#it's funny how i keep mentioning that au isn't it?

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

not really that important, but i was able to find a favorite song that i sort of lost for a little while and now the actual story of the bio portal au has a name

yay :]

[journey-to-the-attic]

Okay, now I'm curious about how IK's dad would fare in the past Devildom. Specifically, IK's dad and baby IK.

oh god that poor man. he was already so incredibly stressed out by his first appearance in the devildom, now he finds out he's in the fucking past and no one here knows him and he just has to cope with that, all while trying to protect his tiny daughter from all the evil things around here??? he's in tears already

he spends his first two weeks in the past just looking like a kicked puppy at all times. he still does his job of managing the brothers with surprising efficiency, but he looks like a physical embodiment of the 🥺 emoji the entire time

little ik is having a Time of it. zhao doesn't exactly know how to communicate to a toddler who still can't count past fifty that they went back in time, much less that the familiar demons around her aren't, in fact, the uncles she likes so much even if they look identical

i imagine he just tries to keep ik with him at all times, but every now and then she manages to wander off and thoroughly confuses the demons with how friendly she is. how is this tiny child more confident than her father

[ckret2]

So a while ago some friends were talking about fans who claim the Same Coin theory is canon. And I made the mistake of saying:

Do you know who also has tons in common with Bill? Mabel. Yet nobody claims Bill reincarnated as Mabel. …wait now I want a "same coin but it's Mabel" AU. Funniest Bill reincarnation option. The all-seeing arsonist is making macaroni glitter art. The omnipotent tyrant is crying because a unicorn called her a bad person.

And then I overthought it for two months.

So—AU where after death, Bill's soul shoots 13 years into the past and reincarnates as Mabel. I'll call it ✨ Sparkly Coin AU ✨

Don't leave yet. Lemme show you why it works. Behold the eerie amount of parallels in their personalities, dialogue, behavior, mannerisms, tastes...

I could have kept going but my attention span ran out. All right, we all on board now? Convinced we could segue from one personality into the other? Great. Now here's why you should be interested: the juicy post-Weirdmageddon angst potential.

As long as a small fringe of the fandom still thinks Weirdmageddon is Mabel's fault, why not amp that up x100 and have some fun with it?

Is everyone sold now? Great. Let's get into the details. I've got 8 more pieces of art under the read more.

So the AU starts the instant Bill dies. Thanks to invoking his deal with the Axolotl—one way to absolve his crime, a different form, a different time—the Axolotl gives him a new shape and shoots him thirteen years into the past. Apparently, the Axolotl thought it would be very funny to stick Bill in the family that defeated him.

Which probably made for a jarring transition.

(It's fine, she's like 10 minutes old, she probably can't even tell who she's looking at. Not being able to tell who she was looking at is what got her into this situation ayyyy)

When Dipper & Mabel come back from Gravity Falls complaining about this triangular jerk Bill, their parents mention that Dipper's name was nearly Bill. See, after they knew they were going to have a boy, one night their mom dreamed about a visitor—some kind of magic pink salamander??—calling her child "BILL." Then at the next sonogram they found out they were having twins, the girl must've been hidden at a weird angle the first time, and they wanted matching names, so they thought, Bill and Bell. But they didn't really like Bell; but eventually they stumbled on Mabel, so to keep the names matching they switched from Bill to Mason. Isn't that the darnedest thing?

(Of course, Mabel and Dipper assume Bill harassed their parents to try to trick them into naming a kid after him. To be a jerk.)

When Bill meets Mabel, he's unaware that she's his future self—Bill's notably bad at doing things like, say, double-checking to see whether he's going to die anytime soon—but like... he can tell something's up.

Naturally, before visiting Gravity Falls, there were echoes of who Mabel used to be—but nothing anyone would be able to identify without context. All her Bill-ish quirks either smoothed out with time (see: how between second grade and fourth grade Mabel went from being the "freak" to the popular girl in class), or else they were accepted by her family as Mabel-ish quirks.

After they meet (and kill) Bill, they have the context to understand some of Mabel's behaviors... and unfortunately, some of Mabel's latent Bill-ness starts surfacing after she's been directly exposed to her prior incarnation.

The part of the Pines family familiar with Bill thinks the worst case scenario is that maybe Bill's survived and is slowly possessing Mabel; but far more likely, they think this is just some weird way of trying to subconsciously process last summer. Mabel doesn't think she's being weird, you guys are being weird, stop giving her weird looks. They get attacked by one triangle and now she can't wear yellow or pick up macrame as a hobby??

(It's not all red flags and uncomfortable triangle imagery, though. When Stan asks her what she'd like as a gift for some important event, she shyly admits that she thinks she's starting to outgrow her plastic gem jewelry and maybe she's old enough to get her first piece of real gold jewelry, if that's not too expensive? And Stan's never been so proud of her. Thirteen years old and already thinking about buying gold!)

But of course, the real fun starts when Mabel finds out.

That's the face of a girl who's just discovered that she tortured her great uncle. Now imagine running into the brother she possessed.

But I've already spent a million words and thirteen images on this post. If enough folks are interested in the AU maybe I'll expand on it later. Let me know what y'all think.

[okiedokrie]

Dress

Summary: Watching your best friend get hot was a struggle, him not fucking you was harder.

Characters/Pairing: Best Friend!Lee Chan (Dino) x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, porn without plot there is some if you squint

AU/Trope Info: Best Friends to Fucking, College AU

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Jealousy, some threats of body harm to self and to others mentioned, smut warnings under the cut

A/N: tagging @bitchlessdino and @the-boy-meets-evil as the main enablers of chan porn, thank you to @wonuvs for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, marking, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

Silence. Patience, pining, and anticipation. You think you might be going insane with how hard you're holding back from exploding in his face. You watch your best friend, Chan, talk to a girl, who in your opinion is too into whatever he's saying.

Like, okay, he's funny. But he's not squeeze his arm and throw your head back funny.

You're convinced if you stare hard enough you'll be able to burn a hole through the skull of this- objectively pretty- girl. Yeah, you can't get too jealous because she's gorgeous and you would've probably hated Chan if he fumbled her.

Still, that doesn't quench the burning hot jealousy you feel. The fire burning in your stomach being the catalyst for the events that followed that party. The unmistakable, ugly, green head of pure jealousy.

Chan, with his stupidly sculpted face that you've watched mature over the years, his perfect long black hair, his muscles pressing against his shirt, leather jacket, sittable nose-

You just think it's unfair how hot Chan has gotten and he still hasn't thought of fucking you. This isn't fair at all.

Just as you were about to successfully finish off the poor girl in various different ways, Chan finally noticed you stewing in your own envy; hands almost shaking from how hard you were holding back from him.

Chan excuses himself from the girl, much to your relief, to finally join your side again.

“Hey babe, you holding good here?” He says, with that signature, annoyingly charming, dopey smile of his.

“Chan, not gonna lie, I'm gonna fucking kill myself if you don't fuck me right now.” 

If Chan was surprised at your sudden horny outburst, he didn't show it. Ever the giver he is, he gives you one last dopey grin before leaning in to catch your lips in a searing kiss.

The force of the kiss caused you to drop the cup you were nursing, the warm beer spilling and soaking into the carpet, but you didn’t care—that was going to be Soonyoung's problem.

Your hands snake up from his firm chest tothe back of his neck, using it as leverage to pull yourself up to his height while pressing him to you.

You both separate from the kiss after remembering that you are, in fact, in public.

“Fuck, get me upstairs now.” You almost said in a whine, desperately clinging onto Chan like your life depended on it—and franky, it actually does.

He just giggles while gently guiding you upstairs to his room, a hand on your lower back while he guides you up the stairs. Entering his room, he stops to call for you,

“Y/n.” 

Your name on his lips made the world stop for a second. It was something simple—he's said it a thousand times—yet, the way he says it now makes you not want him as a best friend. Your name felt like a sleeper agent phrase that awakened a different level of horny in you that you didn’t think was possible.

Instead of replying, you opted to keep kissing him: his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, everywhere your lips could reach.

He falls onto the bed with a soft rustling noise from the sheets, and climbing on top of him, you greedily grind your clothed cunt on his hardening cock under his jeans. 

“Oh fuck, don't do that, not in that dress. I'm gonna cum like in my pants like a loser.” He smiles at you, nose wrinkling in a light-hearted grimace. 

“Oh, Channie,” you started, “I only got this dress so you could take it off.” 

A pathetic moan leaves him, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips jump, his hard cock pressing onto you.

Your lips meet his again. He swallows your sighs of content when his bulge bumps against your throbbing clit, his hands running up your thighs, hot palms dragging up the length of them under the fabric of your dress.

Grabbing handfuls of your ass, Chan keeps the pace as you continue to grind on him, swallowing each other's noises of desperation. 

Chan holds you close to him as he flips you both over, rolling you on your back, his lips reluctantly detaching from yours to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your throat, letting out quiet moans at the taste of it.

Sucking on a specific spot on your neck, Chan's fingers hook on the straps of your dress to shimmy it off of you,  causing a shiver to run down your spine. Now, almost naked in front of him, you paw at his clothes. He pants as he shrugs off his jacket and takes his shirt off, your bare chests pressing against each other's as your lips meet for another feverish kiss.

“Chan, get naked quicker, please- I– I need you inside me so badly.” You whimpered, not caring if you seemed too needy because soon after, Chan's jeans and boxers are on the floor, and his hard cock slaps on his abs, his tip red, angry, leaking for you. Just looking at it, you’re convinced that thing could easily reach up to your throat. 

Ripping your panties off, Chan gets on top of you. “Fuck, you're so wet, lemme hit, babe.” Laughing, you give him the go ahead. Then, his lips are on yours, kissing you as a very large cock tries to split you open.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the satisfying burn of his cock occupying all of your thoughts, successfully dicknotizing you.

Chan wastes no time to set a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass while his pelvis deliciously hits your clit. Clawing at his sheets, you let out loud, unashamed moans, not caring if someone at the relatively calm frat party downstairs heard you.

“Fuck, do you know how long I've dreamt of this? Finally getting to fuck this pussy like it's mine? Are you mine, babe?” Chan babbled, pussy drunk and distracted by your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts.

You're no better than him, already so out of it that you can’t even process the filthy confessions leaving Chan's mouth. Licking your lips, you tilt your head up to suck marks into his skin, burgundy bruises soon blooming as his hips stutter. 

The desperate slapping sounds of your groins meeting shift to shallow ones as you both near your climaxes, Chan letting out precious little gasps and cut-off moans with every thrust.

Not doing any better than him, you whine, dragging your nails down his back, angry red lines appearing on his skin at their wake.

Then, your highs hit you at the same time, white hot pleasure seeping into your bones and boiling under your skin, ears ringing and vision blurring. With a gasp, Chan spills his load deep inside your gummy walls, making your cunt clench around him, sticking to him like a second skin.

Still in that post-orgasm bliss, Chan's hips don't stop moving. stretching your pussy with his cock over and over again, making you both dizzily cling to each other, bodies shivering, mouths drinking in the other's whimpers.

Chan was rutting his hips into yours like he'd perish if he stopped, both of you cringing from over stimulation, Chan sobbing about how good being inside of you felt. Even after just orgasming not 10 seconds ago, he's still hard and desperate to dump another load into you.

You're not sure if your night would end, even after the 4th time he made you cum.

[allysdelta]

Some long-overdue fan art for @asleepyyy 's delicious Good Omens roleswap AU, Oopsie!Omens. They are cranking out comic pages like an absolute maniac right now, and I can't help but be in awe of both the commitment and the creativity.

Thoughts below:

Oopsie!Omens, for those who don't keep up with the comic, roughly follows the events of the Good Omens TV show, but with one significant change: Aziraphale deliberately takes the fall on the Starmaker's behalf back before the Beginning, so here, our ineffable duo are the demon Azazel and the Archangel Jophiel. So far, Jophiel hasn't learned what exactly transpired, but bless it if this odd little barn owl demon isn't both strangely familiar and inexplicably endearing...

This has been the first roleswap/reverse Omens AU that I have been able to get on board with, largely because our heavenly/hellish pair are recognizably them; Azazel is devout, meticulous, and willing to march into the unthinkable to defend what he loves, while Jophiel is clever, snarky, jaded, fiercely protective, and will let nothing stand in the way of finding the truth.

Besides the above, there are two things I really love about this comic: One is that the artist has taken considerable liberty with the ways that the two appear over time, through mannerisms and costume, and every form they take, whether it's a palette change or gender presentation, is a delight. The other is watching how the comic, from a technical and storytelling standpoint, keeps outdoing itself. The artist was always skilled, but it is sheer pleasure to see how much their work advances with each update.

Did I mention that the comic is also funny? It is FUNNY. Brace yourself for the occasional heart stab, though.

Azazel's hands burn when he attempts to pray to God. The thought of the smoke forming art nouveau-esque swirls was entirely too good to pass up.

The actual art (watercolor pencil, layered over with standard colored pencil) looks a bit more radiant in person. My camera was more interested in the pencil marks than the colors.

Asleepyy, if you're reading this, stay well, don't burn yourself out, and know we'll always understand if you need to take a break!

[starry-eyes-love]

Calm Me Down

Main Masterlist Joel Miller Masterlist

The next chapter in the Marriage Dynamics series

Pairing | Husband Joel Miller x Wife F!Reader- AU, No Outbreak

Summary | You wake up having a panic attack, and Joel calms you down. This results in the two of you talking, calming each other’s fears, and finally working through your problems. You feel movement in your pregnancy for the first time while Joel silently talks to his unborn child, asking for a gift that he doesn’t know yet but will receive.

Work Count: 5.5K

Warnings | Series is 18+, Minor DNI

Age difference (implied), language, descriptions of anxiety/panic attack, flashbacks, marriage dynamics (these two finally communicate), hurt and comfort, tenderness and love, mentions of pregnancy, you feel baby movement for the first time, mild reference to past cheating (your father and Joel's ex-wife, not from Joel or you), mild references in the past to physical abuse by your father, references to berating your father did to you in the past.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long on this next part, but here you are. As a reminder, I no longer do tag lists. Make sure to turn on notifications for when I post new written pieces.

“Baby, look at me,” Joel said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him. Joel reached out instinctively and placed a steady hand on your belly, slowly rubbing it and feeling the soft swell of your stomach that was holding and caring for his child. He was trying to help ground you and reassure you that you were okay and that your baby would be alright, too.

These moments come out of nowhere: the sheer panic, the sweaty palms, the narrowing vision. You don't know why, but suddenly, it feels like the whole world is crashing down around you, like you are falling fast off of a cliff, unable to save yourself from sudden death. Your heart races, and you're stuck believing the lies in your head. The lies that you know are not true.

“I'm not good enough. I can't do this. I'll never be more than what I am now: a failure. My husband doesn't love me.”

This feeling inside seizes you, holds you tight, and doesn't allow you to take a proper breath. And that's ok, you think. You don't need to breathe, not yet. But the feeling doesn't stop, and your body eventually screams for another breath. The thing is, though, you can't get any air in, so you panic once again. The cycle never ends. It keeps repeating until you're drowning in your sweat and anxiety. You're having a goddamn panic attack, one that you haven't had in many years. To say you're embarrassed doesn't even come close to describing your emotions. The word you require fails to come to you, so you settle for fear, embarrassment, and loneliness.

You've been way too stressed your entire pregnancy. You're a week shy of being 20 weeks along with your third baby and your fourth pregnancy.

Yeah, we won't talk about that pregnancy. The daughter that you lost at 22 weeks pregnant. To this day, you still don't like thinking about it.

Even though this is a different pregnancy, things seem to haven't gone how you wanted. You finally did tell Joel that you were pregnant at your doctor's appointment when you started spotting blood. You were scared of admitting pregnancy to him, especially when you two had barely talked since Halloween. You didn't know why; you just weren't getting along. It's funny how life does that sometimes, isn't it?

Even though your 20th-week ultrasound was just a few days away, you felt embarrassed that nothing seemed to go as planned this time. You hadn't told Joel you were pregnant technically until you were having bleeding problems. You weren't sexually active with your husband. There was no celebration of being pregnant, just awkward silence, mostly of which came from you. Joel attempted to speak with you, but you'd always clam up and not talk. If you were being honest, it wasn't until late at night on Christmas Eve that Joel and you started to talk and get along again. 

Now, you lay awake in bed, your mind racing, running wild with panic at all the scenarios that weren't even happening. But it felt like they were happening now, and you were scared. You were drowning in panic, unable to slow your mind down, wishing for anything to stop it. 

I'm not good enough. My husband doesn’t want this and doesn't want to be with me. I'm such a horrible wife for not telling him.

Your thoughts wouldn't stop. Your mind kept racing, and you felt like you were drowning. The walls were once again closing in around you, sucking you underneath the surface. You desperately needed a lifeline to grab onto, something to save you from yourself. That's when you felt your husband reach out to you and pull you tight against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, securing you to him while gently whispering, “Baby, come on now, breathe.”

Earlier in the night, Joel had decided not to sleep with his shirt on, something he hadn’t done in a long time. After his shower, he noticed the way you were looking at him. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, you looked at him like you desperately needed something primal from him.

“What's that look for, baby?” He said, glancing over at you and raising just his eyebrow. He was taunting you, wanting you to voice all those dirty little things that he knew you were thinking. He could tell by the look on your face, the way you were breathing, and how you were slowly squeezing your thighs together that you were turned on and sexually aroused. Joel may not be able to give you penetrative sex yet, but dammit, he could eat his wife's pussy if she wanted it. And Joel secretly hoped that you wished to do that tonight.

“I-uh, I-'' you said, stuttering and stammering at the words. You couldn't voice it or say it out loud for some reason. You were never afraid of dirty talk in the bedroom. But considering it has been almost 20 weeks, nearly five months since the two of you have done anything sexual, you were a bit nervous. 

“Why don't you finish getting ready for bed, baby, then come over here, and I'll get ya all nice and relaxed for bed.”

“What did you have in mind?” You asked, hoping Joel would voice it for you.

“Oh, darlin’, you know what I have in mind,” he said, slowly sticking his tongue out and moving it up and down like he does when he licks at you fast when he goes down on you.

You quickly nodded your head and then ran into the bathroom. You needed a shower and desperately needed a shave. You spent the next 20 minutes making yourself feel more sexy and presentable. But when you entered the bedroom, you noticed all your work was in vain. Joel was lying down and loudly snoring already. Immediately, your heart sank at seeing him fast asleep.

Joel intended to give you, his wife, some much-needed affection and attention. But he underestimated how tired he was. When his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light and asleep within seconds. You, however, had laid there with your eyes open, overthinking stuff once again.

You loved being pregnant, but you hated the first part of pregnancy, where the anxiety was horrible. Your doctor said because your hormones change so much in the first stages of pregnancy, anxiety is common among women. And boy, did you ever have anxiety, especially this time around with being pregnant in your late 30s. 

Even though your hormones were already leveling out, you were still nervous about knowing if your baby was growing healthy inside of you. You knew that after your 20-week ultrasound appointment, you would calm down. But you just had to get there first. You were nervous about losing this pregnancy. You remember the pregnancy you had lost; that 20th-week ultrasound showed significant problems. If everything would show that you were ok, just like the two other pregnancies did with your boys, you knew you'd calm down. You kept telling yourself that everything would be ok. But that crippling anxiety kept sneaking up at you at the worst times and holding you tight, like tonight.

The longer the night continued, the more you wanted to reach out and have your husband hold you tight to help calm your fears. But he looked so peaceful lying there sleeping; you didn't want to wake him. You both were getting along again, and there was no more fighting between you. So you didn't know where this anxiousness was coming from tonight. Your body felt off, and you didn't know why.  You had tried to fall asleep, struggling with your mind to get any rest. At one point, you had dozed off a little bit, but you quickly woke up in a panic, sweating profusely. You were smack dab in the middle of yet another bad panic attack. You haven't had one of these episodes of panic for many years. Usually, stress or something larger would trigger them, but nothing unusual has happened recently. So you lay there silently, trying to will all of these bad feelings that you were having away. But no matter what you did, you could still feel your heart race and your chest constrict. It felt like you couldn't fully take a deep breath.  You were drowning fast in terror and panic, not knowing if you could get yourself out of it anymore. You didn't realize in your panicked state that your husband woke up. But then, all of a sudden, when your chest constricted the tightest, and you thought you were going to die from lack of oxygen, you felt Joel’s strong arms wrap around you. He gently pulled you to him, where your back met his chest. He let out a long exhale while slowly whispering, “Baby, come on, breathe.

After Joel had laid down, he had fallen asleep suddenly, too suddenly for his liking. He wanted to cuddle you and give you much-needed attention and affection. Joel could see that you were stressed with work and raising the boys, and Joel's chaotic work schedule didn't help you. He recently hired a manager to work out in the field with Tommy so he could stay back in the office more and focus on the business side of things.  His contracting business was expanding, growing at a rapid rate where Joel didn’t need to be out in the field all the time working. He could take that much-needed break and focus his time and skills on the best ways of growing his company. 

Joel suddenly was jolted awake by something, but he was unsure of what.  When he opened his eyes, Joel saw your back as you were facing away from him. Joel thought maybe it was a bad dream that had woken him up.  Slowly, he ran his hand down his face, slightly shaking it and yawning to clear his head.  Upon looking over at you again, Joel saw that you were curled up into a ball, looking like you were resting peacefully.  He smiled silently, admiring you and what looked like your peaceful slumber. But then he heard it, the small sob that left your chest as you struggled to breathe in air.  Joel frowned, knowing all too well that you were panicking and having a bad panic attack yet again.

Baby, I thought we stopped these, he thought, not enjoying seeing his wife struggle.  He knew you were drowning in your head, unable to get your head above water as gulp after gulp of quick spurts of air were leaving your lungs.  You were like a lost ship out to sea, desperately looking for a way back into port.  Joel knew he was your only lifeline, and it broke his heart that he needed to be this again.  He loved you and always supported you, but seeing you panic like this broke his heart.  Something was bothering you, and he hoped, like hell, that someone wasn’t him.

“Baby, come on, breathe.” He said, slowly reaching out to you and pulling you into his chest.

But you couldn't; your heart was hammering in your chest, and it wouldn't slow down. “I can't breathe,” you said, hyperventilating and sobbing. You didn't know what was wrong or why, but it felt like you couldn't breathe. “Something’s wrong, Joel, I can’t- I can’t breathe.” You said, rushing air in and out of your lungs fast. 

“Baby, look at me,” Joel said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him. Joel reached out instinctively and placed a steady hand on your belly, slowly rubbing it and feeling the soft swell of your stomach that was holding and caring for his child. He was trying to help ground you and reassure you that you were okay and that your baby would be alright, too.

As soon as your eyes met his, you started sobbing and saying, “I can't do this. I'm a failure. I'm always fucking up. No one cares about m-me or loves me.”

“No, babe. Come on now, look at me,” Joel said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes to look at him.  “Come on, with me, yeah? Breathe.”  Joel then took a slow, deep breath, and you mirrored his actions.

“That’s it, sugar, nice and slow,” he said, breathing with you. He was trying to slow your breathing down. After readjusting himself, Joel sat beside you, gently taking your hand and placing it on his chest, holding it tight against him. 

