoever looks like these women did something to him that made him rage into killing because to him they were the same woman. And since the women were in their mid 30’s could be an ex wife, or exgirlfriend.” you said as everyone looked at you, spencer looked at your first; he found you astonishing “Sorry.” you said as the hotch shook his head. “It's fine, good point actually,” he said as you nodded. Going back to Spencer, he didn't even know you were there. He was very surprised with how fast you read through the file. Giving him a hint you were able to read lots of words per minute..just like him.

“But what exactly did this woman do, to get him into a rage of slitting other women’s throats?” Morgan asked as Spencer spoke up. “Most likely a divorce or rejecting marriage.” he said as you looked more into the file. “Could be either one, the percentage of first marriages that end in divorce is 50% , and depending on what ring it is when proposing the rejection is much higher.” you said as you got those facts from the top of your head.

“Okay, let's talk more on the plane, Texas is a long flight, see you all in 30.” hotch said as you all got up and you headed to your desk getting your go-bag and your files. You also brought your books to read on the jet. As you were all on your way to the jet you were walking behind everyone and Spencer thought it could be a good moment to greet on another.

“Hey, im..uh dr. Spencer reid. Or spencer you don't have to call me dr.” he said as you looked over to him and smiled. “Hi, im y/n greenaway. I’m dr. As well.” you said as his eyebrows rose. You didn’t know if it was the dr or your last name that shocked him, It didn't surprise you when people made that face here in the bureau. Your sister was a legend and so was your father.

“Your elle’s sister right?” he asked as elle walked over. “Yes she is so you better not mess with her.” she said as you laughed and she sat down with morgan and you looked around on where to sit, spencer was doing the same. “Do you uh, want to sit together? I mean you don't have to but, we could get to uh, know each other.” he said as you nodded, you were happy that you were getting along with someone who's like you that thought the same things. Being you was hard to make friends. You two talked about many things that you were interested in. He told a little about himself and you did as well.

As you landed you and Spencer were told to look through some files that could get you started on your geographical profile. You two were sitting there just looking through and drinking your coffee, JJ, Prentiss and Rossi were talking to the chief and came over to you guys.

“These are Dr's Spencer Reid and y/n greenaway. They are helping us with the geographical profile. One of the best we know.” JJ said as I smiled and me and Spencer were still looking through.  “How old are you guys? Seems too young to be doctors'' he said as Spencer and I looked at one another. On the jet spencer told you this type of situation would happen almost every time.

“Well we're not those types of doctors, we don't have a medical background, it's more psychological and behavioral,'' Spencer said as the chief was slightly still confused and you noticed so you explained more. “We look at why this man is here to target these women, what makes them want to target the women here. It could be that he has a family of some sort here and he can't really go anywhere, so that tells us he blends in. meaning people talk to him on a daily basis, but they don't notice anything strange because he blends in.” you said as the chief nodded understanding more and talking to rossi.

“Where did you find these guys?” he asked as Rossi just chuckled. “Well it's interesting how, but between you and me they were left at the doorsteps of the fbi. These guys are the best to find your guy.” he said as he nodded leaving him satisfied.

As you two were looking even more closer Spencer brought up the thought you made to the chief. “I think you're right about the unsub blending in, how else could he hide his cover? He has to live here, maybe he lost custody of his kids and that could be a possible stressor” he said as you nodded.

“Should i call garcia and let her do her magic?” you asked as he nodded and you called her going to get some coffee. “How do you like your coffee?” you asked as he looked up. “Just make sure it has enough sugar.” he said as you nodded, calling garcia.

“Hello my wonderful daughter, how may i lead you into the world?” she said as you laughed.

“Hello mother, i was wondering if you could search for men in their mid 30-40’s who recently went through some sort of rejections, divorce, lost a custody battle, and possibly losing their job. Someone who blends in, could be a person who helps a lot here.” you said as she did her typing. “Okay with the information you gave it should give me short list, but i cannot promise anything. Mother goose will call you soon.” she said as you giggled. As you walked back with the coffee and handed it to spencer as he looked up and smiled as a thank you. “So garcia is doing her magic, so she should call us any minute.” you said as he nodded and took a sip of his coffee. He just sat there in shock, you got the perfect amount. You were probably one of the fewer people who did get is order right. Even though it was just coffee and sugar. You noticed his shock as he kept drinking his coffee. “What? Does it taste bad?” you asked as he shook his head. “No, it's quite the opposite actually. It tastes perfect. How'd you know it was the right amount.” he said as you giggled. “Lets just say it was an educated guess.” you said as he chuckled looking back and waiting for your team. His brain was going crazy. You were perfect to him. You’re smart, outgoing, and the one that understood him the most even though you just met. He sat there with a smile as those thoughts ran through his head.

When the team arrived they were ready to give everyone the profile you and Spencer made while they mixed it in with theirs. Just then everyone in the room was getting a call that the man had killed again. Hotch answered and everyone headed out, besides a couple of the members.