“Feel how I breathe, darlin', now match it. Come on now, slow breath in.” 

*Joel took a slow breath in.*

 “Now, slowly breathe out.” 

*Joel slowly breathed out.*

“And again,” he said, getting you to focus on slowing your breathing down. One of his hands held yours against his chest so that you could feel the pattern of his breaths. The other hand was protectively lying over your bump, gently stroking the skin, centering both you and him that everything was alright with your baby.

After several moments of slowing your breathing and getting you to breathe normally again, you finally sighed and said, “Thanks, Joel.”  

Still sitting above you, Joel furrowed his brow as he looked at you. He didn’t know why you were having a panic attack tonight. It stressed him out and worried him, especially since you were pregnant. He didn’t want you to get too stressed out and put the baby you were carrying under any more stress. After a long moment of observing you, Joel finally sighed and asked, “Why d’ya think you’re a failure?” As he waited for your response, he slowly started stroking your belly once again.

“I don’t know, I- I was upset and spouted my mouth off. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Don’t give me that shit of ‘didn’t mean anything by it.’ Christ woman.” Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand while removing his other hand from your belly.  

You frowned slightly at his movements, knowing that now he was agitated. You didn't want to have any more arguments with him. You two have been finally getting along for a while, and you weren't in the mood to go back to the way things were, where you hardly spoke, and if you did, it would result in an argument. To you, those days were behind you. 

When Joel felt you stiffen below him, he froze. He was frustrated at the situation tonight. Something was bothering you to the point where it made you panic, and he wanted to know why. Why did you think that you were a failure? He felt his heart ache when you continued to look up at the ceiling, not wanting to look at him for fear that it'd start another argument. 

Since when did Joel Miller become such an asshole that his wife didn't want to look at him? Since when did he become your father?

Joel took a deep breath and sighed, realizing how harsh his attitude had been these past few months. Yeah, you two haven't had sex since Halloween, almost five months ago. He reasoned with himself that the lack of sexual intercourse was because of the doctor's orders. But you two haven't done anything else either. Joel didn't blame you; he blamed himself for the change. Tommy even commented the other day to Joel that his brother had changed, but not in a good way. Yeah, Joel Miller was an asshole. But what bothered him the most was he's been an asshole to you, and you've never deserved it.

Sighing at this realization, he turned towards you and gently touched your chin. “Hey, look at me, will ya,” he said, cupping your cheek with his hand. When you finally decided to look at him, he smiled tenderly and whispered, “I love you. You know that, right, baby?”

He felt his eyes sting when you didn't answer and just stared at him. Joel Miller has been drastically fucking things up.

“I'm so fucking sorry, darlin’,” he said while gently placing his hand back again on your bump. “I’m sorry for makin’ this. For fucking everything up where I wasn’t there for you emotionally like I should have been.”

You just glared at him, struggling to keep your tears from falling. “Y-you didn't, shit,” you said, brushing a single tear away from your cheeks. I’m not doing this right now. I’m not going to break down again, you thought. 

Joel could see you were struggling not to get emotional, and he was trying so hard to find ways to fix what he had already broken. “Baby, I was so mad at what ya told me on Halloween. That I wasn't rockin’ your sexual world anymore. I got, fuck baby, I got mad and jealous.”

“Seriously? What could you have been jealous about?” You said, snapping at him with more force than you intended. You were confused and slightly irritated at your husband. Joel was the one who shut you out after Halloween, not you. He barely spoke to you, held you; hell, he still hasn't even fucked you since that night. Sure, you pulled away, too, and you didn't tell him you were pregnant. But every time you tried to open up, he'd shut you down, yell at you, or treat you like you weren't his wife. You sat in silence, not knowing how to respond to your husband. Joel wasn't moving or answering you either, and for a minute, you thought that maybe he'd fallen asleep. But then you heard it, a sniffle, followed by a choked-off sob.

“Joel-” you said softer, looking over at him as you noticed tears streaming down his face. He placed a hand over his eyes, sobbing into it. You didn't understand what was happening or why he was giving you this emotional response.

“I'm s-sorry. I'm so fucking sorry that you d-don't want to be w-with me anymore.” Joel said, continuing to sob into his hand.

Where the hell was this all coming from? You thought. “Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I-”

“Don’t,” Joel said sternly, quickly brushing his tears away. Joel hated crying by himself, and he hated crying in front of you. After taking a moment to collect himself, he leaned down and whispered to your belly, “I'm so sorry that Daddy has fucked this up. I-I love both you and your mama so fucking much, ok?” He gently kissed your belly and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes away. When he sat up, he looked around the room, admiring the home you two had built together, with the front of him facing away from you.

Joel wouldn't look at you, even when you asked him. You were scared, scared of what was coming next. You knew this scene, knew it well from your father. It would be the moment that Joel would tell you he’s been sleeping with someone else.  He’d tell you that you were too much for him and that he couldn’t help it, that it was an accident. You also waited for the words ‘you ruined my life’ to come to his lips, just like your father told you before. But the longer you waited, the longer it was apparent that those words would never come. That’s when you felt your heart begin to race again.

“I can practically hear those gears turning in your head, love. Stop overthinking things. I just wanted to say that you deserve better; you both do. And I know I'm not your favorite human right now and that you’re ashamed to carry my child-”

“Joel Miller, what are you even talking about? I'm not ashamed of-”

Joel stopped you by raising a hand, silencing you, saying, “Please, just let me finish.” He then continued when he knew you wouldn't interrupt him again. “I've, I'm- shit- I'm not good with this stuff, with words. I just- fuck.” 

Joel didn't know what he was trying to say. He felt sorry for Halloween and for the miscommunication you two had. He’s been moody since then and not present in his marriage. He was also very sorry for not making you feel comfortable enough to tell him things again, like when you were first pregnant. But most of all, he was sorry for disappointing you as a man and husband.

When Joel realized the last admission in his mind, he felt tears well up again. You had opened your mouth to speak again, but Joel interrupted you by saying, “Ya know, I think my ex-wife was right all those years ago.”

“How so?” you said, tensing at the mention of her.

“She said I always fucked things up, and that's why she was- uh- why it didn't work out between us.” Joel almost said it. The thing he hadn’t told you. That his first wife was unfaithful because he wasn't present in their marriage and didn't give her enough support after Sarah was born.

“Joel,” you said while slowly grabbing his hand. “Baby, I'm not her, and for the record, you ain't fucking things up.”

Joel snorted at your comment, saying, “Darlin', we both know that ain't true. You're pregnant with my child. And you didn't even want to tell me because of it, because of me.”

“Joel, I didn't tell you because I was scared. I'm a woman in my middle thirties who told her husband life was stale in the bedroom. On that same night, he also knocked me up. I wanted to tell you immediately, but as soon as I attempted, you weren't there. You were working 16-hour days and moody because of no help at work. Yeah, I fucked up. I should have said something, but I was scared. I was scared I was trapping you in a marriage you didn't want.”

“What do you mean a marriage I didn't want? Baby, I love you and want you, always. I've never felt trapped, not ever. Why are you thinkin’ that?” Joel said, screwing his face up and not understanding why you thought he didn't want to be married.

“I don't know, just something my dad said when-”

“I ain't your old man,” Joel said, grinding his teeth and flaring his nostrils. At one time, your father, Pat, was Joel's best friend. But that abruptly ended when Pat laid his hands on his daughter and unforgivably hurt her.

“I know it's just- I was worried you didn't want this, want me. I know I'm a lot, a handful, that-” Your voice started to tremble, and your lip was quivering. You couldn't say it out loud. But Joel knew it was the last thing you heard your father say before you walked out of his life, forever.

Flashback

“Joel, I know my daughter, ok? She's a handful, a complete pain in the ass, and a liability. One that I wish like hell wasn't my damn responsibility anymore. So do yourself a favor; don't get involved. She'll just ruin your life. She’s already ruined mine.”

You had stood there and heard your father tell Joel, your new fiance, he didn't want you as a daughter anymore. That you being around was a burden to him and his life. You were standing in the kitchen as Pat, your father, talked to Joel in the living room. You weren't supposed to hear the conversation, and you knew that. But with what you heard, it had shattered you. You walked out of your father's house with tears in your eyes, never returning. It was good that you walked out before you heard your father's last comment. The one comment that yet today made Joel grind his teeth and see red anytime he thought about it.

“Joel, that girl of mine is nothin’ but a goddamn whore. A bitch, just like her mother. She'll just hurt you in the end. My advice, make sure you have a little something on the side, a nice piece of ass as I did, just as a pick me up. Trust me, you'll get sick of looking at her pathetic ass day in and day out. I did with her mother, and it felt great to go and get some much-needed attention from the girls I had on the side…”

After your father called you a whore and told Joel what took place when Joel had you hang out at his house, he felt sick and saw red with anger. Your dad's weekend trips and late-night house calls were due to him fucking around on your mom, a woman who was battling cancer and eventually lost. But the worst thing that Joel found out was that all those black eyes you were supporting in high school and college weren't because you got into a fight or that a boyfriend hit you. No, Pat was getting drunk and using his fists against his daughter's face. Joel also had a sneaky suspicion that the two cracked ribs you had in college also came from Pat.  Joel couldn't believe that his best friend did that, and worse, you never said anything. Joel would have stopped it immediately if he had known. Pat was no longer in either of your lives anymore.

Present Day

“Baby, you ain't too much, so stop thinking that. C’mere.” Joel said, having you come and sit on his lap while he placed his back against the headboard.

He helped you straddle him, putting your hard baby belly against his softer belly. Your bump prevented you from getting as close as usual, but it was close enough that Joel could still wrap his arms around you and rest his forehead against yours.  

“Now, darlin’, I want you to take a deep breath for me, ok?”  After you took a deep breath and slowly let it out, you felt your heartbeat return to normal, along with his.  

“I’m so sorry, Joel, that I didn’t tell you-”

“Don’t. Please darlin’. I-I don’t care what we’ve done before. I care about the right here and now. Please.”

You could feel how stressed Joel was. How his muscles tensed with you, referencing you were sorry again for not telling your husband at the beginning of your pregnancy that you were pregnant.  If you could do it again, but differently, you would.  But that’s not life.  Life is about living in the moment, feeling emotions, and allowing yourself to experience it in its messy glory.  It’s about making mistakes and then learning from those mistakes.  But most of all, it’s about forgiveness, hope, compassion, love, and understanding.  You both understood that the choices made these past few months were out of anger, frustration, and loneliness.

With your eyes closed and your understanding of the situations that have surrounded the two of you for a while, you quietly said, “I love you, old man.”

Joel let out a small snort at your teasing. ‘Old man’ was a nickname you gave him long ago when the two of you started dating, and now it was a term of endearment. 

“I love you too, baby girl,” he said, slowly nuzzling his nose against yours.  

When you pulled back and opened your eyes, you saw your husband looking at you lovingly.  His eyes were so soft, tenderness seen behind them. He was your lifeline that tethered you to this world, keeping you anchored and not drifting.  When he slowly kissed you, you felt him tell you in the kiss that you were loved and that everything would be alright.  He was your rock, your protector, your soulmate. But more importantly, he was your Joel. The man who saw you for what you were inside. He saw past your faults and insecurities, of you believing you were too much. He gave you a safe place to land and be in the moment.  You had a lifetime with him, helped him raise Sarah, and gave birth to two strong-willed little boys you loved dearly. And now you were pregnant again, with a baby that was half him and half you growing inside of you. This little one was very much a surprise, but the best possible surprise.  It forced you both to stop your chaotic lives and slow down to remember what life was all about Love.

After several tender kisses, you started to giggle against his mouth.  Joel pulled back at your giggling, confused at your antics. “Darlin’, are you laughing at me?”

You continued giggling and said, “No, Joel, I’m not,” but then you giggled again.

“Baby, please-”

“Joel, I just felt the baby move.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up, surprised, looking at you with excitement. “R-really? Just now?”

“Yes, just now, when I was thinking how much I loved you and how much this child is teaching us that we need to communicate still, to be strong, and-”

Joel slowly moved his hands down to your stomach and rubbed it tenderly.  He knew he wouldn’t feel movement for another few weeks.  But seeing you feel life for the first time was the best possible gift one could experience with you.  The joy on your face at the realization that a baby was growing inside you, one that he helped create.

“There it is again,” you said, smiling and giggling. You placed your hand right over Joel’s hand, right where you felt movement.  It felt like a cricket, or something ran across your stomach, but from the inside.  It was always the oddest feeling that you’d feel. It wasn’t a full kick yet; those would come in a few weeks.  But in this movement, it always made you laugh when you’d feel it for the first time.

When you looked up at Joel, you were beaming with the biggest smile, while he had the most tender look in his eyes. Softly, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over your skin, giving you and his baby affection. “She's telling her mama that she loves her.”

“Joel, it’s too early. We don’t-” you said, choking up with emotion.  Joel knew you wanted a girl so badly, especially after the two of you lost the only pregnancy before where you were pregnant with a girl. It was a sore subject for the two of you. 

Before, when you were pregnant with a girl, Joel had come home early from work because you said you weren’t feeling well.  He noticed you were sleeping on the couch when he entered the house. Joel quietly went upstairs and showered, but you yelled for him while he was washing his body. Joel quickly rinsed himself off and ran out to the living room, wearing nothing but a towel with water still dripping down his back. When he got to you, you were sitting up and crying.  When he had asked you what was wrong, you pulled back the blanket, and Joel saw a large pool of bright red blood on the couch. You were rushed to the hospital by ambulance, but it was already too late.  The girl you were pregnant with had no heartbeat detected. You stayed in the hospital for observation, delivering the tiny baby that night. 

After you were asleep in the hospital, Joel had gone home. He took the sledgehammer to the couch, tears streaming down his face while hitting it. Tommy found him beating the hell out of the sofa, crying and screaming at how much he hated the world for taking the one thing that you wanted away from you: a little girl.

And now, all these years later, when you hear Joel reference a girl, you can’t help but get scared. Sure, you hoped for a girl and dreamed of it again, but you also didn't want to go through losing another baby once again.   

“It’s just a hunch, darlin’, and don’t worry, mama; I’ll keep you both safe.  Now come on, time for you both to go to bed.” Joel said, wrapping you in his arms to help silence your fears.

Joel laid you down and got you situated after he brought you some water to drink.  He pulled you tight to him, your back against his bare chest as he traced small circles on your belly, helping you quickly fall asleep.  After Joel knew you were sleeping soundly, he quietly whispered, “Little one, please stay in here no matter what, ok? I don’t know if you’re a girl or a boy, but I think you may be a girl this time.  Regardless, your mama needs you to be healthy, and Daddy needs you to be healthy. You’ve heard bad words these past few months when your mama and I have been arguing. But please know, I’m beyond excited to be a dad yet again, your dad. I love you both so much, ok. Stay in there, and let your mama have a nice, easy pregnancy, ok? I love you.”

Joel stilled his hand on your bump, gently holding it snug while he drifted off to sleep. Neither of you knew that deep inside your belly, a tiny baby girl was growing nice and strong. Even though this pregnancy was difficult at times, that baby had no plans of leaving anytime soon. She would be the miracle and the one thing that helped you focus on fixing your marriage once and for all. 

They say that life throws the most challenging curveballs when you least expect them and that sometimes those challenging events shape you into a better human being. That’s always been the story for you and Joel, and now, you both are about to enter the exciting part of your pregnancy—the one that will reshape your current Marriage Dynamics.

End of Chapter

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Helping Hand

Jungkook isn't kind, or at least he doesn't seem to be. But one look beyond the surface reveals that he's a lot warmer than one might think.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??

Length: 2k words

There is no taglist.

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You're sitting in the command center where Jungkook is busy steering the ship and putting in coordinates, while you're busy staring out the giant rounded window, watching planets in the distance and meteorites pass by, as well as the occasional star flutter around.

Jungkook had offered you to spend time at the command central outside of your room for once- though he made sure to emphasize that 'one wrong move' and he'd put you right back in there for sure. It's a little odd, how contradictive he sometimes is- but you believe it might just be what his kind usually behaves like. You're not sure- you've never even asked which species he belongs to, down the line. He looks like he might be a Bolku, with his color changing eyes and tall build- but he's missing the distinctive pale skin and horns on his head, so you're not sure. Maybe he's of a different kind?

"Do you.." He starts, not looking up from the control panel as he looks at something on the display down at his hands, "..have any hobbies?" He asks, a little awkwardly, but you welcome the attempt at a conversation.

"No." You shake your head. He frowns a little to himself, taps around on the screen.

"No?" He wonders. "Then what did you do all day back on earth?" He wants to know, and you shrug, before looking outside again, watching a large meteorite slowly moving past the large ship.

"Sleep, if there was no work." You answer. "But sleeping a lot can make your head hurt." You giggle. He doesn't seem like he finds it funny, though, as he sighs, sitting down on the actually pretty worn down chair.

"But if there.." he begins, watching something load on the screens in front of him, a soft, gentle pinging sound signaling something in progress as the system scans the ships's surroundings, "..if there was something you could do, to pass time and.. amuse yourself I guess, what would it be?" He wonders, eyes slowly moving up without his head turning at all, greenish blue gaze watching you from his spot at the control panel.

"..I guess, maybe crocheting?" You wonder, thinking to yourself. "Yeah. I saw older people sell those.. small crochet animals on the side of the street sometimes. I think.. I'd like to know how to make them." You say. He scoffs, clearly not impressed.

"That's nothing practical at all." He says. "What about productive things?" He wonders, arms crossed as he keeps looking at you from beneath his lashes, light sometimes catching on the two silver balls from his pierced brow.

"Well I mean- I'd produce those tiny animals?" You try and joke-

and as he scoffs at that, there's the hint of a smile, his head shaking as he returns his attention to the screens in front of him, scan now complete.

You're about to ask him if he himself has any hobbies, when something similar to an alarm sounds, red Warning label pulsating on the large windows to indicate something dangerous. Jungkook is instantly alert, eyes flashing a sharp yellow before they turn red, while he assesses whatever is going on on his control screens. And then, a loud bang and whaling noise can be heard, before the ship moves suddenly, as if pushed side to side by giant waves of water. It makes you fall from the ledge near the window you were sitting on, tumbling down the floor before you hit the wall on one side, shoulder harshly crashing against the edge of a metal console.

And then, it's quiet, only a slight small pinging sound again, while the system checks for any damage.

"Fuck.." Jungkook curses, before he walks over to where you're sitting up now, ship having stabilized again. "You okay?" he wonders, squatting down near you to watch you roll your shoulder before you nod.

"Yeah- just fell. What happened?" You wonder, looking at him, and he sighs, before he picks you up like a ragdoll with his hands under your arms to stand you up again.

"Scanner's got an issue." He shrugs, arms crossed as he walks back to the control panels. "Probably nothing too bad, but we can't fly like this." He grumbles to himself, while playing with the piercings of his bottom lip, eyes an icy and stressed color of turquoise, signaling his inner emotions. "We'll have to stop at the next Ship station to get it fixed." He informs you, and you nod.

"How long until the next planet?" You wonder, now a little worried about the safety of not only you, but the entire ship with the scanner not working properly.

"Not long. Crion is pretty much only a few hours away- I can get it fixed there." He says, and you nod.

It's quiet, except for the low rumbling of the ship and some beeps here and there, before he talks again, awfully soft.

"Don't worry." He says, sitting down in the chair again. "It'll be fine."

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Crion is a pretty, but very, very crowded planet. It's a sanctuary for many different species all across the universe, and it shows in the absolute variety of languages, foods and other items sold on the streets.

"Here." Jungkook tells you, before his hands come into view from behind you, clicking the tracking collar back around your neck. "I really don't want to have to search for you just because you strayed around- so please just try and stay within my sight." He says, clearly stressed about the whole situation.

The ship has a very obvious dent in one of the sides, damage that needs to be repaired before the scanner could even be talked about. You're not quite sure why, to you the dent isn't actually that bad and just.. aesthetically maybe a bit ugly, but you don't question it. Jungkook is the pilot after all- he'll know what's best.

While Jungkook walks over to talk to a greenish humanoid with multiple arms about his ship, you stay close, just like he told you to- though you can't help but look around here and there, loud metal noises and large bird like creatures in the skies making you a little anxious. "My people already looked at damage-" The humanoid alien says, a tablet in one if his four hands, as he taps with one finger. "Scanner B3 and E2 software. Scanner A1 and A2 fluid damage. And big case damage!" He argues, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

"Yeah I already figured that out myself- can you fix it?" He asks, a greenish yellow that underlines his clear suspicion of the person in front of him.

"Fix it I can-" The man says, three eyes suddenly watching Jungkook with challenge. "You can pay?" He asks.

Jungkook grows tense. "How much?" He wonders, and the man uses one of his three fingers to tap away, quickly calculating something in a program.

"Sixteen-" The alien starts, before his eyes move back to look at Jungkook. "-hundred."

Jungkook takes a deep breath, clearly not able to just say yes to that price.

"Is there any way we can push that down?" He asks, and the alien shrugs, putting the tablet away, before he looks at you.

"You can pay with slave." The alien person offers, leaning forward a bit to sniff with his cat-shaped nose. "Very young. I like- can work for us." He begins.

"Okay-" You start without thinking, when Jungkook's head snaps towards you, eyes an angry red.

"Excuse us for a second-" He offers the man, before he grabs you by the back of your collar, pulling you to the side and out of hearing range for the man. "-have you hit your head on the ship?!" He hisses at you, frown on his face as he talks down towards you due to the height difference.

"What? No." You shake your head. "You just- need to get your ship fixed and if he wants me instead of sixteen hundred that's a great deal-"

"I'm not selling you into prostitution just to get my fucking ship fixed, you lunatic!" He growls again, breaking eye contact as he looks around, taking a deep breath. "There has to be a different planet where we can get it fixed-"

"Jungkook it's fine-" You start, but he turns around and stares at you with a gaze so unfocused in it's emotions that it almost looks like his eyes portray every color they can at once.

"No!." He says, pupils flicking from one of your eyes to the other rapidly. "… I don't care. Anything but that. There has to be a different way." He decides, and maybe from sheer shock over his outburst alone, you don't question him any further. "Come." He instead tells you, and you follow obediently, no longer really feeling like going against his word.

"Have decided?" The man says, and Jungkook crosses his arms.

"I'll pay 850 up front." He says. "The rest after you're finished." He offers, and the man laughs.

"You crazy!" He says. "900 up front."

"Okay." Jungkook agrees, before he pulls out a small, phone-like device to transfer the money to the alien mechanic.

"You really not want sell slave?" The man tries again.

"No." Jungkook denies, finishing up the transfer before he puts his device away, and grabs your hand rather roughly, pulling you away from him after making sure to turn around one last time.

"And she's not a fucking slave."

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"I can't believe this is the third time I'm asking you.." Jungkook sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What. Do. You. Want. To. Eat." He tries once more, because true to his word, he's been trying for the past hour or so to get you something to eat.

"Nothing." You say, yet again, almost a little amused by the game you're playing.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, clearly looking like he's either praying to gods above- or like he's really trying hard to contain himself.

"Jungkook you need the money to pay off the ship's repairs-" You start, but he simply tugs you by your hand again to a small, open food stall. "Jungkook-"

"Can I have something to eat for this thing?" Jungkook asks the short man grilling the battered.. fish? You're not sure what it is, but it smells pretty good.

"Hey!" You argue at his choice of words for you, and the man chuckles a little.

"Sure. That'll be five." He mumbles, and Jungkook pays before you can even argue- steaming fried pieces of.. whatever placed in a Styrofoam container that Jungkook puts into your hands.

"Eat." He demands, sitting down on a bench under a small roof with you.

You simply do as he tells you to, biting into the still steaming food, really pretty uncaring as to what it might be. It tastes sort of like fish- a little spicy, but very pleasant. He's simply sitting next to you with his back curved and his elbows resting on his knees, eyes constantly roaming around like he's some guard dog ready to defend at any given point.

He's probably still thinking about how to get the money for the repairs- and you still don't understand why he was so.. aggressively against the idea of just selling you. It almost felt like there was an emotional response to it rather than just regular sympathy for you. But it doesn't matter- because you want to help as well, considering he's been somewhat taking care of you for a little while now.

You poke his biceps before holding out your box with one piece of fish eaten, and the other just having been bitten once. "What?" He asks.

"I'm full." You say. He rolls his eyes, sighs, but takes your scraps anyways, eating them while swing your legs on the bench next to him. You're yawning, clearly tired- and he finishes your food next to you, before he leans back on the bench, and rather clumsily pushes you by your shoulder to lay over his lap, thighs surprisingly comfortably and warm. And after a moment of surprise, you finally put your legs up and use your hands to support your head a bit more-

his own resting on your shoulder, as if to make sure you know he's still there.

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[writingstoraes]

can you do an insta au where ur max’s sister and ur dating charles 🧡🧡

choose a lane 🏁

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread hehehe tysm for requesting this anon! hope u like it 🤍 lmk what u guys think!

about: you can never win between your brother and boyfriend.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen, scuderiaferrari, and 567,091 others

yourusername race day ready ❤️ glad to be in monaco!

maxverstappen You're wearing Ferrari colors again 😒

yourusername there's red in red bull, take it as a win :D

charles_leclerc Guess she loves me more than you hahahaha

maxverstappen Act funny and you will never see her again!!!

yourusername ??? such children

charles_leclerc Mon porte bonheur ❤️ My good luck charm

yourusername rooting for your p1, babyyyy 😘

maxverstappen EXCUSE ME

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, isahernaez, arthurleclerc, and 456,213 others

yourusername been back and forth in the paddock today, can't seem to watch the race peacefully without max and charles arguing 😴 anyway, best of luck today, scuderiaferrari and redbullracing!

scuderiaferrari We thank you for the endless support, yourusername! ❤️

redbullracing Glad to have you back, Y/N!

maxverstappen You wanna know how to not have a hard time going back and forth? Choose a lane and stay here in Red Bull.

charles_leclerc She's wearing the prancing horse isn't she? She stays with Ferrari 🤷‍♂️

yourusername keep it up and i will head over to mclaren and support lando instead

lestappenfan Wonder how tired Y/N must be from dealing with Max and Charles 😭

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon23, maxverstappen, and 605,223 others

yourusername charles and max love arguing in my mentions but this is really how they are in real life. sometimes i feel like i'm the third wheel but that's their secret of course 🫣

congratulations on p1 and p2 this weekend, charles_leclerc and maxverstappen! ❤️ please stop giving me headaches now.

charles_leclerc Thank you for the support, chèrie! Je tàime ❤️

maxverstappen Ew?????

lestappenrocks LMAOOOOO MAX

maxverstappen Happy to always have you at my races, dear sister! I'm your brother so you should always pick me 😁

charles_leclerc Stop using genetics as an argument mate

yourusername maybe this is the last race ill ever watch

charlos23 lol lestappen being petty as hell here but being bffs off track they are so ??

-----------

tagging: @slytherheign <333 hope ure doing well love mwah

notes: this was a cute idea hehehe tysm anon! lmk what u guys think 🤍

[goquokka00]

The Roomie Effect (Pt 2)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: You're roommates with your friend Jisung and his boyfriend, Minho. The downsides? You're attracted to both of them, and they're a fairly...active couple. Little do you know; they're also attracted to you. And they want you to be in their relationship with them.

Pairings: Jisung X Reader (F!) X Minho

Genre: Fluff, humor, non-idol au but Stray Kids still knows each other, smut (MDNI)

Warnings: Mentions of sex and alcohol, "vaping" (reader uses diffuser sticks like pure and cloudy, so no nicotine), reader gets drunk, anal sex (male x male), Sub! Jisung, Dom! Minho, Jisung jerks himself off, cumming inside

Word Count: 6.6K

"You're actually dumb, you know that?" You told Jisung, looking at the answers he had come up with for your Music Theory homework. It had been a few days since they had...y'know...and everything seemed pretty normal.

It was a little awkward the next day afterward, as Jisung couldn't look at you without blushing. But after reassuring both of them that you didn't hear a thing (you definitely did but you didn't want them to worry), everything seemed to go right back to how it was. Which was good, because you'd hate for things to change between the three of you.

"How?! That's right, that chord progression is right!" Jisung countered, pointing to the sheet of paper.

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

"A three chord can't go to a seven diminished, dumbass!"

"Yes, it can! See, look at the chart that YOU made!"

"Bitch, that's going to a four or two chord!"

"Oh, well would you look at that." Jisung said, taking the chart and getting a closer look. "It is, isn't it?"

"I told you, you're dumb."

"Hey! You were the one asking for my help!"

"Hey, quiet down in there or I'm getting the tissues!" Minho yelled, looking into the kitchen from the living room. The both of you flinched at the threat, already knowing that he would 100% do that if given the opportunity.

"Sorry, Min." Jisung apologized. Minho just let out a sigh, rubbing his temples.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Just...keep the volume down." Minho said, turning back to his work.

You didn't blame him for wanting it to be quiet. Unlike you and Jisung, who had to make music, Minho had to watch people dancing to it.

Minho was a Dance Choreographer Major, wanting to go into making dances for idols and professional dancers. And one of the things he had to do was evaluate different dances that they were assigned to watch. Talk about what the teams do well, what could be improved, and things that the students would take and use for their own choreographies.

And that's what he was doing right now.

"You got it. We'll be as quiet as mice." Jisung told him, giving his boyfriend a thumbs up.

"See, you say that, but my bet is that you're gonna start yelling again."

"Am not!"

"Then what are you doing right now?"

"Oh, wow, real funny, wise guy."

"Oh, this is funny? We're gonna see how funny this is in about 3 seconds-"

"Guys!" You yelled, finally having about enough. Both boys blushed, looking over at you. "If you're gonna fuck, do it already--"

"We aren't gonna fuck!" They both yelled at the same time, faces now red. All you could do was laugh, twirling your pencil in your fingers.

"Then both of you quiet down, please. Minho, we'll stay quiet. Jisung, let's just look at the next problem right here." You said, keeping your eyes on your homework.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Jisung said, going to look at the problem as well. As the two of you went back to work, Minho watched both of you closely, smiling at the sight of the two of you working together. It was cute, the way that you'd point something out and Jisung would nod, only to explain it to you in a way that you'd understand.

He wanted to see it all the time.

||

"Hey, have you seen Ji's--What are you doing?!"

You almost fell out of your chair in shock as Minho burst into your room, catching you with one of your diffusers in your mouth. You took it out, coughing the vapers as Minho went and took the diffuser from you.

"These are bad for your health, you know that?!" Minho yelled, looking like an angry mom. Well, he was acting like it, too. But you just gave him a pout, crossing your arms as he held the diffuser out in front of you.

"Relax, it's not what you think it is." You said, grabbing the box to the stick and holding it out for Minho to look at it. "It's a diffuser pen, no nicotine. All they have is vitamins. That one specifically has B12 and C."

"You sure?" Minho asked, looking to you. You just nodded, getting up and going over to him, taking the diffuser out of his hands.

"Yeah. I only use them when I'm studying or can't sleep. I have a melatonin one for the sleep problem, but I also use it to keep my mental shit in check." You explained, breathing in a puff, letting it out along with the vapers. Then, you held it out to Minho, smiling. "I haven't used this one for a few days, and I haven't used the melatonin one in forever. So if you don't believe me, go ahead and try it."

Minho gave you an unsure look but took the diffuser. He gave it a quick glance, looking back at you before putting it in his mouth and did what you had a few seconds before. Except unlike how you breathed in and out without a hitch, Minho coughed the vapers out.

"What the hell?! Why was that so cold?!" Minho asked, looking to you as you laughed a bit.

"It's supposed to be refreshing. Honestly, it feels really nice after talking or singing all day." You said, gesturing for him to try again. "Don't worry, I had a similar reaction to it my first time. You get used to it."

"And you're sure I won't get addicted or high or anything?" Minho asked. You just laughed, shaking your head.

"Nope. I don't do that stuff, and if I did, I wouldn't be pressuring you to do it." You told him. Minho nodded, breathing in again. This time, he held it in his lungs for a second, before breathing out the vapers. "See? Not so bad, is it?"

"Actually, it's not." Minho told you, handing the diffuser stick back. "They're actually pretty nice."

"Mhm. They're probably the only things keeping me sane in college besides alcohol, you, and Jisung." You admitted, laughing a bit. Your laugh was music to Minho's ears.

"We keep you sane?"

"Yeah, I mean, you guys might be a bit much sometimes, but honestly, I think I see you guys as some of my closest friends."

"Huh." Minho nodded, though, your words stung a bit. Just friends? Is that really all you saw them as?

It wasn't.

You wouldn't admit it, but it hurt you to say that as much as it hurt Minho to hear it. You really liked both of them, after all. You wanted nothing more than to be with either of them. Hell, maybe even both. But...

You couldn't. They were already together, and they were fucking adorable at that. You couldn't ruin their relationship, no shot. That was a shit thing to do, both as a friend and as a roommate. But there was no use dwelling on it right now.

"So uh, you asked if I've seen something?" You asked, just wanting to move on and forget about that.

"Oh, right. I was wondering if Ji's lyric book was in here."

"Mm... I don't think it is. There wouldn't really be any reason for it to be."

"Huh. Well, he told me that you two were working on lyric writing from one of your classes, and that he had used his lyric book for your drafts."

"Well, knowing Jisung, he probably misplaced it somewhere in Misul." Misul was the Fine Arts building on campus, and it was the building that you and Jisung spent the most time in.

"Yeah, that sounds like him." Minho let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before smiling to you. "Well, just keep your eyes out, okay?"

"Will do." You said, giving a kind smile to Minho. With that, Minho left you to work on your studies, which you did at your own pace.

Lofi blasted through your earbuds as you worked on chord progressions and writing down intervals for tuning forks. By the time that you had decided to take a break, you looked up to see the time.

2:41 am.

Shit.

You couldn't help but let out a sigh, knowing that you weren't close to done with everything. And since it was a weekend, that meant it was all-nighter time. Again. But not before taking a break for yourself. After all, your brain could only handle so much.

And so, you got up from your chair and stretched, letting out a sigh and looking around your room for no reason. It was something you always did, probably just to take in your surroundings. Who knew? You certainly didn't.

But as you turned back to your desk, you couldn't help but notice a foreign notebook on your shelf. Black cover, silver spiral binds...that wasn't your notebook. You knew your notebooks, as you were really picky about what notebooks you used. It was normally Campus notebooks, or notebooks with covers you found cute. You never had such plain spiral bound notebooks. So it definitely wasn't yours. But it didn't take you long to realize who's it was.

That was Jisung's lyric book.

You stopped your stretch session, grabbing the notebook and looking at the cover. There was no doubt about it, that was his. The cover was slightly beaten up, which would make sense from how religiously Jisung used it. You flipped it over, taking note of the back being almost the exact same way.

And then, your curiosity starting whirling.

You couldn't help but wonder what lyrics Jisung had written. What thoughts were in his words. What stories he was trying to tell. You wanted to peek inside and read some of what he had written, so much so that you didn't realize your hand slowly lifting the front. cover.

That's when you stopped yourself for a second. This was wrong. A lyric book was practically the equivalent of a diary or journal. It was private thoughts. Hell, most of these lyrics probably wouldn't even be turned into songs. That's how it usually worked. Taking a peek into the book was a terrible idea.

But...it was late. Both Jisung and Minho were asleep, and there was no way that they'd know. The only one who would know that you peeked was you, so long as you kept your trap shut. Which you could definitely do.

And so, you opened the front cover.

For the most part, the songs inside showed a lot of different emotions. Some were directed towards his own mental state, others were directed toward confidence or hate from others. Something you took note of was how he had dated everything up in the top corner. Probably so he could look back at it way later and visit what he had written.

And then, you got to more recent dates. The previous encounters were still somewhat evident, but you also started to take notice of a new genre. You assumed romance, something you never thought you'd see Jisung exploiting in.

But here you were.

One of the first you came across was labelled "143". As you read through, you took note of the confusion evident inside of the song. It was still about love, but you interpreted it as more like someone falling in love, but not really understanding why. But there were definitely some lines that caught your attention.

I'm falling for your fatal attraction...

There are no words that describe the perfection...

Why do I keep getting attracted?

I'm drawn to you like a magnet...

I cannot explain this reaction, 1-4-3

I love you...

You couldn't help but raise a brow at the lyrics. What did he mean by that? This could potentially be reflecting on how he felt back when he first met Minho, and not really understanding why he was falling for him, but that didn't make sense.

Jisung was one to write what he was feeling in the moment, not reflecting on the past. That's why he literally carried this lyric book around with him all the time. And you knew for a fact that his feelings for Minho were irrefutable. So him questioning what he was feeling? That was recent.

But who was it for?

That's when you flipped to another song, one he decided to title "Want so BAD". At first, while reading the lyrics, you were almost certain that this was a love song for Minho. Knowing your friend, it wasn't impossible. But then, like before, a few lyrics caught your attention.

I think it's so sweet my baby...

So many thoughts keep me awake every night of you...

I know it's pain, but I really want it so bad...

Up and down, it's a breathtaking roller coaster ride...

Come closer, just the three of us...

Together, we make one whole romantic comedy movie...

I'll hold you tight and say I've always been waiting for this moment...

If I hold it any longer, I might just blow up...

For us, it's you...

That...definitely caught your attention.

For one, Jisung never referred to Minho as "my baby". Hell, you've never heard him refer to anyone as that. So that meant that this was someone new. Someone that you assumed him and Minho both liked, due to the use of mentions of "us" and "three" being used.

Slowly, pieces were being put together. Minho and Jisung found someone they both liked, and you assumed that they were planning on going Polyamorous with. But that left you with the single question of who it could be.

Minho had a lot of friends; you were well aware of that. But he only shared 7 friends with Jisung. You happened to know these people, too.

Chan and Changbin were Jisung's closest friends, as they were both going into the same thing as Jisung: Music Production. You had also met them when you were a freshman, and they were both really nice. But you knew Jisung never saw them as lovers. Neither did Minho.

Hyunjin and Felix were the two who had actually introduced Minho and Jisung, and Jisung had introduced you to them afterward. Hyunjin was going into Dance Performance, and Felix was going into Dance Choreography like Minho. And while they were both beautiful people, you knew that Jisung and Minho didn't see them as love interests either.

And Seungmin and Jeongin, who were going into Music Performance like you, were way too young in their eyes. They saw those two like little brothers. Then again, so did you. And that meant that...

No. No no, there was absolutely no way.

He wasn't...those lyrics...

Fuck.

||

After piecing together that the lyrics that Jisung had written were about you, you immediately took the lyric book out to the kitchen counter and put it underneath some other textbooks, took that melatonin diffuser, went to bed, woke up, and texted Hyunjin and Felix, asking if they'd be willing to go to the bar with you.

You needed a drink. Badly.

When they had texted you back that they'd be willing, you eagerly waited for the evening to roll around. Thankfully, both Jisung and Minho were out all day, going to spend time with each other out in Seoul. Which was good. Really good, mainly because you knew you'd probably combust on the spot if you looked at Jisung right now.

Once 7:00 pm rolled around, you got dressed in clothes that didn't make you look like you rolled out of bed and headed out the door.

Cut to now, with you sitting in between a very concerned Hyunjin and a very tipsy Felix, downing your...well, you don't really know how many shots you've had. You just know you've had a lot.

"Okay, don't you think you've had enough?" Hyunjin asked, watching as you and Felix cackled about some random sentence he had spouted. It was safe to say that you were both feeling the alcohol.

"No, I gotta drink more...'m fine!" Felix said, leaning against you. You just smiled at Hyunjin, patting his thigh.

"We're soooo good, Hyunnie...we're perfect!" You added. Hyunjin only sighed, looking to the bartender and nodding his head, silently asking for the bill.

"I think we need to get you home." Hyunjin told you.

"But I don' wanna! I...I can't go, not when they're there...they're gonna be all lovey dovey an' making me wish I was both of them..."

"Y/n, what--"

"'N they both like me...a-an' I like them, an' I shouldn' know that, but I do...!"

"Come on, let's go."

"NO!"

"Y/n..."

"No! No, don' wanna!"

"Don't make me call Jisung, because I will."

That got your drunk self really quiet. You just let out a huff, crossing your arms. Then, Hyunjin looked to Felix, who had just finished paying for the bill.

"I'm gonna call a taxi. You got it from here?" Hyunjin asked. Felix gave him a salute, going over to you and carefully putting your arm over his shoulder. With that, he gently lifted you off of your seat and guided you to the exit of the bar. Hyunjin was quick to follow, flagging down a taxi while Felix stood with you.

Soon enough, all of you were inside and driving to your apartment.

"I don' wanna go..." You whined, Hyunjin just rolling his eyes at you.

"Why?"

"Cause...I like 'em...an' I think they like me? But...idonknow..."

"Well of course they like you. They're your friends."

"Nononononononono, I think they like-like me...an' I really like 'em..."

"Okay, so?"

"So...idonknow what ta do about that...what would you do?"

"I'd probably see how it plays out? Or confess. If it seems like they like you like that, then you might as well let them know. Get it off your chest."

"...nah." You just crossed your arms, leaning against the now passed out Felix. Just as you did so, the driver had pulled up to your apartment complex, parking close to your building. Hyunjin got out, helping you get out as well and threw your arm over his shoulders, going to the driver's window.

"Just wait here, I'll be right back." Hyunjin instructed, the driver nodding. With that, you and Hyunjin started making your way up the stairs and towards your home. You didn't really try to fight him, since the alcohol in your system made you feel like you were moving in fast forward and slow motion at the same time.

But your drunk brain was absolutely dreading going and seeing Minho and Jisung again.

||

While you had been out with Hyunjin and Felix to drink your concerns away, Minho and Jisung returned to the house from their date day. Overall, it was a great day for the both of them. They went shopping, saw a movie, ran some errands, and went out to eat for dinner.

And when they returned to the house around 8:00 pm, they were a bit surprised to notice that you were missing. Then again, there were times that you went out for late errands or going to the convenience store for snacks or energy drinks. So they weren't really worried.

Instead, they both settled down on the couch, Jisung laying on Minho's chest, and started watching an anime series that you had actually recommended them. They had managed to get through the first few episodes, getting into the setting fairly quickly. But they were soon interrupted by a knock on the door.

"You weren't expecting anyone, were you?" Jisung asked, looking up at Minho as he sat them both up.

"No, not today." Minho said, pressing a kiss to Jisung's forehead. "I'll be right back, stay comfortable. Okay?"

"Okay." Jisung said with a smile, watching his lover get up and go to the door. And when Minho opened it, his eyes widened at the sight of you slung over Hyunjin's shoulder, barely able to hold yourself up.

"Delivery." Hyunjin said, gesturing over to you. Minho just raised a brow as he took you from him, confused.

"Do I wanna know?"

"She's drunk."

"No shit, she's drunk. Why?"

"She wanted to ignore her feelings. That's why."

"How much?"

"Lots of shots, three mixers. She's probably not gonna remember jack squat tomorrow."

"For the love of...Jisung!" Minho called out, turning to his boyfriend on the couch. Jisung immediately sprung up, looking over towards the door to see you, Minho, and Hyunjin. So it didn't take him long to go over to you all with concerned eyes.

"What happened to her?" He asked, Minho handing you to him.

"She went drinking, apparently."

"Without me?!"

"Dude." Hyunjin commented, raising a brow at Jisung.

"What? She usually doesn't go to bars without me." Jisung pouted, kicking at the floor.

"We can figure that out later, just--take her to her room, get her water, get her changed, and get her in bed." Minho instructed. Jisung nodded, knowing that Minho had a point. And so, he started walking you to your room and sat you down on your bed.

"There we go, nice and easy." Jisung said, steadying you before slowly backing away, giving you a kind smile. "Alright, I'll be right back, okay? I'm just gonna go and get you some water--"

"N-No..." You mumbled, reaching out for him. You managed to grab his wrist, keeping him from going any further than your arm length.

"Y/n...you're drunk. You need to sober up a bit, okay? I'm just going to the kitchen to get a glass of water, okay? I'll literally be gone for like, 30 seconds--"

"No! Y'gotta stay! Do-Don' leave, please..."

"Hey, I promise I'll be right back." Jisung told you, giving you a warmer smile than his usual kind one. He carefully peeled your hand off of his wrist, setting it down by your side. "If you let me go, I'll stay with you for the entire night. Deal?"

"M'kay." But it didn't stop your drunk self from pouting. It made Jisung's heart throb, making him feel like he was gonna explode from how you were acting like a child. In a cute way, mind you. But he had a mission to complete.

And so, after knowing that you'd stay put (partly because he didn't think you could even walk by yourself), he quickly went out to the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with some water before going back to your room.

Only to find you shirtless while trying to take your shorts off.

"Oh my god!" Jisung immediately flushed red, covering his eyes at the sight of your nearly naked body, turning around to give you some sort of privacy. "What are you doing?!"

"Gettin'...gettin' comfy womfy....hehe.." You giggled, Jisung just letting out a sigh before setting the cup down and straight to your closet.

He dug through it, finding a pretty big sweatshirt. All of your sweatshirts were oversized, but some didn't get to be quite long enough to hide undergarments. This one would, though.

"Okay, stop stop stop. Let me help you, please." Jisung said, getting your hands away from your shorts you had decided to wear. You stopped, staring at him with wide eyes as he quickly slipped the sweatshirt over your head, trying to keep his eyes off of your beautiful chest and gorgeous curves.

That wasn't his focus right now.

Once the sweatshirt was on, Jisung took hold of the shorts and carefully took them off, ignoring that your eyes were on him. And once that was done, he took the dirty clothes and threw them into the hamper, then grabbing the water and giving it to you. Though, he couldn't help that your eyes were still on him, having not left him once.

"Here, drink that." Jisung told you, watching as you sipped on the water. You let out a sigh, setting the cup down and looking to him again. It was hard to tell what you were thinking. To Jisung, it was already hard to tell, even more so when you had been drinking. "What?"

"You're...sooo pretty..." You told him. Your voice was so soft, which made Jisung's heart throb again. He gulped, not registering your hand that came close to his face, gently feeling his lips.

They were so soft. So plush. You always had a gut feeling that his lips would be that way, due to how pouty they always looked. But in your drunken state, they felt way better than you were expecting.