As you sat there not being able to do anything garcia called you. You thanked the lords and hoped she found something. “Hey gracia you got something for me?” you said as the clicks on her keyboard were continuing. “As a matter of fact I do. This guy Marcus Gray, recently lost a custody battle to his wife, that looks exactly like the victims, and he recently lost his job, but he got another one and i was told by his schedule that he has not clocked in for over two hours, but then before i called you it shows that he just went into work 10 minutes after the last kill.” she said as your eyes widened. “Do you have addressed to both his house and his job?” you asked as she smirked. “Baby, I already sent them to you.” she said as you sighed. “Thank you mom.” you said as she giggled as you hung up.

“Okay we need hotch and everyone else on here.” you said as rossi made the call. “So lovely garcia found a guy who meets the profile, Marcus gray, who just lost a custody battle and was filed for divorce with his wife that looks like the victims and is considered to be very helpful and local. We have the addresses to his work and home.” you said as everyone was quite surprised at your work.

“Okay good, me, prentiss,elle and morgan, will go to his work, you spencer, and rossi, go to his house. Nice job y/n.” he said as you nodded getting ready.

You were all set up besides not having a gun but you saw you weren't the only one.

“You don't have a gun?” you asked Spencer as he scoffed. “Yeah i don't, i haven't really passed my qualifications test. You neither huh?” he said as you nodded. “Yeah I'm not so good physically,” you said as Rossi spoke up. “Maybe you two could study for it.” he said as you two scoffed. “I don't need to study i've got it, i just can't get my shots right.” you said as Spencer nodded. “Same here, considering i have a doctorate in math, i don't know my angles very well.” he said as you laughed. “Wait, that was a joke?” Rossi asked as you playfully rolled your eyes. “Oh rossi, you need to learn.” you said as you arrived at the unsubs house and checked the inside of it.

No one was home as suspected, as you looked around you saw many pictures of his kids but none of the exwife. You looked around his bedroom and looked through the drawers, one was locked but you got into the lock with a bobby pin. “Did you learn that in the academy?” spencer asked as you scoffed. “No i learned it from elle.” You said as he scrunched his nose, thinking of how elle could’ve possibly taught you that. And as you could read his mind you answered his question. “It’s a long story.” you said as he nodded with a smile. As you looked through the drawer, you saw many pictures of the wife marked up with many words.

“Rossi! Pictures of the wife are in here.” you said as he came into the room and looked though. “And well well well, a lovely picture of her and her girlfriend.” you chimed as held the picture.

“So he’s mad at his exwife for being gay? So religious reason, but also because of the custody battle.'' Spencer said as you nodded. “It has to be. Are the rest of the team at the work address?” you asked as Rossi nodded. “Yes they have him trapped, but he has a lady with him and a weapon.” he said as you nodded “how far away is it from here?” you asked as he checked his phone. “5 minutes away. Why?” he asked as you had a plan. “Get a team to look around in here and take me to where the guy is.” you said as rossi made the call and you were on your way over. “What's your plan?” spencer asked.

“Well i'm gonna try to get the guy to let her go.” you said as you got there and you saw he had his ex wife's girlfriend. Hotch saw you and you walked over to him telling him your plan. You walked to the usub and showed him you didn't have a gun. “Hey marcus. You gotta let her go.” you said as he shook his head. “No she ruined my family. She has to die.” he said as he pulled the knife out to me. “Marcus you're better than this. She didn't ruin your family. You will be the one doing that if you don't let her go. Think about your kids. Do you really want them thinking their dad could kill them in a matter of seconds? I know your kids mean a lot to you, you're a good dad. I know a good dad, and you are a good one.” you said as he lowered the knife down. “You really think i'm a good dad.” he said as you nodded. “You probably are. And you can continue to be a good dad if you let her go.” you said as he gave you the knife and let go of the lady. You threw the gun away and pulled the lady and motioned the team to go in.

You got the girlfriend back to her family and walked next to spencer. “How'd you know how to stop him?” he asked as you looked over at him. “I knew his kids were a weakness, all the pictures he has of his kids, to him they are everything to him since he lost his wife to someone else. He knew he could be the best to them. i knew he would let her go if i mentioned how good of a dad he would be.” you said as you were happy to have everyone alive.

On the jet you were all happy with what happend. Thanks to you everyone was alive and the kids were able to see their father in visits.

“Good job today mini greenaway.” morgan said as you high fived him. “Thanks.” you said as you read your book. You sat alone as Spencer was sitting with Elle, Prentiss and jj. “Come on spencer, go talk to her, ask her out or something.” jj said as his gaze was cut off. “What?” he said as elle looked at him. “we see the way you look at her.” prentiss said as elle chimed in. “Spencer, go after her. I owe you one.” she said as he scrunched his nose in confusion. “You saved my life remember? Let me save yours.” she said as he smiled heading over to you and talking to you some more. Maybe even getting to tell him your story from before.

Morgan sat with them as he got his wallet out. There was a bet on you two. Seeing how long it took for you two to talk and get to know each other and elle won. It was literally a no brainer, but then again Morgan would say it was unfair since you were her sister but he paid up.

She knew you two were gonna get along and maybe even get together but then again it was only a matter of time.