"You're really pretty. Pretty baby boy." You muttered, leaning forward a bit to look at him closer. Jisung just blushed more, leaning back a bit as drunk you leaned in closely, admiring his face. But he was caught on your words. Did you really think that, or were you just more gone than he thought?

"Um...t-thanks...?" Jisung trailed, almost in a daze. Why was his head spinning? Why was his heart going a thousand miles an hour? Why was his pants getting tighter?

You were drunk. You were drunk, you probably didn't mean half of the shit you were saying, and you certainly weren't meaning everything that you were doing. He wished you weren't, though, because that would mean he could act on his feelings. But that would be wrong if he did that while you were intoxicated. It wasn't right.

Until you got closer. Really close. So close, that if someone were to push either of you, you'd for sure end up kissing. You didn't seem to notice, which made sense. But Jisung sure as hell did. And it didn't help when you put both hands on his thigh, leaning on it to get to be that close.

"W-What are you doing?" Jisung asked, sounding hesitant. It was a good question, that was for damn sure. But you answered it. Just...not with words.

You placed your lips on his, instead.

Jisung's eyes widened, surprised by your actions. You didn't. Did you? He could feel the weight of your upper body, so it definitely wasn't a dream. So then, you were. You were kissing him. Shit. Fuck. What? But-how is he supposed to respond to that? You're drunk, but he wants to kiss back. But he can't because he'd feel like he'd be taking advantage of you. But your lips feel so good against his. They were soft, and they fit perfectly. Lord help him.

Thankfully, you pulled away, the cutest pout ever on your face. It made Jisung's heart wrench. God, what were you doing to him?

"D'ya not wanna kiss?" You asked softly. Jisung took a moment, the words taking a while to sink in, but it didn't take long for him to respond. To the best of his ability, anyway.

"I-I do, but you-and I--and we...but--MINHO!" Again, he tried his best. But in the end, he couldn't do much about the situation. He was too much in shock about what was going on. It didn't take long for Minho to come through the door, seeing both of you.

"What...?"

"She kissed me, and I wanna kiss her, but she's drunk, an-and--"

"Wait, slow down. What?" Minho looked between the two of you, only to see you trying to kiss Jisung again. Instead, you latched onto his neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. That only made Jisung whine.

"Min!" Jisung whined, looking to Minho. He didn't need to ask any more questions, instead going to you and moving you off of Jisung, and more onto him.

"You gotta be careful, y'know. It's pretty easy to turn Jisung on when you do stuff like that to him." Minho told you, pressing a kiss to your head.

"It is?"

"Yeah. Look at him, you can see his cock through his sweats." Minho was right. You could see the tent forming already. And to your drunk self, it was beyond hot.

"I wan' it in ma mouth."

"Y/N!" Jisung yelled, his face blushing as he moved to hide his boner. Minho just let out a sigh, looking over to your desk to spot that familiar purple box.

"Ji, why don't you go and grab that purple box over on her desk?" Minho asked, Jisung nodding. He quickly went to grab it, while Minho grabbed your water and held it to your mouth. "As for you, you really have to sober up, or your hangover's gonna beat your ass."

"Mm...but I wanna kiss you." You said, looking up at Minho. He just sighed, helping you drink your water while Jisung handed the box to him.

"Tell you what? If you finish this water, I'll kiss you." Minho told you. Oh, intoxicated you was so down. And so, you got right to work on your water, sipping quickly, but not to the point of chugging it. After all, you knew your limits. You knew that if you chugged the water, you'd definitely end up throwing up.

So it was slow and steady.

Soon enough, your water had been downed. You set the glass on the nightstand (You tried, it almost fell off and Jisung somehow managed to catch it), looking to Minho. He already had your melatonin diffuser out of it's box and ready to go for you to take it.

"Good girl." Minho told you, giving you a smile. He was honestly just happy to see you finish your water. You smiled at the praise, knowing what was coming next.

"Kiss?" You asked, Minho complying. He leaned down, placing his lips on yours. His lips were also soft and fit perfectly with yours. But unlike Jisung, who was completely frozen in shock by your actions, Minho took charge of the kiss, leading you through it. He knew what he wanted, and he made sure he got it.

Hot.

But the kiss didn't last long, as Minho pulled away, making you whine. That single sound you made hit both Minho and Jisung hard, going straight to their cocks. The only difference was that while Minho managed to hide the fact that your whine turned him on, Jisung just whined in response, looking to Minho.

"Min..." Jisung whimpered. He just sighed, not looking to Jisung. Instead, he placed the diffuser into your mouth. As if it were an instinct, you breathed in, taking a puff, before letting it out, feeling the coolness of the vapers hit your throat as they left your mouth.

"Go to the bedroom, strip, and wait for me. And you better not fucking touch yourself, or you're not cumming. Got it?" Minho then spoke. His eyes glanced to Jisung, the look alone sending a shiver down Jisung's back. But he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity.

And so, Jisung flew off the bed and went to his and Minho's room, awaiting what Minho had planned for him.

"As for you..." Minho said, looking down at you. You were leaning against his chest, still breathing in the melatonin diffuser, probably on your 4th puff. "How many hits do you have to take in order for the melatonin to kick in?"

"S-Seven, but 'm already tired...wanna cuddle..." You said, looking up at Minho with a pout. Minho smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Not tonight, okay? I can't keep Ji waiting for so long. Otherwise, he'll get into some trouble." Minho said, moving some hair out of your face. "But I can give you some cuddles tomorrow when you're going through your hangover."

"Fine, but you better keep your word, Minnie." You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. At this point, you were fighting sleep. You didn't want to go to sleep, but between the melatonin and the alcohol, you were pretty close to passing out. Course, Minho was also extremely comfortable.

"I will. Now, let's lay you down." Minho said gently. He helped you lay down so you were comfortable and pulled the blanket over you, placing a kiss onto your forehead. By the time he went back to look at you, you were out. Minho smiled, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You were so precious.

"Sleep tight, baby." Minho whispered to you. He left one last kiss on your forehead, not being able to help himself, before going over to his and Jisung's room, having some sexual frustrations that had to be let loose. Not to Minho's surprise, Jisung did too.

The second that Minho made it into their room, there was Jisung on the bed, completely naked on his hands and knees, looking behind him to meet Minho's dark stare.

"Min... need you..." Jisung whined, Minho smirking. He walked up to Jisung, placing his hands onto his ass and spreading his cheeks, admiring the way his cock jumped at the feeling of his hands, and his tight hole clench.

"Damn right, you do." Minho growled, leaning down and licking his hole. Jisung immediately gasped, his hips jerking back to get more friction. "Before I fuck you, you need to promise that you'll stay quiet."

"B-But why--"

"Y/n just fell asleep, and we both know she's gonna be in for it in the morning. I promise you can be loud some other time, but she needs to rest for now." Minho told him, carefully slipping his fingers into Jisung's ass. To his surprise, he was already stretched out and ready to go. "Jisung, did you--"

"I-I know, I know you said to not touch myself, but I was so desperate, an-and I wanted to be ready for your cock, Min... need it so bad, I--"

"Hm." Minho just sat up, keeping his fingers inside of Jisung, taking his own cock out of his pants. Jisung didn't know what that meant, but it got him both nervous and extremely excited. "I'll let it go this time. But next time, you do exactly what I tell you. That includes no prepping."

"Yeah! Yes, of course, 'm sorry, I just--it won't happen again, promise--" Instead of finishing, Jisung cut himself off with a long moan, Minho's hand going to cover his mouth as he pushed all the way into Jisung's tight ass.

"Remember, quiet." Minho told him. Jisung nodded, putting his hand over Minho's. And with that, Minho began to thrust, going at a pretty moderate pace. Enough to give pleasure to both, but not to the point where it was unbearably slow or ungodly fast.

It was just right.

Minho's brow furrowed at the feeling of Jisung clenching around him, his thighs tensing as he heard Jisung's muffled moans and whines. God, he loved Jisung's noises, but it was too risky to uncover his mouth. If there was anything Minho knew about his boyfriend, it was that Jisung was vocal.

"Good boy, nice and quiet for me. You're doing good." Minho told him, leaning down and kissing his neck. It only made Jisung moan out louder. Not that he could help it, as his neck was sensitive. "She really got you riled up, didn't she? Got your cock all hard, your mind all foggy. You even got to feel her soft lips on yours, didn't you?"

Jisung nodded, agreeing with Minho's words. He did, and he'd love to feel them again. They were addicting, those lips of yours. He wanted more of them. More of you. And Minho felt the exact same way. God, and that whine of yours...it wasn't even because you were horny or needy, it was just because you wanted to kiss Minho more.

If that's how you whined for something so simple, so minuscule, Minho couldn't help but think about how loud you could get if you were being fucked by him or Jisung. And those thoughts went straight to his dick, making that knot in his stomach grow quicker than ever.

"Shit, I'm not gonna last that long, baby. Y'gotta meet me there, stroke yourself." Minho instructed. Jisung instantly followed them, wrapping a hand around his raging cock and quickly stroking it, crying out at the stimulation. Judging by the way Jisung was squirming, Minho could tell that Jisung wasn't gonna last either. "Just-Just cum whenever, baby. Just let go, fuck, I'm gonna--oh, I'm cumming! Shit, I'm cumming!"

And like that, Minho released inside of Jisung, filling him up. The feeling of being so full was what did Jisung in, the boy practically wailing as he shot his load into his hand. Once Minho was sure that Jisung had released fully, he removed his hand from Jisung's mouth, only to be pulled into a kiss.

Their lips locked together, tongues dancing. Jisung was frantic, just like always. But there was also a sense of laziness to it. Minho was lazy too but was more precise. And when they parted, panting into each other's mouths, Jisung smiled, lifting his head up so he could touch Minho's forehead with his.

"Fuck, I love you so much, Min." He told him, Minho smiling at his words.

"I love you too, Ji." Minho replied, kissing his cheek before getting up so he could clean himself off. Jisung just laid, flipping to his back and waiting for him there on the bed.

As Minho stood in the bathroom, gently wiping his softened cock off and getting a warm rag for Jisung, he couldn't help but think about why you had even gone out drinking in the first place. Something about ignoring your feelings? What feelings could they have possibly been?

Jisung was quick to tell that Minho was thinking about it, seeing his brow furrowed in thought as he walked over and started wiping Jisung down. Jisung frowned, watching Minho carefully as he was cleaned, letting Minho take his hand to work on it after his cock had been fully cared for.

"You're thinking about something." Jisung pointed out. Minho sighed, setting the rag somewhere on the counter. When he got back to the bed, Jisung moved his head so his eyes would meet Minho's, giving him a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

"It's just...don't you find it weird that Y/n went drinking without telling us? Or inviting you?"

"Well, we were out on a date. Maybe she didn't want to bother us."

"But she never wants to drink out of nowhere. Let alone without you. Hell, I think the only time I've ever seen her drink was when you were with her. She would've waited, wouldn't she?"

"Maybe something was bothering her and she just needed a distraction? I don't know, it's not worth looking into. We shouldn't question her decisions, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know. But...then again, it's not like her to want to be so physical with us. Even when drunk. It just makes me wonder..."

"Wonder about what?"

"What if she does like us? I mean, why else would she really want to kiss both of us, and be so cuddly?"

"Well, I don't know. But I've never seen her so drunk. Maybe it's because she was wasted when she got back." Jisung just let out a sigh, shrugging. "Like I said, it doesn't make sense to question it right now. We're reading way too much into it."

"Are you sure?" Minho asked, Jisung nodding.

"Yeah. If there's anything I've learned, a drunk Y/n is a hard to read Y/n. It's difficult to tell what she's thinking, what she's feeling." Jisung said, smiling at Minho. He gently guided him up to lay next to him, placing his head onto his chest and relaxing against him. Feeling Jisung relax made Minho relax a bit too. "I think the first step is to see if she even remembers what happened tonight. If she does, we gently tread. If not, we just keep taking things slow."

"Wow, you sound just like me." Minho told Jisung. He just giggled as Minho placed a kiss onto his head, his smile not fading.

"Yeah, well, it's what you've been telling me to do for how long?" Jisung remarked, letting out a yawn. "Let's just focus on helping Y/n out through her hangover, and we'll go from there."

Minho just smiled, pulling Jisung close to him and closing his eyes. Jisung did the same, feeling the comfort and warmth radiating off of Minho.

"Sounds like a plan."

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part One | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

Tokyo was exactly as you remembered it. Both of your parents had been raised there, and so you had visited frequently when you were younger. You had fond memories of staying there with both sets of your grandparents before they had all, in turn, decided to move to calmer parts of the country, places which were not as frenetic and vibrant as the capital. After they had left, your family had had little reason to go back, so it had been some years since you had last made the trip, but in a way this move was just another kind of homecoming, for the chaos of the massive city was as familiar to you as the peace of your neighborhood.

“Everyone here talks like your parents,” Yayoi told you, the first day you both were able to meet up after you had moved. Your classes had not yet begun, but you were both finally unpacked and oriented in your new lives, so you had taken advantage of the last bits of free time you might have for a while to see one another. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Right?” you said. You had never fully adopted the accent of your home region, for you had been raised by a family which still spoke as if they were in Tokyo, but regardless it was strange to hear people other than your parents speaking in that way without affectation.

“Sometimes I end up saying the wrong thing and confusing people, but they figure out pretty quickly that it’s just the dialect I speak with, and then they ask for clarification if needed,” she said. “So I haven’t run into any major miscommunication problems yet, thankfully.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Are you excited to start classes?”

“Well, excited isn't exactly the word I’d use for it,” she said wryly. “Even if I’m the one who chose the subject, it’s still going to be a lot of work.”

“A ton of it,” you said, making a face. “You’re lucky, though. Your term doesn’t start for another week.”

“Well, it also ends a week later, so that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, sipping on the last few drops of her coffee — which she always ordered black, not because she liked it that way but because she was trying to keep up appearances and whatnot. “What about you?”

“I think classes and all will be a good distraction. It’ll be nice to have something to keep myself busy,” you said.

“What do you need to be distracted from?” she said.

“Just homesickness and stuff. The typical things you’d expect,” you said. She hummed sympathetically.

“I get it,” she said. “I miss my parents like crazy sometimes, especially when I need help with random stuff. The other day, I had to video call my mother so she could explain how to clean a cast iron pan.”

“You could’ve looked that up,” you said.

“Yeah, but it was nicer to hear it from her,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed, because it was the same for you. You often found yourself calling your parents for no reason at all, asking them stupid questions just to listen to them talk. “I’m glad to be on my own, but I do miss my mother and father a lot.”

“Anyone else?” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“Just wondering,” she said. “You know, come to think of it, you were kind of late coming to your seat. Freaked your parents out beyond belief. Any reason in particular?”

“I was just talking to Tabito,” you said. “Saying bye and all.”

“Are you going to miss him?” she prodded.

“Obviously. At this point, he’s like my brother, too. Isn’t it natural to miss your siblings?” you said.

“I don’t,” she said, though she immediately burst into laughter, which somewhat contradicted the statement.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “I know you do.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “But I think it’s in a different way than you do. It’s odd, because I’m the one who’s actually related to him, but the truth is that you two have always been closer than he and I ever were.”

“Probably because I’m not a jerk like you are,” you said.

“How can you consider yourself his additional older sister when you’re so nice to him? You need to bully him a bit more to earn that distinction,” she said.

“He hears enough of it out of you,” you said.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” she said, holding up her paper cup and raising it to her lips, though you knew it was empty by now. You clinked your own against hers and finished the last remnants of your drink in one gulp. “You know, Y/N, I think you’re irreplaceable at this point.”

“You, too,” you said. “I’ll never be friends with anyone the way I am with you.”

“Fuck whoever we meet in college,” she said, nodding in approval. “I’m sure they’ll be cool and all, but the two of us, we hardly even count as friends anymore. It’s like we’re something more.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I can have a million more best friends, and likely I will, but never again will I have another Yayoi Karasu.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said. “Not for a moment.”

Your first year of college flew past in the blink of an eye. On the whole, you preferred it to high school, even though there were aspects of the past you still held dear, seeped with nostalgia as they were. You made new friends, as did Yayoi, but just like you both had predicted, none of them measured up to each other. Still, it was fun to meet people from all different regions in the country and to hear about their lives. Some of your classmates weren’t even from Japan at all, and there was another layer of fascination there, learning about the ways of other nations, the cultures and foods they were accustomed to, and teaching them about your own in exchange.

Your mid term breaks were a bit shorter than Yayoi’s, which meant you weren’t ever able to justify visiting home, but in return, you had much longer in between years, so while Yayoi was still stressing over her finals, you were already taking the train back to the station by your house, texting your parents all the while.

In your absence, your childhood room had remained untouched, the stuffed animals arranged on your bed in the exact order you preferred, the books still stacked on the shelves, your artwork and photos of you with your friends hanging on the walls where you had put them. Time felt frozen, and it was as if you had never left, as if your entire year in Tokyo had been a dream and this had always been the reality.

After eating dinner with your parents, you showered and changed into one of your father’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, flopping face-first onto your bed and taking a deep breath, already feeling yourself nodding off despite the fact that it wasn’t that late. Traveling always exhausted you, however, and it was all you could do to turn your lights off and crawl under the covers, plugging your phone in to charge as you drifted off.

Right when you were about to fall asleep for good, your phone’s screen blazed to life, startling you awake as it vibrated urgently. Groaning and cursing whoever was calling you, you glared at the device until you realized exactly who it was, and then your unhappiness was promptly replaced with glee as you clicked on the green answer button.

“Tabito!” you said. Although you had texted with him every now and then, you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t spoken to him as much as you should’ve. You reasoned that he had had equal opportunity to reach out first and hadn’t, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a feeble excuse that was only meant to deflect the blame from yourself and nothing more.

“Y/N,” he said. His voice was deeper than you remembered, and more resonant, too, lilting with a husky, full-bodied musicality that hadn’t been there when you had left. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember — sorry, this is really stupid, so don’t feel bad for saying no,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve definitely seen you do way stupider things,” you said. He chuckled.

“You’re probably right. Here goes, then. Um, do you remember when you went to my first soccer game in middle school, and afterwards, we agreed you wouldn’t come to another until I was the captain of a really good high school team?” he said.

“I think so, why?” you said. A second later, it hit you, and you gasped, beaming so widely that your face ached. “No way! For Bambi Osaka? Since when?”

“Yup, for Bambi Osaka. The old captain just graduated, and he named me as his replacement today, so, uh, since today, I guess,” he said.

“I wish you would’ve told me in person so you could see how much I’m smiling right now,” you said. “Congratulations, Tabito! You can’t begin to know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Anyways, our first game is this Thursday, so…”

“Huh? Did you want me to come?” you said. “Yayoi won’t be back from Tokyo by then, though. Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“If you’d prefer that,” he said. “Or, I mean, you don’t have to go at all. I was just offering in case you were interested, but no hard feelings if not.”

Since when had he been so awkward with you? Since when had he stumbled over his words and been so unsure? You frowned at the mere chance that there was more than a physical distance between the two of you, even if it probably was the case, despite how much you had never wanted such an event to occur.

“As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I don’t have much else to do anyways, right? And how could I miss your first game as captain? Let me know where and when, and I’ll definitely come,” you said. He exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you there. I’ll let you know the details, but like I said, no pressure. Don’t force yourself. Come if you can.”

It was springtime, and the world was still remembering how to come alive, peeking out its head from the den of winter and blinking its sleepy eyes against the sun. There were not any flowers in bloom quite yet, but as far as the eye could see were buds on the precipice of rupturing, the pale undersides of their petals mere imitations of the hues they’d soon display proudly. The birds still warmed eggs in nests made of twigs and twine, but already there were cracks in a few of the creamy shells; here and there, even, little yellow beaks could be seen reaching towards the sky and chittering incessant demands at their parents.

You were lazy as you pedaled your bike down the side streets leading towards the field where the match was being held. It was an away game, technically, but this worked out better for you, as the high school they were playing at was closer to your house than the Bambi Osaka stadium, which was far enough that you would’ve needed to take a taxi.

According to Tabito, the game was actually more of a scrimmage, as they were playing a local school’s soccer club instead of another organization’s youth team, as they did in serious matches. Apparently, this was by design, as it gave their coach the opportunity to test Tabito's skills at being a captain in a low-stakes, low-pressure environment. If he proved himself incapable, the coach would override the previous captain’s pick and name another member of the team to the position, but if he played as well as he always did, and managed to coordinate the rest of the players in a satisfactory manner, then he’d be given the position permanently.

You had reminded him that this meant he technically wasn’t the captain yet, but to this he had said that he had the title and the armband, and if anything, since that was the situation, he needed you there more than ever. After all, he had explained, you had been in the audience when he had scored the winning goal in his first game for his middle school’s team. You were good luck for him. If you were in the crowd, then there was no way he could lose.

Parking your bike in the lot alongside the others, you locked it and then made your way towards the entrance to the stadium, the ticket Tabito had sent you in between your index and middle fingers. Even though there wouldn’t be very many people attending this game, it was Bambi Osaka’s policy to require tickets for entry to any of their matches, and the price if you weren’t associated with a player was, you heard, quite hefty.

You sat by yourself in the stands, your purse beside you and your legs crossed at the ankles. You couldn’t explain why, but there was a doubt in the back of your mind about whether you even belonged in the audience at all. Without Yayoi at your side, it felt like there was a neon sign in the air pointing at you and declaring you inept and unwelcome. Everyone else was buzzing with theories and predictions for the upcoming game, tossing out the names of the players and their opinions on them, but you were by yourself, without even a drink to warm your hands.

The gray of that isolation evaporated the moment that the Bambi Osaka boys took to the field, led by none other than Tabito. You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t just allowed to be there — you were wanted, genuinely wanted, and so you had as much if not more of a claim to your seat than anyone else could. Tabito had invited you. He could’ve invited anyone else in the entire city, but still he had invited you, and you would not tarnish that by thinking you were alone when he was there, as he always was.

As was to be expected, there was a complete difference to the way Tabito played when compared to that very first game of his which you had watched. For one, he was at the front of the field instead of in the middle, and there was an impertinence to the way he shook the hand of the opposing captain, an audacious smirk on his face which was visible even from the distance. This was a side of Tabito you weren’t so acquainted with, a side which was brazen and self-assured and stood as if he had already won before the referee even blew the whistle to begin.

The game moved faster than you could keep up with, and without Yayoi there to give you a play-by-play, you found yourself utterly lost about the finer details of the match. Still, even you could tell that Bambi Osaka was in the lead, and by no small margin — largely in part thanks to the combined skills of Tabito and a slender, pale-haired boy whose jersey read Hiori.

When Tabito was younger, there had been a desperate, vicious quality to his soccer, as if he really might die should he lose. It was in direct contrast to now, where he toyed with the opposite team in much the same way a cat would toy with a ball of yarn — with a distinct sense of superiority, like he was looking down on them even as he forced his way past, not giving them any other choice but to watch as he drove his way down the field.

“Is number 10 the new captain?” a boy behind you said. He sounded younger; maybe he had an older brother on one of the teams, or maybe he was just that supportive of Bambi Osaka. You didn’t turn, but you did tune into the conversation, wondering what they’d say about Tabito.

“Karasu? Yes, he is,” a slightly older boy said. “My brother said he’s a real asshole, but he’s a great guy when it counts. They’re all happy he’s the one who was recommended for the spot.”

“He’s so good,” the younger boy said. “And Hiori, as well. They’re both amazing.”

“Hiori’s only a first year, too. I bet he’s going to go far,” the older boy said. “Now shush, quit distracting me. I’m trying to watch the game.”

To no one’s surprise, Bambi Osaka won by a ridiculous amount of goals, and as Tabito shook hands with the school’s captain again, you noticed their coach nodding in approval, annotating something on his clipboard with a satisfied smile on his face. You waited until all of them had vanished into the locker rooms to head to the exit and wait by your bike for Tabito to join you.

About twenty minutes later, he and the rest of the team trickled out, discussing their game and the plans for the next one. At first it seemed like he had not noticed you, absorbed in conversation as he was, but it quickly became evident that he had, for he skillfully guided the others towards where you stood, never faltering in words nor steps until he reached you. Then he paused, schooling his expression into one of shock, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting as if he had happened upon you entirely by accident. It was an amusing bit of theatrics, albeit realistic to anyone who did not know his mannerisms as well as you did.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, all composed and airy and dispassionate, as if it were mere coincidence that the two of you had met at that moment, as if it hardly mattered to him that you were there. It might’ve fooled another person, but not once in his life had he been able to fool you, and he certainly wouldn’t start today.

He must’ve showered in the locker rooms, for his hair fell loose and silky around his face instead of styled back as it typically was, and when you hugged him — which was met a reflexive return of his arms around your body before he could even manage to yelp in surprise — you could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his soap which still clung to his skin.

“Hi,” you said, holding onto him for as long as you deemed publicly appropriate before wriggling free and smiling at him. “I think you did good. Without Yayoi, I couldn’t be sure, but to me you looked great.”

“Eh,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better. But thanks.”

“Woah, Karasu,” one of his teammates said. He was a tall and burly player who reminded you vaguely of Aoyama, and he accompanied the exclamation by wrapping one arm around Tabito in a friendly headlock and using his free hand to ruffle the boy’s damp hair, leaving him to resemble a sea urchin. “You didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful girlfriend! Hello, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me,” Tabito wheezed, slapping his teammate away. “You fuckface, I’m going to kill you. Don’t try to shake her hand!”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said, accepting his teammate’s proffered hand. “Just best friends with his older sister. You can think of me as a stand-in for her while she’s finishing up her first year in Tokyo. My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, you’re that Y/N!” he said.

“I believe I am? What does that mean?” you said.

“Nothing bad,” Tabito cut in. “Yayoi’s come to a few games and mentioned you, so everyone’s been wanting to meet you.”

“It’s true. I mean, a girl who refused to come to a game until and unless Karasu was made captain? We all thought you must be something intense,” his teammate said. “You seem pretty normal, though. And also super hot, if you don’t mind me mentioning.”

“Well, he’s the one who told me not to come, so if anyone’s intense, it’s him,” you said. “And, uh, thanks? I guess?”

“I mind you mentioning, so shut the hell up,” Tabito said, finally breaking free of his teammate’s hold and shoving him away from you. “Sorry about this one, Y/N. He’s incorrigible.”

His teammate laughed raucously. “My fault, my fault. Sorry, Karasu.”

“Say sorry to her,” Tabito said. “She’s the one you were bothering.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “Really, I don’t mind the compliment. Even if it could’ve been phrased better.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous lady,” his teammate said with a wink. “But, ah, considering I value my life and limbs, I think I’m going to head out now, as our new captain seems about a few seconds away from murdering me. See you around!”

He ran away to rejoin the rest of the Bambi Osaka boys as they all headed in their separate directions towards their homes, leaving you and Tabito alone once more. As soon as they were all gone, he sighed, that put-upon countenance he had maintained for the entirety of the conversation falling apart in an instant.

“I didn’t think he’d say all of that,” he said. “Sorry again.”

“You worry so much,” you said. “Come on, you just won another match, didn’t you? That’s cause to celebrate, so don’t look so tired and mopey.”

“I don’t look tired and mopey!” he defended. “This is just how my face is!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, unlocking your bike and beginning to walk it beside you so you could keep talking to him. “I seem to remember your face being quite a bit rounder and sunnier. Now you’re all angles and doom and gloom.”

“That’s not something I can help,” he said, taking your bike from you so he could walk it instead. “Y/N, you’re being mean. I haven’t seen you in so long and now you’re acting like Yayoi.”

“You think I’m acting like Yayoi? I’m hurt,” you said. “Okay, then, you sensitive captain. How about we go get ice cream? My treat, since you got the position and all.”

“Okay,” he said. “But it’ll be my treat, not yours, because you came to my game and stayed the whole time. It was your good luck that helped me in the end.”

“Offering to pay for me? I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll allow it this time. Anyways, I would’ve had to, because I just realized I left my wallet at home,” you said.

“Almost like you did that on purpose,” he mused, bumping your shoulder with his. “Was that your plan all along? Suggesting we get ice cream but forgetting to bring any money, so I had to cover for us both?”

“I see why your team members think you’re an asshole,” you said. “It’s a surprise, to be sure, but then again, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Who’s calling me an asshole?” he said. “How did you know that? I’m not! Whoever it is, they were making things up, because I’m — I’m super nice! Seriously, where did you hear that? Stop giggling and answer me!”

You extended your arm to run your fingers through his mussed up hair, smoothing it down as best as you could. “A magician never tells her secrets. Don’t worry about it and just tell me which flavor you’re getting.”

“The same as always, why?” he said.

“I want to decide whether I should steal some of it or not,” you said.

“You don’t have to steal it. I’ll share if you want some,” he said.

“It’s better if I’m doing something wrong. I think it adds to the flavor, or enhances it, or something,” you said. He considered this before nodding with the utmost of gravity.

“If that’s how it is, then you’re absolutely not allowed to even look at my ice cream. I’ll be, uh, super mad if you do,” he said, his glare so fearsome and dark that it skipped the realms of intimidation and landed squarely in the land of comedy.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“I do what I can,” he said. “Will you let me have some of yours?”

“Hm,” you said. “Fine, but only because I love you so much.”

He fought back a smile at that, staring directly ahead, the tendons of his hands flexing on the handlebars of your bike as you continued to walk along the empty sidewalk, the glowing sun in the distance a reminder of the many days exactly like this which you still had left to spend.

The break flew by so quickly it was almost more of a punishment than anything. About as soon as you had gotten settled back into a rhythm of spending your days with the Karasus and your evenings with your parents, it was time for you and Yayoi to return to Tokyo for your second year of college, as well as for Tabito to enter his final year of high school.

You took for granted that you would be back as soon as the first term ended, so when you boarded the train to Tokyo, you didn’t take the time to properly appreciate the place where you had grown up. The city where you had whiled away your idyllic childhood…you had considered it a guarantee that you’d return soon, so why would you linger? But a couple of weeks into your first term, you got news from your parents: your father’s job had, almost out of the blue, transferred him, and so they would be moving to nearby Kawasaki by the end of the month.

There was definitely a pro to having your parents at that distance — they were close enough that you could visit them whenever you wanted to, but far enough that you could justify not going if you were so inclined, and removed enough that your life still belonged to you and only you. Still, it was a little like having a rug pulled out from under you when you weren’t even aware you were standing on a rug in the first place; especially because you could not so much as help in the moving process, given that you were stuck at school and could make no excuse to go back home for such a long time.

The house they found in Kawasaki was in a good area, and though it was smaller than your old one, it was still airy and bright, with large windows and wooden floors and enough bedrooms that you could still have your own despite not living there full-time anymore. Your parents were actually glad for the reduced size, for it meant less emptiness, less cleaning to be done in places that never even got used or looked at.

When you went to visit during the first term break, it seemed like they really were happy there. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince you that this was for the best, that you should not be sad, but if that was so, then they shouldn’t have bothered. You were the one who had left first, who had gone to Tokyo to study and work. Of course it was more abrupt and final than you had wanted, but hadn’t this day always been looming on the horizon? Eventually, you would’ve stopped visiting so frequently, if at all. There was no reason to mourn the occurrence of an inevitability.

Besides the drama of your parents’ move, your second year was uneventful. You made even more friends than you had in your first year, and you still saw Yayoi as much as you could, although it was more difficult for the time being. Luckily, at this point you two had the kind of friendship wherein you picked up as if you had never been apart whenever you reunited, so you at least had that one constant in what sometimes felt like an ever-shifting life.

Around the time that your finals began, you received a text from Tabito, written in a formal language that was nothing like the messages full of abbreviations and emoticons that he generally sent you.

‘Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re doing well, and that your second year in university didn’t give you too much difficulty. I’m just reaching out to let you know that my graduation is next Friday. The ceremony starts at 6:30 in the evening, and I managed to reserve you a spot. The address and information is on the ticket — if you’re able to come, then I’d really appreciate it, but if not, then that’s totally okay. I just thought I should let you know.’

You stared at your phone, a sinking feeling in your stomach. No matter how much you wanted to go, you couldn’t. There were too many factors against it, and you felt horrible as you typed out your response. Any way you went about it came across as too harsh, but then again, was there even a gentle way to reject someone when they had come to you with something so important?

‘tabito!! i can’t believe you’re graduating already, wow!! i really would like to come, but i have a final that friday in the afternoon :( plus i don’t know if you heard or not but my family moved to kawasaki, so i wouldn’t really have anywhere to stay. thank you so much for inviting me though!! i’ll get yayoi to bring a cardboard cutout of me to put in my seat or something LOL. it’ll be just like the real thing!!!’

He responded almost immediately, and despite the effort he must’ve made to sound unaffected, he was obviously disappointed by the turn of events, his efforts at cheer only further highlighting that fact.

‘It’s okay, really! And thank you. Haha yes a Y/N cutout will have to be good enough then. Good luck on your final!’

The rest of the week, the unopened file from Tabito, which sat in your email inbox, tantalized you, and you found yourself obsessively checking the schedule of trains leaving Tokyo. There was one back to your hometown that would depart an hour after your exam was scheduled to end, and you refreshed it constantly, waiting to see if tickets would sell out. Once they were gone, it would give you an excuse not to buy them, but to your frustration, they never did.

You would have to run, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee you would make it, to the train or the graduation, but it was the best chance you had, and with every passing moment, it began to sound like more and more of a viable option.

On Thursday evening, when you once again checked the ticket site and noticed there were open seats, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from swearing, and then you entered your credit card information into the prompt. A minute later, you got a confirmation email, letting you know that your seat was booked for the next day. Burying your face in your hands, you inhaled deeply, vowing not to tell Tabito in case he got his hopes up for nothing. Breathing in and out through your nose once more, you straightened your back and opened up your textbook, returning to studying with a renewed vigor borne of the adrenaline rush which resulted from the impulsive decision.

If your professor found it odd that you came to the exam hall in formal clothes, with your hair done and an overnight bag over your shoulder, she did not say anything, only motioning for you to put your bag with the others and then handing you your paper.

Thankfully, you had studied through the year, and this exam was for one of your easier subjects, so it was a relative breeze. You finished with time to spare, leaving the hall with your things and walking to the train station without any worries except for what would happen once you reached your end destination.

The train ride was longer than you remembered, and by the time you were disembarking at the station closest to Tabito’s high school, it was already 6:00. You sprinted through the platform, calling out apologies as you ran into people or elbowed them out of the way, trying to get to the taxi area before anyone else could claim all of the available vehicles.

“Stop!” you shouted when the singular remaining taxi prepared to drive off to a different pick-up location. You must’ve looked a sight, chasing after a taxi by the train station, wearing a dress and heels, stumbling over your feet with your arm outstretched. “Hey, sir! Stop!”

By some miracle, he saw you through the rearview mirror and screeched to a halt. You opened the back door and dove in, scribbling down the address on a slip of paper and handing it to him, as was customary. Then, when he input the address into his GPS and accelerated onto the route, you leaned forward.

“Sir, I’ll tip you generously if you can get me there before 6:30,” you said.

“I will do my best, ma’am. Please hold on,” he said. That was all the warning you got before he stepped on the gas pedal, the car taking off at all but twice the speed of the surrounding traffic, leaving you to hold onto your seat as the scenery outside blurred into nothing but a smear of pinks and greens and browns.

He got you there at 6:27, which was too close for comfort but still earlier than should’ve been humanly possible, so you reached into your wallet and pulled out a wad of cash that was certainly more than you owed. Slapping it on the console, you mumbled out a thank you and ran off without waiting for a response, trying your best to remember the directions to the auditorium from the email Tabito had sent you.

“Do you have a ticket, miss?” the security guard waiting at the door to the auditorium said. You reached into your pocket and tried to unlock your phone; your slick fingers typed in the wrong password twice before it finally opened and you could brandish the file. He squinted at it before nodding and opening the door for you. “The ceremony has already begun, so please try not to make too much of a disturbance when you enter.”

Your shins and the balls of your feet ached from how much ground you had covered in your less-than-supportive footwear and the speed at which you had done so. Your shoulder, too, was sore under the strain of your bag, but you ignored these pains, counting down the rows and the seat numbers until you spotted the empty one that belonged to you. Squeezing past the others who had already taken their places, you collapsed in the cushioned chair, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw that, though the ceremony was already underway, Tabito was still yet to go.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Yayoi said absentmindedly, for your seat was naturally beside hers. Then, like she had realized what she had said, her jaw dropped. “Y/N? I thought you couldn’t come!”

“Shh, he’s about to go,” you said. “I’ll explain later.”

If you had hesitated for even a minute at any point, you would’ve missed it, but by the grace of some universal power, you had made it into your seat right as Tabito stepped up to take his diploma. He scanned the crowd, much in the same way he did when he was playing soccer, but sadly instead of sharply, like he was aware that he was about to be disappointed yet knew he had to experience that disappointment first-hand regardless.

His eyes slid over everyone in the audience dismissively, but when they landed upon you, they paused, and though it was too far for you to see, you fancied they must’ve widened the slightest bit. Not enough for anyone else to make anything of it, but enough for you to know.

For an instant, everyone else disappeared. In that auditorium, there was only Tabito on the stage and you in the audience, his diploma slack in his grasp, your breaths still fast and uneven. And although there was a distance, and no small one at that, between you and him, it was as if you were right by his side, as if you could see every single emotion which flickered across his face. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Then, finally, a sheer, childish thing which could only be called joy — unabashed and whole and candid joy. He smiled in the way he only did for you, not for anyone else in the entire world, not smug and haughty but shy and sincere, and you could not help but smile as well, raising your hand and waving at him like he always did at you.

He was taken aback, but obviously delighted, and so, as the principal announced his name and read off his accomplishments while with the school, Tabito ignored the praise and the applause, focusing solely on returning your wave with one of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he said, sweeping you into a hug as soon as you had all left the auditorium and he had reunited with his family. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yayoi said from where she was waiting at your side. “And Tabito, when you’re done showing your clearfavoritism, give me a high-five or something.”

He held onto you for a moment longer before letting go and high-fiving his sister, who was the only one that hadn’t been there for when Mr. and Mrs. Karasu, as well as Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother, had taken teary eyed photos with him. She had instead stayed with you, telling you that you owed her an explanation and then jumping to another topic of conversation before you could give her one.

“There was a train from Tokyo which left an hour after my exam window ended,” you said. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it, so I didn’t want to tell you in advance in case things didn’t work out. As it is, I had to bribe the taxi driver to get me here from the station at highly illegal speeds, and with that, I only made it to the front of the building by 6:27. Honestly, I still can’t believe I got there before you went at all, but I’m so glad I did.”

“Me, too. You’re right that I don’t normally like surprises, but this one, I was really happy about, so it’s an exception,” Tabito said. Now that he was no longer under obligation to hang around with Yayoi, he was back at your side, playing with the zipper of your bag in fascination while you spoke.

“Me, three,” Yayoi said. “He was seriously depressed that you weren’t coming. The house was like a toxic wasteland the entire week. It’s going to be much safer and cleaner now.”

“Toxic wasteland?” you said.

“Yup, and the toxic waste himself is right next to you, so be careful,” she said.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t like that,” Tabito said.

“Sure,” she said. “Yup. Totally wasn’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he whined.

“Do what?” Yayoi said.

“Try to embarrass me whenever you can!” he said.

“Not like it’s possible for me to embarrass you in front of Y/N out of everyone. You do that all on your own, so there’s no way I can make things worse,” she said.

“Yayoi!” he snapped.

“Onto more pressing subjects,” you interjected before things could worsen. “Um. I do have a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Tabito said.

“I kind of came here on a whim, so I don’t really have anywhere to sleep, exactly,” you said. The siblings exchanged looks before Yayoi rolled her eyes and Tabito grabbed your bag from you.

“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Yayoi said.

“For as long as you want,” Tabito added. “Or as long as you can, actually. That’s better. Don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“We can put your bags in the car, and then we have to take pictures,” Yayoi said.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to want to commemorate my graduation,” Tabito said. Yayoi snorted.

“Nah, I just want to commemorate Y/N’s wild journey from Tokyo, and the fact that she magically got here on time. I don’t ever want to forget about that,” she said.

“I’d be offended, but actually, I’m in agreement. I can’t believe you bribed a taxi driver for me,” Tabito said.

“Ah, well, you know,” you said. “I just told him I’d tip him if he could get me there on time, and he did it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said affectionately.

“Totally,” Yayoi agreed.

“And aren’t you grateful for it?” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist and throwing the other arm around Yayoi’s shoulders, causing her to shoot you a mock-dirty look before she made herself comfortable against you.

“Yes,” Tabito said, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he lowered them bashfully, that same smile lighting up his face at the sensation of your fingers dancing over his veins. “I really am.”

The world was quite determined not to split you and the Karasus apart for very long. You learned that night that, along with getting into a prestigious college, Tabito had also been selected to join the Japanese U-20 soccer team. In order to balance his academics — he could’ve quit school entirely by this point if he so chose, but he was far too paranoid to not have a second option should his soccer career not take off — with the new demands of the team, he would be living in Tokyo with one of his new teammates, a boy he had never met but was supposedly named something along the lines of Eita Otoya.

His new place was somewhat close to your apartment; close was a subjective word, of course, but to you, when the weather was nice and you were in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, it was a perfectly walkable distance, and you told him you’d definitely show him and Otoya around once they were moved in and had a moment to spare for such a frivolous outing.

Between his practices and the increase in his workload, it seemed like you really might never see Tabito at all, however close you might’ve now been to him physically. Yet somehow, on a warm day at the brink of summer, he texted you asking if the offer was still on the table, and if so, could you please show him and Otoya a place to get good coffee, because the stuff they made with their Keurig machine wasn’t cutting it anymore. You laughed, responding that you’d be delighted to, and that you were free all weekend, with no qualms about dedicating a day solely to them.

Your first impression of Eita Otoya was that, next to Tabito, he had a delicate and pointed appeal to his pretty features. He was smaller than Tabito, and although there wasn’t an ounce of menace in the way he stood, all inviting and open and casual, there was a wolflike canniness to his green irises, which glimmered when he noticed you approaching.

Before Otoya could even say anything, Tabito had covered his mouth with a hand, glaring down at him in a manner which did not seem to entirely be in jest.

“No way,” he said. “Flirt with whoever else you want, but she and Yayoi are off limits.”

Otoya held his hands up in the air, his voice muffled by Tabito’s palm when he spoke. “Got it, dude. Plenty of other fish in the sea, right?”

“For you, yeah,” Tabito said. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Tabito,” you said. “And you must be Otoya? It’s nice to meet you. Tabito’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Hopefully he’s only said good things,” Otoya said, shaking your hand, careful to keep a cordial distance between you two.

“On the contrary, I’ve been led to believe you’re the devil incarnate,” you said.

“Really?” Otoya said.

“No, of course not. He’s only ever spoken highly of you. I was just joking,” you said.

“That’s a relief,” Otoya said. “It’d be awkward if you had a bad impression of me before we’d even met.”

“Did you really think I’d complain about you to her? I’m kind of hurt,” Tabito said.

“Look, you never know! Maybe that’s how you get your aggression out,” Otoya said.

“It’s not. If I had any aggression, I’d just yell at you yourself. I definitely wouldn’t burden her with any of your hypothetical nonsense, not in a million years,” Tabito said.

“Woah, didn’t realize we had a gentleman here,” Otoya said with a snicker. “Okay, then. Thanks for not talking shit about me behind my back.”

“Anytime,” Tabito said.

“Are you two done yet?” you said. “I don’t want the place to close before we get a spot.”

“Is it nearby?” Otoya said. “As long as it’s close, it doesn’t even matter if it’s expensive. I just need something better than those shitty convenience store Keurig packets Tabito’s been getting for us.”

“That’s the best I’ve been able to bring home at the random times you text me telling me we’re out! Sorry I don’t stop by a damn café after every morning practice,” Tabito said.

“This guy,” Otoya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doesn’t understand the value of a good coffee one bit.”

“Not everyone has that touch,” you whispered back with a wink. “It’s alright. I won’t let you suffer any longer; the shop I’m taking you to is only a block away, and it’s relatively inexpensive — for the city, anyways. If you don’t know that it’s there, though, it’s easy to miss, so I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”

“My hero!” Otoya said. “Lead the way.”

You had discovered the small café entirely by accident during your first year in Tokyo. It was tucked away between a laundromat and a veterinary office, far from where one would expect a shop of its nature to be located, and although there was were always a couple of patrons scattered throughout the booths and tables, it was never bustling or crowded enough to take away from the cozy atmosphere.

Tabito held the door open for you, and consequently for Otoya, who followed after and inhaled deeply, clasping his hands together in awe.

“This is amazing,” he said. “L/N, you’re like an angel sent from heaven or something. I could fall to my knees and praise you with a sonnet right now, I’m that happy.”

“If you fall to your knees or do anything similarly stupid in front of her, I’ll show you why I made the U-20 team,” Tabito said, raising his leg in the air like he was threatening to kick Otoya.

“He was just joking around, Tabito, it’s not a big deal,” you said. Then, to Otoya: “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “I try my best. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Mostly it doesn’t,” Tabito muttered under his breath. “Tell me your order, Y/N, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks!” you said, listing off your favorites from the cafe’s menu for him. He wrote it down on his phone, lines of concentration etched into his brow as he painstakingly typed out the entire order before showing it to you to confirm that it was correct.

“Can you get me their seasonal drink?” Otoya said, sliding into the seat across from you and peering up at Tabito, who was entirely unamused by the act. “That floral-type latte. It sounds sick.”

“Get it yourself,” Tabito said.

“Why? You’re going to be up there, so just order and let me get to know dear Miss L/N here,” Otoya said. Tabito seemed conflicted, but you nodded reassuringly at him.

“Fine, but you — you know the deal,” he said, brandishing his pointer finger at Otoya. “Don’t you dare mess with her.”

“You got it,” Otoya said with a double-thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that, but he really does mean well,” you said, gazing after Tabito once he had stomped away to the counter.

“Been like what?” Otoya said. “An asshole? Ah, but I’m only saying it affectionately, so please don’t tell him I called him that, or else you’ll cause problems where there aren’t any.”

“He’s sweet at heart,” you said. “I know how he can seem to other people, especially at first, but I met him when he was four years old, so I guess I never really saw that side of him. He’s never been anything but kind to me. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“You’ve known Karasu for that long?” Otoya said.

“Yup. Like I said, I’m not denying that he’s abrasive most of the time, but he’s only being so protective because he cares about his sister and I so very much. Please don’t take it personally. He’s just that type of younger sibling,” you said.

“Younger sibling?” Otoya repeated. “That’s how you see him, huh? I get it now. If that’s how things are, then I won’t butt in.”

“That’s how they are,” you said. For some reason, this caused him to laugh at you, but it was pitying and mocking and not a sound you preferred to hear from anyone — most certainly not from a person you had only just met.

“It’s always so complicated in life, huh? That’s why I never really try too hard. Problems get worse the more you think about them,” he said. It hardly counted as an explanation, but for some reason, you were sure that that was all you were going to get out of him. “Oh, shit!”

“What happened?” you said as, abruptly and without warning, he shot to his feet,

“I was supposed to work on a group presentation today,” he said, running a hand through his hair with a groan. “They just texted to confirm that we’re meeting in the library in fifteen minutes.”

“Can you make it on time?” you said. He was already typing the address of his school’s library into his GPS, and the instant it loaded, he nodded at you.

“I’ve got it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to head out right about now, or else this crazy girl in my group will kill me. Tell Karasu I’ll send him the money for my drink, and that he can enjoy it on me,” he said. “Poor guy needs it, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’ll be too sweet for him, but I’ll pass along the message, sure,” you said.

“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d ask you for your number, but no matter how beautiful you are, I’m not willing to risk my living situation for you,” he said. “Karasu’s pretty cool, as far as roommates go. It could definitely be worse, so I’d really not like to lose him and end up with some weirdo who collects toenail clippings, just for flirting with the one girl that he declared off-limits.”

“His actual sister’s off-limits as well,” you reminded Otoya. “So that’s two.”

“He did say that, didn’t he? But you’re off-limits in a different way, and unless I want to end up like my own older sister, whose first-year roommate built a replica of the Taj Mahal from the hair she collected out of their drain, I’m going to respect that,” he said.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, too busy gagging at the mental image artwork he had just described to even question what else he was talking about. “Well, you should be off to your group project, then. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Otoya, but in case it’s not for a while, I’ll wish you luck with soccer and school now.”

“Thanks. The same to you, and I am eternally in your debt for showing me this place, so if you ever need something, let me know,” he said, scrambling hastily out of the café without bothering to push his chair back under the table.

Tabito returned a few seconds later, setting the tray of your drinks down on the table and taking his spot in the booth at your side. Handing you the cup that belonged to you, he sipped on his own and placed Otoya’s across from himself.

“Where’d Otoya go?” he said.

“He said something about working on a group project and left. Apparently, he’ll send you the money for the drink, and you’re free to do with it as you please,” you said. Tabito wrinkled his nose.

“He always gets such sweet shit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to drink that,” he said.

“That’s what I told him, but what other option is there? We can share so it isn’t wasted,” you said, taking a swig from Otoya’s flowery beverage. It wasn’t bad, and you had a little more before giving it to Tabito.

“Ugh,” he said. “Fine.”

He poked out his tongue, lapping up the tiniest droplet of coffee which lingered on the rim of the cup, and then he made a face, handing it back to you and then gulping down two mouthfuls of his own drink to wash out the taste.

“That bad?” you said.

“Tasted like shit,” he said. “I don’t know how the two of you can drink that kind of stuff regularly without gagging.”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be,” you said.

“I can literally feel my arteries clogging as we speak,” he said.

“Since when did you start speaking like an old man?” you said. “What boy your age talks about his arteries clogging?”

“Firstly, I’m trying to become a professional athlete, so I have to pay careful attention to things like my health, and secondly, we’re not that far apart in age. We have to worry about the same things, like jobs and grades and clogged arteries. Concerns of that nature,” he said.

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why’d you think I was referring to people my own age when I said old man, hm?” you said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “For your information, I doubt any of my own classmates would care about that shit yet, either. That was a distinctly middle-aged thing of you to say.”

“That makes me older than you,” he said. “If I’m middle-aged and you’re still all youthful and whatnot, that is. How do you feel about that age gap? It’s a little racy, don’t you think?”

You gave him an incredulous look. He couldn’t even maintain his straight face for more than a second, immediately losing composure and snorting at you.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“And you’re easy to tease,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“I’ll give it to you this once,” you said. “Next time, you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re all talk. I’m not scared one bit.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so adorable,” you said. “How am I supposed to stay mad when you look like you just watched a puppy die every time Yayoi yells at you?”

He scowled at you. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Or is that how you actually see me?”

“Hm,” you said. “Let’s finish our drinks. They don’t taste as good if they’ve sat for too long.”

Huffing in exasperation but knowing that you’d not go into more detail once you’d changed the subject, he finished off what was left of his order in one fell swoop, and then he snatched Otoya’s drink from your hands, tossing it into the trashcan before you could so much as blink.

“Aw,” you said. “I feel bad. That’s how we’re responding to Otoya’s act of goodwill?”

“Forget about his goodwill,” Tabito said. “It’s not like he did it because of how magnanimous he is or anything. He’s just a dumbass who forgot that he had prior commitments.”

“Nothing like you, of course,” you said. “You’re always on time, and you only ever order the best of drinks.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument — not that you would’ve argued with him, even if there was any cause to. Your father had always told you that generally, it was better to lose an argument than a loved one, and since the notion of losing Tabito was akin to a spear being driven into your heart, you did your best to avoid the chance of that frightful outcome ever occurring at all.

A few days before the end of the winter term, Yayoi called you in a flurrying panic. When you picked up, you were expecting her to be asking about the plans you had made for the road trip you two were taking, but it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth were ones you had never once heard from her, and you almost dropped your phone the moment she said them.

“Y/N, I need your help. There’s this guy—”

“What?” you said. “Since when? What’s his name? Where did you meet him, and how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is he handsome?”

“Oh my god, one question at a time!” she said. “Yes, he’s super handsome — actually, he’s a model, so it’s kind of a prerequisite. I’m telling you as it happens, so don’t think I’m keeping things from you! His name is Kenyu Yukimiya; he plays for the U-20 team with Tabito, and I met him when I went to one of their practices because I was bored. We spoke once, but I don’t think he remembers I exist, and even if he does, he probably considers me as nothing more than his teammate’s older sister.”

“Wait, U-20? Is he younger than us?” you said.

“Yes, he’s in Tabito’s year, though a couple of months older than him,” she said. “Do you think it’s weird? Oh, it’s totally weird, isn’t it? I’m a creep! I’m a stupid, ugly creep! Lock me away or turn me into the police or something!”

You cut her wailing off with a snicker. “Yayoi, relax. It’s not that weird, and I mean that honestly. It’s hardly even a two year difference, right? My own parents have a bigger age gap, and besides, you both are in pretty similar spots in life, so it shouldn’t be a problem, especially if he’s mature.”

“He seemed mature,” she said contemplatively. “He was super polite and kind when I spoke to him. Plus, unlike my stupid brother, he actually enjoys talking about the same things I do.”

“There you go, then,” you said. “You’re worrying for nothing. The only reason why anyone might say anything is because you’re older than him, but who cares about that? It’s a tired concept, the whole notion of the woman needing to be younger or smaller than her male partner or whatever. As long as he’s single and into you, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

“That’s what I actually called you to talk about!” Yayoi said. “You’ve had a boyfriend, so you know a little more than I do about this kind of thing. How am I supposed to get him to ask me out?”

“Just so you know, having had one boyfriend back in high school doesn’t exactly qualify me to give you advice,” you said. “Also, you can’t really get someone to ask you out. Why don’t you just go to another one of their practices and talk to him again once they’re done? If the conversation is flowing well, then you can ask him out yourself.”

“Um, that would be a great idea if I was brave enough to ask someone out,” she said. “Unfortunately, I definitely am not.”

“You don’t have to be all official and serious about it,” you said. “Don’t say you want to date or anything — ask him if he wants to hang out to continue the conversation at a later time, and then give him your number. That’s all. If he’s interested, he’ll call or text you to make plans, and if he’s not, then he won’t.”

“It’s that simple?” she said.

“I think it is,” you said. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience. Aoyama just asked me out. I never had to do anything.”

“Not all of us can be that lucky!” she said.

“Yeah, I get it. But I have confidence that you can pull it off! It’ll go great, and then you’ll actually be dating a model in Tokyo like you always said you would,” you said.

“Okay…” she said hesitantly. “Y/N?”

“Yayoi?” you said.

“Canyoucometothepracticewithme?” she said, all in one unintelligible breath. You furrowed your brow.

“Could you repeat that?” you said.

“Can you come to the practice with me?” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it without you pressuring me a bit.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. “Is it in the morning or evening?”

“They have evening practices on Tuesdays. I was thinking we could go to one of those? That’s what I did last time, so it’s an established thing, and anyways I don’t think I could wake up early enough to go to a morning practice,” she said.

“Okay, good, because I was kind of scared I’d have to be up before the sun. I’d do it for you, and in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it,” you said.

“I wouldn’t, either,” she said. “This Tuesday, then? We can have an early dinner or late snack together before heading over.”

“I won’t miss it,” you promised. “Make sure you wear something nice!”

After your Tuesday classes and errands were completed, you met Yayoi at a restaurant you both liked so that you could quickly eat before leaving for the practice. She was nervous the entire way, twirling the ends of her hair around her finger, straightening her already-perfect clothes, and chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” you said as the two of you entered the stadium and sat on the first row of benches. “Don’t stress out. If he’s an asshole, we’ll sic Tabito on him. I bet he could beat your crush in a fight, easily.”

“I don’t know,” Yayoi groaned. “Yukimiya’s super tall, and he looks pretty built, too. I think my baby brother might be outmatched.”

“No way,” you said loyally. “I’d bet on him over anyone.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “I wish I could have the same faith in him, but considering what a dumbass he typically is, I can’t say I can muster it up. Look, that’s Yukimiya. Still think Tabito’s got it in the bag?”

Discreetly, she pointed out a boy with wavy chestnut hair and an admittedly powerful build. He stood next to Otoya, which only threw it into further relief just how muscular and tall he was. Yayoi hadn’t been lying about that, and neither had she made up how good-looking he was; you could tell just from that first glance that he was heartbreakingly handsome.

“Well,” you said, realizing that maybe you had been a bit overconfident in Tabito’s abilities. But you were too stubborn to change your answer now, and besides, you believed in him no matter what, so you only shrugged. “Yes. Even if it looked like he’d lose for sure, I’d still pick him. There just isn’t anyone else I’d ever choose.”

“Damn,” Yayoi said. “Fine, then. If Yukimiya ends up being an asshole, we’ll see who wins.”

“Deal,” you said. “Although, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” she agreed.

The practice was long, dragging on past sunset, the field’s lights turning on to ward away the darkness as the moon crept higher into the sky. Yayoi, who had confessed that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, slumped against you and passed out almost immediately, and you busied yourself with a pattern of checking your phone and watching moths fly fruitlessly into the massive lamps.

Finally, the coach blew the whistle to signify the end of the practice, and as the players exited the field, walking past where you were conveniently seated, right by the joint entrance-exit, you shook Yayoi.

“There’s no way you’re in this deep of a sleep,” you hissed at her unmoving form.

“Y/N?” It was not Yayoi but someone else who said your name; namely, Tabito, who had paused in front of you and Yayoi to gaze at you questioningly. “Why are you at my practice?”

“Not now, Tabito,” you said dismissively. Noticing that Otoya and, more importantly, Yukimiya, flanked him, you doubled down on your efforts to wake Yayoi, who remained unresponsive. “You bitch. I bet you’re just pretending to sleep so you don’t have to go through with the plan.”

“Hey, L/N! It’s been a bit,” Otoya said. “I’ve been visiting the place you showed us almost daily. It’s wicked good. You’re the best for bringing us there.”

“Hi, Otoya,” you said. “Sure, anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Yayoi, if you won’t get up, I’ll just do it myself.”

Without waiting for her to respond, you stood up and bowed slightly at Yukimiya, who seemed entirely bemused by your odd actions. He glanced at both Otoya and Tabito for help, but neither of them had any clue what you were doing, either, so they could offer no assistance to him on that front.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Kenyu Yukimiya?” you said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said. He had a pretty manner of speech, proper and refined, each word spoken with careful control. “Who might you be?”

“Y/N L/N, but that’s unimportant,” you said. “That’s Yayoi Karasu. She’s Tabito’s barely-older sister. You should talk to her.”

“Y/N!” Yayoi screeched, shooting up to a sitting position. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

“What is going on here?” Tabito said. Otoya shrugged, clearly lost as well.

“So you were faking it the entire time! Never in my life have I met a bigger coward,” you said, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“Yayoi Karasu?” Yukimiya said. “Oh, I know you! You were here last week, right? We talked about Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

“That’s right! You, uh, remembered that?” Yayoi said. He beamed at her.

“How could I not? The movie is one of my favorites, and none of these guys like it, so it was great to meet someone else who’s seen it so many times,” Yukimiya said.

“Y/N,” Tabito whispered, sidling over to you, the tip of his sharp nose brushing against the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“Depends,” you whispered back. “If you think this is your sister having a crush on your soccer teammate, then yeah, it is. Otherwise, no.”

“That’s gross,” Tabito said, horror twisting his features. “Yayoi and Yuki? No way. You have to be joking.”

“Why not? Because he’s younger than her? It’s only two years. That’s nothing,” you said. “You should be more supportive.”

“No,” he said, a peculiar edge to his voice. “No, I don’t — I don’t care about that part. I thought you might, but I don’t at all.”

“Huh? Why would I?” you said. “If they’re both interested in each other, and they make each other happy, that’s all that matters. We’re adults, so a few years here and there is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“What about you? Would you ever do it?” he said, breathless and impatient, clenching the hem of your shirt in one fist.

“Date someone younger than me? I’m not sure. I’ve never really considered it; you’re the only one younger than me that I regularly interact with, and, well, you know. There’s a special consideration there. Why? Got a teammate you want to set me up with or something?” you said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, stepping away from you and scowling. “I’d never ever ever let one of those mediocre fucking idiots anywhere near you.”

“Just a hypothetical question, then? I suppose there’s no harm in that kind of thing every now and again. Was my response alright?” you said.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” he said tiredly. “It’s what you think, so obviously it’s fine. I should go now. I don’t want to keep Otoya waiting; he’ll get pissy and annoying if I do.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Tabito! Let me know if you’re free sometime. I feel like I never see you, even though we’re all but neighbors. We should do something,” you said. The strange tone of the conversation had left you reeling, and you scrambled for something that would make it better, would chase away the anxiety constricting your lungs like a vice.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. It was a dull attempt at sounding excited, and for a brief, striking instant, you wanted to reach out and beg him to wait one second more. You wanted to apologize, though you knew not what you had even done. You wanted him to stay until he smiled at you again, the way he usually did, and then you wanted to — you wanted to — you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure what you would do after that, but you would do something, hold his hand or embrace him or something.

Yet instead, you did nothing, watching as he rejoined Otoya and entered the locker room without a backwards glance, leaving you standing by yourself in the bleachers, your heart hammering in your chest like a crow with clipped wings, thrashing against the bars of its steel cage in a futile attempt to escape.

“Can you believe it?” Yayoi said later. “He asked me out first! I didn’t even have to do anything!”

“Congratulations,” you said, as genuinely as you could. “I’m really happy for you, Yayoi. Fingers crossed that it all works out well. I’m sure it will; he seems like a really great guy, and you both were talking for a while, so you’re clearly compatible.”

“Thanks, I think so too!” she said before narrowing her eyes at you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. She was so happy that you could not bear the thought of burdening her with your problems, especially when they weren’t even problems in the first place. Yayoi was having none of it, though, frowning at you.

“You can tell me,” she said. You shook your head, so she poked you in the forehead. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

She punctuated each utterance of the refrain with another poke, until finally you batted her hand away in exasperation “It really is nothing. I just think I did something to upset Tabito — don’t ask me what, because I don’t know — and it’s making me feel a bit out of sorts.”

“He’ll get over it. Why’re you worried? This isn’t unusual. He’s mad at me half of the time. If I felt out of sorts every time he threw a tantrum about something, I’d never feel in sorts,” she said.

“But he hardly ever gets mad at me,” you said.

“Right,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I forgot the two of you were like that. Hm. I still think you shouldn’t worry too much. If he’s actually mad, which I honestly doubt, then he’ll get over it quickly enough. He’s not capable of staying angry at you for any length of time.”

“If you say so,” you said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We need to celebrate you finally saying yes to a guy that asked you out!”

Yayoi blushed but nodded. “Should we go for drinks?”

“It is a Tuesday,” you reminded her.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“It’s a yes,” you said.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” she said.

“Just for that, you’re covering the tab,” you said. She winked at you.

“Already planning on it!”

The end of your time at university came almost as soon as the beginning had. It was bizarre, walking out of the familiar exam hall for the final time — you knew you had passed, and you already had a job lined up for you in a month’s time, so there wasn’t any cause to worry, and indeed you did not. You only felt odd and light, as if you were floating through the streets of Tokyo, ephemeral like an aluminum wrapper bouncing down the pavement in the wind.

Neither Yayoi nor Tabito could attend your graduation ceremony which was held that Friday; Yayoi had fallen deathly ill, so you had enlisted Yukimiya in keeping her at home, lest she sneak out and kill herself by trying to support you, and as for Tabito, he happened to have a final exam held at exactly the time of the ceremony, which meant he was automatically excluded from attending.

Your parents, as well as both sets of your grandparents, were in the audience, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t help yourself from searching for the Karasus, for Tabito in particular, but no matter how hard you searched, it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. He wasn’t there.

When the president of your college, a portly woman with pin-curled hair and red lipstick, handed you your degree, you were hesitant in taking it. Your smile plastered on, you stared towards the door as your fingers inched towards the fancy paper. Any moment now. He’d burst through the door the way you had, and he’d see you, and he’d smile and then wave — it was like a tradition at this point, wasn’t it? It had to happen. He had to come. You knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop a foolish anticipation from brewing in you as you waited.

Your hands reached the certificate. You held it in front of you as the cameras went off, finally turning away from the door and grinning wider, resolving not to let it ruin your mood. After all, you had worked so hard to achieve this. Why did it matter who was in the audience? It could be an audience of none, and you’d still be happy. You’d still be proud, for no other reason than because you had done it, because all of your hours of studying and classes and homework had finally paid off.

You ate dinner with your family, and then you were invited to go out to a nearby bar by a few of your college friends. Seeing your parents and grandparents to the train station, you rushed back to your apartment to get ready for the night, entirely ready to let loose after what felt like several years’ worth of burdens had just been knocked from your shoulders.

The bar was packed with students from your school, all of whom had had much the same idea as you and your friends. The bartenders were rushing back and forth, sliding drinks out with as much speed as was humanly possible, and before long you were sipping on something fizzy and fruity that one of your friends had handed you.

At some point, one of your classmates, a boy who you had never known particularly well but recognized for his distinctive voice, which could be heard from all corners of the city when he got to bragging about his father’s salary, announced that the rest of the night’s drinks were on him. If you were his father, you’d be furious at the offer, but as you weren’t his father, you took advantage of it with impudence, downing glass after glass of whatever the bartender gave you.

Soon enough, the music and lighting, which you had found so charming and delightful earlier, began to pound at your head. The world spun, not unpleasantly but still in a disorienting manner, and you stumbled towards the door, pulling out your phone and singing to yourself as you decided who you wanted to call.

The cool air of the night was refreshing against your face, and you leaned against the brick wall of the establishment as you squinted at the blinding light of your phone’s screen. You could barely make out the dark characters which stood out on the white background, and eventually you gave up, switching to the keypad and using muscle memory to type in the number your fingers had long ago memorized.

He didn’t pick up until the last ring, and his voice was groggy when he spoke. In the back of your mind, you felt guilty, for you recognized that he must’ve been sleeping, but for the most part you were far too elated to hear him speaking, so you could not bring yourself to be too sorry.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Tabito,” you said, your words slurring together, dragging out at the ends and trailing into soft breaths. “Tabito, you didn’t come to my graduation.”

He sounded a lot more alert when he spoke next, but he did not change the volume of his voice from that low murmur any. “I told you I couldn’t. I had an exam, remember?”

You sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said. “You know I would’ve been there if I could’ve.”

“Can you come now?” you said, your lower lip trembling.

“Come where?” he said. There was a muffled sound that you assumed was him rolling out of his bed, and then the soft padding noise of his footsteps.

“The bar,” you said. At this point, irrational tears were welling in your eyes. You weren’t even sad, but you couldn’t stop them from rolling down your cheeks, leaving scalding trails in their wake.

“Are you out with your friends? Why do you want me there? Aren’t you celebrating?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, and then you were hiccuping as you cried in earnest. “I don’t know, Tabito, I just want you to be here.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed you. “I just left my apartment. Is it the bar you and Yayoi like to go to? The one by the grocery store?”

“Yes,” you said.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound good?” he said.

“Mhm,” you said. “Are you going really fast? Tabito, you play soccer, right?”

“I do play soccer,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and concerned. “You come to watch my games sometimes. I like when you do that.”

“That means you must be fast,” you said. “Mega fast. Mega extra fast.”

“I’m only a little fast. Most of my teammates are faster,” he said.

“Ah,” you said. “But will you still be here super soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be there super soon,” he promised.

“Can you talk on the phone and walk at the same time?” you asked him.

“Well, I’m doing it at the moment, so yes, I’d assume so. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Isn’t that illegal?” you said.

“No, that’s for when you’re driving,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“I take the train or walk most places, so I don’t even have the opportunity to,” he said.

“But if you had to drive, you wouldn’t, right? Right, right?” you said.

“Right,” he said. “I’m just around the corner, so I’m going to hang up. Are you outside?”

“Next to the door,” you said.

“Don’t move,” he instructed you, and then he ended the call.

Before you could begin to wail about the abandonment, he was rounding the corner, looking so haphazard that, had you any more presence of mind, you’d have made fun of him for it. His hair stuck up in every which direction, like it had when he was younger and didn’t know how to style it, and he wore nothing but a random t-shirt thrown over a pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet shoved into the black Crocs that Yayoi had bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

“Y/N! There you are,” he said, his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled you into his arms. “Look, I’m with you now. Are you happy?”

You giggled. The world still rotated on an unidentifiable axis, but the firmness of Tabito’s grip had a kind of stabilizing effect, holding you in place and together and in one piece.

“Hi, baby,” you said. “Yes. So happy.”

“Baby?” he repeated, and based on the way his skin warmed, he must’ve been blushing.

“Look,” you said, reaching up so that you could play with the ends of his hair. “It’s like when you were a baby. When you were just little baby Tabito. That’s when I met you, you know.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a distinct yet inexplicable despondency to the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you want to go home now?”

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he said, so patiently and tenderly that your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier with every word he spoke. “I’ll stay with you either way, but I think we should probably head back. How much have you had to drink?”

“Um…” you tried to recount what you had ingested, but it was all a blur. “I don’t remember.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Let’s go home, then. You definitely shouldn’t have any more. Will you be alright if I go inside and tell your friends I’m taking you back?”

“Do you have to?” you said, catching his sleeve and holding it in between your hands. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“They’ll worry about you,” he said, prying your fingers off with the utmost of delicacy. “If you leave without letting them know, they might think something bad happened. I’ll explain what’s going on so they aren’t scared, and then we can head out. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm,” you said. “Only because you say so.”

He chuckled slightly. “That’s good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You counted the seconds that he was gone, and before you reached the seventy-fifth, he was already back, his face flushed from the heat of the bar, his hair even wilder than earlier from the sweat and the humidity, a dusty footprint on his right shoe where someone must’ve accidentally stepped on him.

“I was expecting to have to convince them to let you go with me, but they were all alright with it,” he said, carefully taking your hand and leading you in the direction of the apartment.

“Sure they were,” you said, tripping over a loose stone, only avoiding face-planting because Tabito caught you with the reflexes of an athlete. “It’s because I talk about you so much.”

“Do you?” he said.

“Totally,” you said with a yawn. “All of my friends know about you and your soccer and your studies. I’m just soooo proud of you, so I mention it whenever you do something cool. Isn’t that what a normal elder-sister-figure would do?”

“Yayoi doesn’t,” he said.

“Yayoi is Yayoi,” you said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “And it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Can you carry me?” you said when you almost stumbled and fell for the second time. “Tabito, it’s hard to walk, so can I please ride on your back the rest of the way?”

He exhaled but crouched, beckoning you forward. “If you really want.”

“Yay!” you said, leaping onto his broad back and clinging to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he supported you while continuing to walk. “You’re so big now. When did that happen? Have you always been like this? It’s almost as if you’re nearer to being a man than a child, but that’s impossible. You’re still young, aren’t you?”

“It’s not impossible; in fact, it’s the truth,” he said. “If only you ever looked at me and saw me for who I am, you’d have realized I’ve been like this for quite a while now.”

“What do you mean?” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes, allowing the rhythm of his walk to lull you into a trance.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. We’re almost there. Are your keys in your purse?”

“Yup,” you said. “D’you want them now?”

“I’ll get them from you once we’re at the door,” he said. “Good thing you don’t have a roommate; I’m sure they’d be pissed off by you coming back so late, drunk out of your mind and with a random guy in tow.”

“You’re not a random guy,” you said, dropping the key to the complex in his waiting hand once the two of you reached the glass gate to the building. “If I had a roommate, they’d definitely know who you are. How could they not? You’re my Tabito.”

“Since when I have been your Tabito?” he said, unlocking the door and flicking your chin up playfully before returning his hand to holding up your leg. “I don’t think that I am.”

“Since always,” you said.

“Really? And does that mean you’re my Y/N?” he said, bending down so you could press the elevator button to take you to your floor.

“Yes,” you said. “For six years I did not know it, but ever since then I have been yours.”

“Well,” he said. “Is that how it is?”

“It is,” you said. He switched the lights in your apartment on and deposited you on the couch, heading to your kitchen and filling up a glass with water. Handing it to you, he sat at your side, bringing it to your lips so you could drink, not taking it away until you had drained the cup.

“Feeling better?” he said. “I’ll get you some crackers to eat.”

“Much better,” you said, chewing on the crackers while laying your head on his shoulder. “My stomach isn’t so queasy, and my vision is a lot more straight.”

“You’re talking more normally, too,” he noted. “At least, you sound a bit comprehensible. Want more water?”

“No,” you said. “I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Here?” he said. “How about you change into your pajamas and wash your face first?”

“I’m too tired,” you said, yawning yet again to emphasize the point, nuzzling your face against the curve of his neck, your eyelashes crushing against his throat. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting you atop the head. “But you’ll feel horrible tomorrow morning if you don’t get in bed properly.”

“I’ll feel horrible either way,” you said. “I can’t do anything. We were partying for so long, and now I’m exhausted.”

“That’s true, but you’ll feel worse if you sleep here instead of in your room,” he said. “How about I help you?”

“You’ll help me?” you said.

“If you change your clothes, I’ll do everything else,” he promised, gently pushing you off of him and then standing so he could help you to your feet. “I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow, be all cramped up from sleeping in a weird spot, and get a break out on top of that.”

“I guess that’s fine,” you said with a dramatic exhale. “You’re so…so…what’s the word? You’re so persistent. Stubborn. Something like that.”

“People say that a lot,” he said.

“They call you an asshole a lot, too,” you said. “All of the time.”

“Yes,” he said, walking with you to your room, where your pajamas were folded at the foot of your bed. “I think I am one, at least a little bit. It’s impossible for me to be otherwise around mediocre people. I try to fix it, but it’s hard, you know.”

“I don’t think you are,” you said. “You’re the nicest person in the whole entire world. If you were an asshole, you wouldn’t treat me the way you do, but you do, which means you aren’t.”

“That’s because you’re special,” he said after a pause. “To me. And also in general.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, but when you turned around, he had shut the door between you two, allowing you to change your clothes and him to avoid the question.

Only the thought of disappointing Tabito was enough to convince you to not collapse onto your inviting bed. Instead, you trudged towards the door, opening it and pouting at him, trying to beg with your eyes for him to allow you to go to sleep.

“Good job,” he said, ignoring your silent pleas and dragging you to the bathroom, where he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. “Is this your makeup remover?”

He showed you the little tub of cold cream you kept next to your sink. You mumbled something generally affirmative, and he unscrewed it, kneeling beside you and massaging it onto your face, paying extra attention to your eyes, which was where most of your makeup was concentrated.

“Who taught you about all of this stuff?” you said, your eyes screwed shut as he used a clean, wet washcloth to remove the cleanser from your skin. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“No girlfriends, secret or otherwise,” he said. “It’s all stuff Yayoi made me learn on pain of death. She refused to have a brother who didn’t know anything about proper skincare. It’s not like I do it all that much, but I’m aware of it thanks to her.”

“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” you said. You supposed you had always been aware of that, but you had never really comprehended what it meant. How could it be that Tabito Karasu of all people had never even gone on a date?

“Nope,” he said. “Can I use this moisturizer on you? I’m sure you have a better routine normally, but it’ll probably be for the best if we skip steps for the sake of getting this done quickly.”

You cracked your eyes open and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Why?”

“Why what?” he said. The lotion was cold at first, but the circular motions of his fingers on your cheeks warmed it quickly enough that you didn’t even have time to be shocked by the temperature. It was soothing, a tingly sensation washing over you as he worked.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” you said, his fingertips gliding over your forehead.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he said. “Or, no, that’s not it. I have found them. I found them a long time ago, but I don’t — I don’t think they wanted to be found. Not by me.”

“That can’t be true,” you said. “What kind of person wouldn’t want you? Who are you talking about, anyways?”

His thumb swiped over your lips, once and then twice, before coming to rest where they slightly parted. You waited, thinking he might move it, but he did not.

“What will it take?” he said. “For you to stop thinking of me as a child. What more can I do? Name it and I will. If it means you’ll stop thinking of me as your little brother, then I’ll do anything.”

“How else would I think of you?” you said. “You are like my—”

“Please,” he said, and it had been so very many years since you had heard him so distraught that you quieted immediately. “Please stop it. I don’t think of you like that, I don’t love you like that, so please stop it.”

Before you could respond, his mouth replaced his thumb against your own, and he was kissing you, cradling your head in his hands, his ardor winning out over his inexperience as he tried to impress upon you just how much he had wanted you, and for how long.

Unfathomably and without even realizing, you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying every demand he made of you and responding to them each in kind. Your hands wound around his neck and tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the silky, feathery strands, drawing a small whimper out of him as he wedged himself impossibly closer to you. Yet the sound broke you out of whatever daze you had fallen into, so, with a gasp, you ripped yourself away from him, resting your forehead at the dip of his collarbone as you tried to catch your breath.

“No,” you said. “No, I shouldn’t have — we shouldn’t have — you have to go.”

“Why not?” he said. “You said you shouldn’t have, but you did. Why do you wish you hadn’t?”

“You have to leave,” you said, and then you were crying again, soaking his shirt with your tears as the weight of what you had done began to smother you.

“Let go of me first,” he said. Your fingers, still in his hair, flexed but did not loosen. “Y/N. If you really want me to go, I’ll go, but you have to — you have to let go of me first. You have to be the one to do it.”

You wept harder, because you did not know how to let go of him, because you could not fathom doing it, but neither did you want him to let you go first. It was shameful and wrong, but the truth was that, more than anything, you wished for him to stay, to blot away your tears and lay you in your bed so you could sleep the entire night away.

Somehow, you found the strength in you to yank yourself away from him, all in one go. The moment they left him, it was as if your fingertips themselves mourned, aching to return to their rightful place, but instead of obliging, you used them to cover your eyes. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid seeing the anguished expression that most certainly marred his features. Anything to avoid knowing that you were the one who had caused it.

You didn’t look up again until you heard the front door close, and then it was all you could do to turn off the bathroom lights and make it to your bed, crashing into the pillows and somehow managing to fall asleep.

As soon as Yayoi was feeling back to her usual self, you sent her a cryptic text essentially commanding her to meet you at your usual spot for food whenever she could. Thankfully, she recognized when you were having an actual problem versus when you just missed her, and she told you she was free that very evening, so you didn’t have to simmer in your thoughts for any longer than you already had.

“Your brother kissed me,” you said when you sat down across from her.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, closing her menu and setting it to the side. She had only even looked at it as a formality; both of you ordered the same thing every time, so opening the menu was meaningless at this point.

“Hello, Yayoi,” you said. “Tabito kissed me.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” she guessed.

“Yes,” you said. “It happened the other night. I would’ve called you earlier, but you were sick, so I didn’t want to.”

“Alright. It’s a little awkward for me, considering he’s my brother and all, but I’ll set aside my biases and do my best. How do you feel right now?”

“I have no idea. How do you feel?” you said, perplexed by the lack of reaction she was displaying.

“Why would I feel anything?” she said.

“Because? Your best friend just told you that your little brother kissed her? Aren’t you mad?” you said.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m surprised it took him this long, honestly. Everyone knows he’s been in love with you for ages.”

“Everyone?” you said.

“Everyone,” she agreed. “Most of our friends, all of my family, both of your parents…he hasn’t really tried too hard to hide it. I’m pretty sure most of them think you like him, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions, which is why I’m asking you how you feel about it all.”

“How did I miss it?” you said. “I didn’t realize right up until — well, you know — that he liked me, let alone for so long.”

“Sometimes people only see what they think they see,” she said. “You thought Tabito would never like you, so that’s what you believed. But he could, and he did. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” you said. “What am I supposed to do, date him? That’s just wrong!”

“Why is it wrong?” she said. “By the way, I’m not all too invested in any particular outcome, just as long as you’re happy, so don’t think I’m trying to steer you towards any specific path. I just want you to be fully honest with yourself before you jump to making decisions about any of this.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Okay, well, first off, he’s your — you, as in my best friend — little brother.”

“Not yours, though,” she said.

“But as good as,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve never treated him like a sibling,” she said. “That’s not to say you don’t care about him, but it’s in a different way than a sister would.”

“He’s also younger than me,” you said.

“Yukimiya’s younger than I am, and we’re perfectly happy. Plus, you were the first to say that there weren’t any issues with that, so why’s it a problem now?” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But that’s — that’s different! You met him only recently. I’ve known Tabito since we were little kids! Doesn’t that make it weird?” you said.

“People get married to their childhood friends all of the time. It’s not that unusual,” Yayoi said. “Is there anything else?”

“No, it’s just strange, that’s all!” you said. “You seriously don’t find it even a little odd?”

“I’ve had a lot longer to adjust to it than you have,” she said with a shrug, sipping on the soda she had ordered with her meal. “Let’s approach this in a different way. What about if you both were the same age, and you met later in life? In a university lecture or something. If that was the case, and he asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “That was a stupid question. Who would say no? He’s smart, he’s good at pretty much everything, he’s sweet and funny and caring; additionally, from an objective standpoint, he’s incredibly attractive. I’d do everything I could to keep him if he happened to glance my way.”

“Even if he ended up being younger than you?” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — oh.”

She gave you a dull look. “Just so you know, that is not a sisterly way to view a guy.”

“I got that,” you said.

“Do you think maybe it’s possible that you’ve loved him too, almost the entire time?” she said. “Maybe even before you understood what it meant to love someone else? Back when sibling was the closest relationship to another kid that you, as an only child, could conceive of?”

“I guess that that — that’s definitely a possibility,” you said.

“It could be,” she said. “And then the notion of him being your ‘brother’ became so set in your mind that you couldn’t possibly think of him as anything else.”

“There’s a chance that that was what happened,” you said slowly. “But I don’t feel what I did for Aoyama when I look at Tabito. It’s something else entirely.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love Tabito,” Yayoi said, flagging down the waiter so you could pay for your food. “It just means you didn’t love Aoyama, or didn’t love him as much. Considering which one is still in your life and which one you haven’t spoken to in years, it’s not unlikely.”

“What do I do now, then?” you said.

“What do you want to do?” she said as the two of you exited the restaurant. “I’ll be your friend no matter what. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you said, suddenly terrified. “I won’t survive if I do. Yayoi, I don’t…”

“You can’t,” she reassured you. “If you haven’t lost him yet, then I don’t think it’s possible for you to. But you know, then, right? What’s next?”

“I do,” you said, taking out your phone and picking up speed, veering in a different direction, turning over your shoulder to shout back at her. “Thank you, Yayoi!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back as you took off at a run, holding your phone up to your ear.

“Otoya,” you said breathlessly, as soon as he picked up. “Otoya, is Tabito there?”

“Uh, Y/N? Yeah, Karasu’s cooking dinner, why?” he said. “You good?”

“I’m coming over,” you said. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, and buzz me in when I get there. This is me calling in that favor you owe me, so do a good fucking job at it, okay?”

“Sure, I can, but why don’t you just ask him to do it directly?” he said.

“I don’t think he’ll pick up if I call him at the moment,” you said.

“Trouble in paradise? This is why I don’t do the whole ‘commitment’ gig. Too many complications,” Otoya said with a scoff. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only because — like you said — I owe you one, and because I’m going to evacuate the apartment as soon as you get here so I’m not caught in the crossfire.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That’s perfect. You rock.”

“Yup, you got it. See you.”

The elevator took too long, so after waiting for thirty seconds, you gave up and went for the stairs, taking them two at a time until you reached the floor that Tabito and Otoya lived on. Then you knocked on the door, waiting with crossed arms until it swung open and revealed Otoya, dressed in a pair of rubber-ducky boxers and nothing more.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said when he saw it was you.

“Where are you even going to go, dressed like that?” you said, momentarily distracted by the outfit, which was all but offensive to the eye. Otoya winked at you.

“There’s plenty of people in this complex that would welcome me dressed like this,” he said, walking out with a devilish grin. “I’ll go see one of them.”

“You have fun,” you said, unable to do anything but shake your head at the rakish response.

“I definitely will. You…do your best with Karasu. He’s been kinda down, so it’d be great if you could fix him right up again, because his pasta tastes shitty when he’s in a bad mood,” he said, saluting at you before vanishing into the closing elevator.

“Who was at the door?” Tabito said. He wore the pale green apron with white polka dots you had loaned him and never asked for back, and there was a wooden spoon in his right hand, which he used to stir a pot of sauce. “Hello? Otoya? Was it one of your exes again or something? Dude, you’ve gotta stop giving them our address, this is the third time this month that some girl has come to harass you.”

You were still for a moment, standing in the doorway, watching the muscles of his back tighten and then relax as he finished mixing the sauce, setting the spoon down on its stand and putting the lid back on the pot.

“Damn, silent treatment? Was it that bad? It’s your own fault, you dumbass,” he said. “It’s not like I tell you to bring them over. You do that all on your own, and these are the consequences you face as a result. Don’t blame me for it.”

What would you even tell him? He turned the stove to simmer, and you opened your mouth before closing it. You had no idea what to say. You had no idea what was even going on in your mind — you had left Yayoi with such an urgency that you hadn’t had the time to organize your thoughts as you would’ve liked to before such an important moment.

He turned around while untying his apron, his mouth curved into a sneer as he prepared to taunt who he must’ve thought was Otoya messing with him. Yet when he realized it was you, his face fell, as if just by standing there you had reprimanded him harshly.

“Y/N,” he said. You wondered how he could do it, how he could bear to still say your name with the same affection as always. Why hadn’t he left you? Why hadn’t he given up a long time ago? What had you ever done to be worthy of this kind of loyalty? What had you ever done to deserve a person like him?

A lump swelled in your throat, and the harder you tried to swallow it down, the more your eyesight prickled and blurred, until you could hardly see anything at all. For a second you were frozen, and then vaguely you were aware of him taking a step towards you and your inhibitions were lost entirely.

Crossing the expanse of the small kitchen and casting yourself into his embrace, you clung to his neck, crying in earnest when he held onto you as if by instinct, because the way he clutched your waist felt like coming home. He felt like coming home. He felt like butterflies in the spring and leaves in the fall and ice cream in the summer and storms in the winter and every other little thing from your life which you could only ever associate with him.

“I love you,” you said. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much I didn’t even realize it but I do now, I do, and I can finally see that I love you more than anything or anyone, Tabito, so please still love me back, please—”

“Shh,” he murmured, one of his hands moving up and down your back. “Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I was such a fool. I didn’t comprehend it, any of it, because I’ve loved you since before I understood what the word love meant.”

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, over and over until your tears abated, and only then did he speak.

“I’ve loved you for longer,” he said. “I loved you before I even knew you.”

“And do you still?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t stop so quickly.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you said. “But if you do, if you must, then keep it to yourself. I want to at least imagine that you’ll keep loving me for — for a long time.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t have to imagine that. I’ll love you forever if you want it.”

“I do,” you said. “I do want it.”

His lips ghosted along your temple as he smiled. Then, right before they fit against your own, he murmured: “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Though you had neither reason nor proof, you found that, wholeheartedly and fully, with all that you were, you believed him.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

Who amongst the nonhuman au guys is best for cuddles? (I know some of the guys don't have cemented forms which is honestly the beauty of this au since you can always have a different version of them look but if there's different versions then which do you think would be best cuddles?)

Of course, I'm more so asking your opinion (i very much have a preference lol and that's owl harpy rook hunt because i love Rook Hunt and i want to kiss all his feathers and give him all the cuddles and affection lol)

I suppose it depends on the kind of cuddles you want, warm cuddles? Definitely Harpy Rook, Jack, Leona, and Bear Trey.

A great spot to cuddle into is under Rook's wing where it's attached, a lot of warmth comes from there and the wing surrounding you will be like a blanket.

This is def Yuu with their harpy who's in a snuggle mood when one of the others asks if Yuu wants to do something with them. Though depending on who it is, and with how Rook is, I think he would probably offer them the other wing to snuggle under.

Only Yuu, Rook, and Vil take him up on it 😔 but Vil is always particular about things and Epel gets huffy. He's also going to use you being close as an excuse to try and preen you. Needs to make sure his mate is taken care of after all.

Jack is a winter wolf and fluffy as heck, the man runs like a heater. Like, you could cuddle him in a situation where or stuck in a cold cave in some snowy place and be totally fine as long as this man is cuddling you.

He can be a bit awkward about it at first, especially since he's a lot bigger than you and worried about accidentally smooshing his human. Eventually though when he gets more used to things and is more comfortable it, he might try laying on you sometimes, he gets good at distributing his weight, though admittedly he likes having you be the one to lay on top of him, another fan of using his human as a weighted plush.

Leona is another boy who runs hot, though not fluffy like the others when it comes to the fur on him that isn't his main, he uses fancy products, and it's very soft.

Unlike Jack, Leona doesn't care too much about crushing you and finds it funny when you whine about him being too big and heavy, trying and failing to push his big ass off of you. Will rest his head on your lap, chest, tummy, and butt, and will use your whole self as a body pillow. Will randomly bite and not apologize, expect to be aggressively groomed and then bit if you try getting away.

Trey is very warm, that green fur of his is thick, and you can comfortably sleep on the guy like a bed.

Similar to some of the harpies, you can sort of...just sleep and even hide in there if you need to. Very comfortable and you'll definitely feel safe with him, which is what he totally wants.

Now all of this is great but oh man can it be uncomfy when the weather is hot, not to mention that isn't going to keep the clinger guys from trying to smother you. Luckily there are some boys that are cold-blooded and are good for some cooler snuggles, though admittedly if they get cold, they're gonna use your squishy human body as a heating pad.

Idia, Jamil, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Malleus.

Now Idia and Jamil aren't as cuddly as other guys on her, but I think they should be on this list because their bodies are so great for it, you can comfortably use Idia as a sort of recliner and his floofy spider butt is a good pillow.

Jamil is his own bed and is yours, also his scales, along with Mal's feel really good against the skin.

Azul, Jade, and Floyd are all clingy as heck when cuddling or sleeping but you don't have to worry about overheating. Not to mention they're pretty comfy when fully in their mer forms, especially Azul. There's more squish to them, also Azul's giant self really makes the best bed.

Oh, and another mention, Lilia and Rollo.

Lilia is great for being a little spoon that you can snuggle but also as a bed when he turns into a big bat monster. Rollo's fur and wool are very comfy.

[luveline]

JADE THE EDDIE ZOMBIE AU WITH SHY!READER IS EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE WISHED FOR! could I request eddie cuddling the reader for the first time? maybe shy!reader gets an infection from her injuries or gets sick and he has to cuddle her to keep her warm??

thank u! eddie zombie au —you and eddie get to know one another and share a shy cuddle. fem!reader, 1.4k

tw throwing up/ vomit mention 

You're in the kind of pain that makes you nauseous whenever you move, and medication isn't making it better. Eddie —your saviour, and your new friend— keeps you doped up generously, but you're terrified to take the strong stuff and he's not eager to give you anything too sedative anyhow. 

"I don't want you to think I'm being selfish," he says, laying on the floor next to the dusty couch that makes for your sick bed, "but I don't know what dose is right, especially when you've had half a bottle of Tylenol in two days. And you had that rum. I should not have let you drink that." 

The rum numbed the pain quickly, but mixing alcohol and painkillers is a terrible idea. You'd been in agony and couldn't have cared less at the time, meanwhile Eddie's adrenaline wore off and he confiscated the bottle. Two hazy days later and you're not feeling any better than you had. It's concerning.

"I think I feel sick," you confess. 

Eddie sits up. When he looks at you, it's with all the care and concern of someone who's known you for years rather than days. "How sick?" 

"Just… sick." 

He holds up his hand carefully. "Can I?" he asks. You nod, and he presses his knuckles to your forehead, moving it an inch lower as he feels for your temperature. 

Eddie frowns. "Alright, not great." 

He eases your shirt up your hip. You're shy, sure, but his touch feels disarmingly intimate, his fingertips barely touching you as he peels the medical tape away from your gauze. He's already changed it twice. Your wound is messy even with his frankly impressive stitching. 

How come you're so good at them? you'd asked him. 

Well, I– I played this game with my friends and we made costumes, sometimes. Guess it came in handy. You know, it's funny, I had to give myself a couple of stitches a while back and it was Shelley-esque. 

Maybe 'cos you couldn't feel them… How are we going to take them out? you'd asked. 

His easy smile abated. Um. Well, we'll figure that out.

Eddie peels the gauze from your hip. "Don't look." 

"What?" you ask, looking down. 

Eddie puts his hand in front of your face. "Don't look, I don't want you to panic again." 

"Is it worth panicking over?" you ask. 

"I don't think it is, but if you see it you'll panic because it's your cut. I think I'm gonna wash it again, okay? Does that sound cool?" 

"I can do it," you say. 

"You don't do it, that would require looking at it."

"I can't look at it," you insist. 

Eddie does the strangest thing, a short line stroke against the uninjured skin beside your wound. He's trying to comfort you, you realise. 

This is why you wouldn't mind being friends with him. If he was going to murder you, he probably wouldn't have bothered saving your life, and he's been really friendly, even when you puked up your dinner yesterday and he had to help you change, too weak from blood loss to do it yourself. He made you more dinner afterwards, too, heating up a can of something on a camping butane fire. 

He's a nice person, you think. A good person.

Eddie washes your wound with water warmed and then left to cool over the camping fire. He pats it dry with a cotton pad, shushing you sympathetically when you whimper. "I have an antiseptic," he says gently, "a real one, not just the rum. We'll put some of that on and let it breathe, yeah?" 

"Whatever you think you should should," you say. 

"Okay. Sit tight. It might hurt again." 

The antiseptic is cold, and it stings for a few seconds where the warm water hadn't. When he's done, Eddie wipes his hands clean and folds your shirt up to keep the cut unmarred. 

You relax, Eddie diligent at your side. He unveils a pack of goldfish snacks he'd been saving for a special occasion and won't listen to you when you refuse them, opening them and pouring a splash of them onto your chest. "They're birthday cake flavour," he says. 

"Don't give me your nice food," you say. 

"Why not? I'm happy to do it. Just eat them. Unless you don't like them? I'm eighty percent sure I have twinkie, and there's a tiny Hershey's bar. Do you like chocolate?”

You eat some of his snacks and reject everything else he offers you. You only get up to use the bathroom (a bucket you'd rather not talk about). Eddie brings you some more warm water and a cloth when the sun sets to wash and sits in the kitchen of the pizzeria to offer you some privacy. 

The staff room feels scary without him. You've known him for not even three days, and already you're worried he's going to run off without you. Considering you'd probably die if he left you now, it's a typical reaction, but he's being so nice. You'd been fucking tired of dragging yourself from one place to another; having someone else waiting on you is a miracle. 

A reprieve. 

"Eddie?" you call. 

"You okay?" 

"You can come back. I'm done." 

"Awesome," he says, quick to turn the corner. He checks that his wagon and bike are still connected before rolling them to the back of the room. With everything done for tonight, he secures the room, hooking a chair under the door handle, and pushing a half filled water tank in front of it. 

"Need anything else?" he asks, crouching in front of you. 

"No," you say gratefully.

"Okay." He sits down on the floor, laying back, your bodies in line and apart. "Tell me if you do." 

You puked on his blanket, too, and he hadn't been able to wash it. He took all the gross stuff, your ruined clothes, blood and vomit covered, and chucked it outside far from the building.

"I'm really sorry about… making such a mess," you say, turning as onto your side as you can manage. 

"Don't be sorry, you couldn't help it." 

"Did you–" You lick your lips quickly. “There's room up here. Not a lot, I know, but you don't have to sleep on the floor. It's getting cold." 

"I don't wanna squish you," he says. 

"I can handle some squishing. You've done so much for me, I don't like that you're on the ground." You clear your throat. "If you want to. I don't mind," you mumble. 

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." 

"It's okay," you say, shifting as far into the back of the couch as you can. It's nice and wide but he'll have to lay on his side to fit. "It might be nice. It really is cold." 

As soon as you've said it, your skin flushes with heat. Embarrassment has you staring resolutely at the wall, more eager than you want to be as Eddie sits on the couch and eases onto his side, legs straight, arms tucked in. It's never going to be comfortable. 

"You can touch me," you say. "It's fine."

Beyond his grazing fingers, you haven't been touched with anything akin to kindness since before the apocalypse began. You want it badly, so badly that his arm pressed over your waist makes you cringe at first. 

"Kinda awkward," he says. 

"I don't remember the last time…" 

You turn your head toward his but close your eyes. Eddie sighs, his body heat already seeping into your side where he's cuddling into you. His arm relaxes over your front, and you relax in turn beneath him. 

"Me neither," he murmurs. "Don't let me hurt you, okay? Push me off if I get too close to your hip." 

You agree. Things are strange for a while, the nerves of being close to him strangling any pleasure, but eventually Eddie falls asleep, his face falling into the slope of your shoulder, and you wrap your arm around his waist to keep him from falling on the ground in his sleep, and the strangeness melds to bone-deep relief. 

It's very, very nice to be held by someone. 

Eddie's curls tickle your face. He snores in his sleep. You try your best to ignore it. 

[luvhughes43]

Yes! I need the Hughes!sister and Nico au!!!

Like when or how did they realize they had feelings for each other?

🫶🫶🫶

so nico and blake had met before obviously, but they never really hung out because they were both super busy with their own sports. but with blake injuries, jack and nico go over to her apartment a lot to check up on her and thats where they get super close

SO! here are some things that made them realize they liked the other person:

blake:

whenever her phone rang or buzzed, her first thought always went to nico and hoping that he was the reason behind her notifs

when jack would come over to her apartment and she'd catch herself being disappointed when nico didn't come with him

nicos brown puppy dog eyes. once hes talking to her, literally sitting like a foot or two away from her, and shes just completely mesmerized. she doesn't realize he stopped talking and once she catches on shes like "did i really just sit here with my cheek resting on my palm mesmerized by this man..."

when she was scrolling through the njd merch website to buy something to wear to one of jacks upcoming games and she decides to impulsively buy nicos jersey (she doesn't admit that she's bought it tho she keeps it in her closet and periodically pulls it out to stare at)

she starts giggling and blushing whenever hes talking to her even if what he said isn't funny

when she downloads duolingo to try and learn some swiss german after one too many glasses of wine tho is when she realizes she truly has a problem and that she fr likes him

nico:

when hes cooking himself dinner at night and he immediately thinks of making enough for blake and bringing it over to her apartment. hes like "well... i know shes upset right now so..." and so he doubles whatever recipe hes making

when jack tells him that blakes starting to feel better and that nico doesnt have to come with him to her apartment anymore and nicos first thought is ... "but i want to see blake"

when theyre out one night with the rest of the team and the boys keep urging him to go talk to this girl who's staring at him but he refuses because "why would i leave blake to talk to these idiots without me"

when hes hanging out with friends and blake calls and so he's immediately excusing himself from the room so he can hear her properly

he remembers all the little things like her coffee orders, favourite songs, snacks, etc... all saved into his notes app "just in case she needs something"

when jack comes over to nicos apartment to hang out and nico distractedly asked where blake was... (gagged jack bad)

nico watching a whole season of a tv show on a plane ride just because blake mentioned that she liked it

overhearing jack asking blake when she was gonna get a bf... his heart started beating fr hoping that she had no prospects (aside from him ofc) when this happens he reevaluates and is like... "okay maybe i'm not doing all of this because i think of her as just a friend.." and then he goes down that spiral of "if its morally wrong to date my teammate / bromance twins sister"

[olsenmyolsen]

Vampire Things

master list

dark master list

MCU AU (Vampire Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Sudo-sequel to Feeling Used

Summary: You feel at peace with the Avengers thanks to Wanda Maximoff. But what happens when your feelings run deep for her?

Word Count: 3.1K

Content Warnings: Blood, Mentions of Hydra if you squint

Special thanks to everyone who voted on the poll ❤️

It's been about eight months since Wanda Maximoff, and you became best friends.

What started out as her saving you from a nightmare to watch TV and play twenty questions about your abilities has blossomed into so much more. She's been there for everything. Your training, bad days, and acclimating you to living in the U.S. with help from the others as well.

Natasha rolls her eyes as you and Wanda come running into the kitchen, smiling from ear to ear. "Jesus, you'd think we have children around here." She mumbles to Peter, who looks up from his textbook, a little afraid. "But I- I am a child..." The Seventeen-year-old states, making Natasha lift her head from her phone and look over Peter.

"Hmm, oh yeah."

Without saying another word, The Black Widow gets up and puts her dishes in the sink, walking past the two of you while leaving Peter confused.

You look over to Peter as Wanda focuses on gathering snacks for your movie marathon of Lord of the Rings. Wanda, having never finished them and you having never seen them only made sense. Plus, whatever to get Bucky to shut the hell up about the books. "Don't mind Natasha Peter. She just misses Maria."

Peter looks to you.

"How do you know?" You smile and walk towards the boy. You point to your ears. "Hearing her heartbeat gives it away. She was texting Maria." Peter makes an oh face. "That's kinda cool." Peter decides and gives you a smile.

You smile back and almost laugh when you remember that there was a point when Peter was afraid of you. Being a Vampire isn't exactly the easiest thing to be.

"Be careful, Peter, don't keep filling her ego!"

You playfully roll your eyes when Wanda decides to speak up. "Don't pressure the kid Maximoff!" You yell back to Peter's amusement. The youngling loves being around you and Wanda. He often times feels like a younger brother to the two of you, especially when Pietro gets involved.

You turn around and head back to Wanda, who eyes you and then looks to Peter. "So whatcha doing, Peter?"

"Wanda." You interject, knowing what she's doing. But she ignores you as you round the kitchen island to stand next to her. Peter looks from you to Wanda and swallows his nerves. "Just some homework. Ya- know it's important and all!" The kid begins moving his leg a thousand miles an hour, much to Wanda's delight.

"Oh my god! Quit torturing him."

You send your thoughts to Wanda, who turns to you with an arms full of junk food and candy. Most of which you had never had until Wanda introduced you to them. You decided sour candy was your favorite. Chocolate was Wandas.

"It's just a little funny."

You shake your head at Wanda's actions.

You see, since you and the witch have gotten closer and closer, it's been noticed amongst the other crime fighters you live with. However, no one stupidly had the nerve to say anything except for a teenager dressed in red and blue.

It was innocent, honestly. Peter was joining the Avengers for a Friday night dinner—Gilmore Girls style. When you and Wanda showed up late with messy hair and comfy clothes, no one batted an eye, mainly because they knew you and Wanda had a knack for taking afternoon naps after a mission.

But Peter didn't know that.

So when you and Wanda sat down and apologized for being late, he made a comment along the lines of "at least you two make a cute couple."

Everyone froze, not knowing how to approach the situation until Wanda broke the tension with a giggle—making everyone laugh. Like I said. Everyone laughed except you.

What Peter said only made the feelings you had as of late grow and shrink in a matter of seconds. Your constant battle for whether it was right or wrong to fall for your best friend was now seemingly squashed when Wanda laughed at the idea.

She liked the joke so much she had now used it as a means of playful torture towards the boy.

But your feelings remained.

Since being saved, one person has been by your side.

Most days, you wake up by their side and smile at the thought of them being around forever with you. You look at her as if she was a goddess. You get lost in her eyes and smile when you see her smile. Everything she does, you watch her do with a soft heart-shaped gaze.

You were in love with Wanda Maximoff.

"Detka?"

You hummed and looked over to your best friend. "Yeah?" Wanda looked you over and tilted her head a little worried. "You okay? I called your name multiple times." Wanda's face was filled with worry. "Sorry. Got lost in my head." You made a believable smile and laughed. "Vampire things." You joked at the excuse Pitero uses all the time when he doesn't understand why you do or do not do something a certain way.

Wanda nodded along and smiled as if she believed you. "Alright. Here." She handed you a bag of chips. "Help me." You picked up a few more things and started following Wanda out. The two of you saying bye to a very thankful Peter Parker.

When you got to the elevator, you laughed at the sound of Peters's heartbeat finally slowing down.

Once in Wanda's room, the Sokovian didn't have to pry into your mind to know that something was bothering you.

Maybe bothering wasn't the right word.

But whatever it was, Wanda could tell it was loud in your head.

That's the way things have been for a couple of months now. Wanda would notice how you often you'd fall in and out of your own head. Getting trapped by the loud thoughts, Wanda wouldn't dare to invade. She only went into your head to help you with your nightmares. She even did it more times than you knew of.

So Wanda would wait for you to come to her. But you didn't. And things would go back to normal between the two of you.

But as the two of you sat on the bed, ready to watch Lord of the Rings, Wanda decided to say something.

"Y/N.."

You looked over to your right as Wanda anxiously bit her lip. "What's up?" You cautiously held her left hand. "Is something wrong?" You asked, running your tongue over your pointed fangs. A nervous habit you had yet to break.

When your eyes locked onto hers, not only could you feel your heartbeat rapidly increase. But you could feel the beats of Wanda's as she nervously decided to ask: "Is everything okay?"

Wanda tightly wrapped her fingers around your own. "Yeah... I believe so." You answered without much conviction.

Wanda frowned. "I can tell somethings bothering you." You sighed. "It's fine." You smiled and squeezed Wanda's hand before moving your attention to the black screen of the paused movie.

Wanda knew you were lying.

"Y/N. You can tell me. I promise to listen. You can trust me." She says with a hint of sadness. Almost like she's afraid that you couldn't trust her. "Wanda..." You swallow and look to your left, away from her.

Do you tell her the truth?

You bit your bottom lip, allowing your fangs to stick out and glide along your skin.

If you weren't so in your head, you would've noticed the increase in Wanda's heartbeat and how her skin seemed to heat up under your touch.

"I- I know I can trust you, Wands..." You look back to your best friend with the green eyes of the girl you've fallen for. "It's just... complicated."

"Okay.." Wanda nods. "It's okay. You can tell me."

Wanda doesn't want to give up. Neither of you do when you need each other.

"I know I can tell you. I trust you more than anyone, but-"

"But what?" Wanda interrupts, gripping her hand around yours harder, moving so she's more in front of you. Blocking the movie that will never be played. Her eyes searching yours.

You look back at her and worry if it'll be for the last time.

Wanda's head fills with thoughts of you, and she worries if she's done something wrong.

"Tell me..." Wanda pleads with a whisper.

"Wanda-"

"Tell me!"

"I'm in love with you!"

The second those words fall from your lips, the AI system alerts Wanda's room in the compound that a sudden mission is about to take place—wheels up in 10 minutes.

You stare at the Sokovain's eyes, and they don't give you any indication of what Wanda is feeling. All you know is that it hurts when you feel Wanda loosen her grip on your hand. You swallow and slowly pull away.

You decide not to listen to Wanda's heartbeat and instead distract yourself by preparing for the mission.

You delicately get up from Wanda's bed and make your way to the door, feeling unsure of where the two of you stand. You don't want to look back, but you must when a red mist stops you from leaving.

"Wanda..." Her name comes out in a calm, defeated tone.

Her body sits still, but her face contorts into one of confusion. Her eyes pool with tears above the red glow of her iris. And then... they fade, and the mist dissipates as she looks up at you. "Y/N..."

"Wanda, we don't have to-"

"You love me?" Those three words come out of her cracking throat. You watch a tear fall down her cheek before reacting and moving to sit in front of her.

Wanda watches you approach and take her hands in yours.

"I do. I do love you, Wanda." You want to say more. But you don't know what. Would you say you're sorry for falling for your best friend? Would you tell her that she's the reason you're even still an Avenger?

You don't know. So you leave it at that as Wanda looks at you.

This time, Wanda removes her hand from your hold before slightly raising it. "Ma- May I?" Wanda asks permission to enter your mind. Wanda wants to the extent of your love. She wants to know why or how you fell for her. Because truth be told, Wanda can't believe it. She's never had someone confess to her before.

You trust Wanda with all your heart. So you take her hand and place it above your head. "Go ahead."

Wanda thanks you and closes her eyes as thin red lines of Wanda's magic extend themselves from her as they enter your mind. You're always too sleepy or focused on your panic attack from a nightmare that you've never really felt what it's like for Wanda to enter your mind, but it makes the ends of your lips curl up. It's ticklish.

You watch Wanda smile and laugh at what you assume to be memories between the two of you. You wish you could see exactly what she's looking at in this moment, but you're just happy to be sharing how you see the witch with Wanda herself.

You feel the magic begin to decrease in your mind, and you watch as Wanda's smile grows before she opens her green eyes back to you. Her hand returning to her lap. Wanda opens her mouth but closes it immediately.

"Is... is that really how you see me, detka?" Wanda asks shyly with a tilt of her head. "Every day." You answer. Wanda smiles and gives you her hand to hold. Her thumb rubbing over yours.

"I remember... I remember the first night you came into my room." Wanda smiles, and you look at her confused before thinking she probably saw that memory. "You were nervous and shy." She states the obvious before pausing. "...I love you too, Y/N. I didn't need to look into your mind to know how I feel about you. I just wanted to see how you feel that way about me.."

The last sentence catches you off guard.

"Wanda..." You see another tear fall, and within a second, you are holding Wanda in your arms. Her head is in the crook of your neck. You let her silently cry for a few moments.

When Wanda finally sniffles and pulls away, you move your hands up to her face and hold her. You wipe away the tear tracks and find yourself nervous to be this close to Wanda. You hear a spike in Wanda's heartbeat as your soft hands brush her skin, making you look up from her lips to her eyes.

"Can I?"

"Please," Wanda telepathically replies. You brush over her cheeks one more time before you move into her. Gently and carefully, your lips touch. Wanda feels and tastes better than you ever imagined. Her soft lips push against yours until you both separate.

No additional words are said or unsaid when you and Wanda collide with each other again. This time, the kiss is rougher and more urgent. Wanda loves how you feel and marvels at the way your breath feels on her mouth. She wants more of you, and you want more of her so much so that- "Ow!"

In the blink of an eye, you backed away from Wanda and felt your beating heart break at the sight of Wanda's bleeding lip.

Her hand flew up to her mouth before she looked at you. You who was wearing a horrified look. "Oh my God, Wanda! I'm so sorry!!" Wanda, with wide eyes, looked at the blood on her finger. "Is this from-" Wanda looked up, and you knew what had caused this. You lifted your lip for her to get a look at your right fang.

No longer red.

"I didn't mean to Wands!" You had a sad look as you begged for Wanda to listen to you. But she knew. "It's okay." She licked her lip and felt okay when she didn't wince. "Y/N, I'm fine." You didn't want to hear it, though. "No, Wanda, I hurt you.." Your voice cracked.

This one was one of the many reasons why telling Wanda the truth about your feelings wouldn't be good. You could always hurt her.

Wanda saw you spiraling and getting trapped in your head again. She went to reach out to you but stopped. A light bulb went off above her head. Regardless of what territory you and Wanda were in right now, she could now do what she had wanted to do before.

Wanda leaned over and removed your hands from your face before she pushed you down onto the bed as her lips smashed into yours once again. You tried to stop Wanda, but she knew you would. So, as she laid kiss after kiss on your lips, you found your hands were stopped by a red mist of magic before they could even touch Wanda.

Suddenly you felt very hot.

"Wanda..." You bit back a moan as Wanda lifted herself off of you. "Y/N." She replied with a smile. "You don't hurt me." She said when you didn't answer. You sighed as you looked over Wanda's lip. "But-"

"Y/N, stop," Wanda warned. "Look at me. I'm fine. If we're going to start dating, then this is going to happen."

Wanda was right. Accidents with your pointed teeth were going to happen. Mostly because you were never close enough to anyone like Wanda before. You never had to be friendly or gentle to people if your fangs were going to be involved.

You were made to be a monster, but Wanda never saw you as that.

"And... I kinda liked it." Wanda blushed when you looked into her eyes. "It felt good being... feeling your teeth. Being marked by you."

Your brain crashed.

"Did you like it... the taste of me?" Wanda asked that, on the surface, would appear as an innocent question. But it was burning her on the inside. Wanda needed to know if you felt what she did.

You nodded. "You tasted better than I ever could have imagined.." Your hands found Wanda's face again. Wanda started to lean in. "I only need and want you." Your mouth opened as Wanda closed her eyes, her lips finding your neck-

"Hey guys- Oh my God!"

You pulled back while Wanda pushed the top half of her body off of you as you both turned to see Peter in his Spider-Man suit staring at the two of you. Jaw dropped. "I- I'm sorr- Wait, how long- No! I- Cap said to get you."

Peter continued to stumble and flail over his words until he managed to say: "Quinjet. Downstairs. Now!"

You and Wanda watched Peter leave red in the face. "Well, cats outta the bag," Wanda said, making you laugh. "I never understood that phrase. What cat? Why was it in the bag? It doesn't make sense." Wanda tilted her head before smiling. "The Vampire just said that." Wanda giggled as you rolled your eyes, and even though you were needed for a mission, you and the witch didn't move.

"Wanda, what happens between us now." You rubbed your hands up and down her arms. "Now..." She leaned down to be on top of you again. "Detka, I'd like to be your girlfriend."

"Really?" Wanda laughed at your surprised look. "If you saw how I see you, Y/N, you wouldn't be surprised."

"Maybe later." Wanda nodded and added. "After the mission. But for now." Wanda leaned into you and put her lips next to your ear. "I want you to kiss me." You turned your head to her and placed your lips on Wanda's and her small cut. The pain that came with it morphed into pleasure.

"I want to feel you," Wanda spoke in a whisper when your lips separated. "But-"

"You could never hurt me. I trust you and all your Vampire Things." Wanda's lips curled upward as yours did the same. "Let's save it till after the mission. I can hear Cap making his way here." Wanda groaned, having to get up.

"Fine. But after I have a talk with Spider-Boy, I want to sit down and kiss my girlfriend and watch Lord of the Rings."

"Girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend."

A/N: Enjoy this instead of getting your hearts broken

dividers by @/benkeibear

[impala-dreamer]

All stories written for @jacklesversebingo 2023-2024 Featuring Jensen Ackles and his classic characters (all stories are posted to Patreon weeks before tumblr/a03) TWENTY FIVE AWESOME STORIES - 115,724 Words All FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE!

Slipping Away

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Short Story

~ In his heart he’s lived a hundred lives, been through hell and back, loved a million souls. The heart is strong but the mind is weak, and in the end, only memory remains as his lives begin to fade.~

Jensen Ackles

954 Words

Bittersweet Angst

The Realization of Intimacy

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story 

~ Every now and then, a quick trip through town becomes more than he expected. ~

1,311 Words

Dean x Reader

NSFWish, Fluff!, Tickling!

Sweet Creature

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~Bad things happen when you take matters into your own hands and try to prove that love conquers all~

Demon!Dean x OFC Stevie Miller 

3138 Words

NSFW, Danger, Angst, Violence, Blood

You Only Want Me When You're High

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Story From The Boys Universe

~ As the newest and most useless recruit to The Boys, Y/N is tasked with keeping an eye on Soldier Boy while Butcher sorts things out. Annoyed to be given such a ridiculous job, she tries to keep the defrosted supe at arm’s length, but there’s something in the drugs and in his eyes that makes him hard to resist…~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader, Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher

5,426 Words

NSFW, Sexual Acts, Excessive Drug Use, Just NSFW all around…

The Beat of Your Heart

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~ Friends become lovers who turn into the darkest evil that one can endure... ~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader; Michael!Dean x F!Reader

8,587 Words

NSFW, Fluff, Cute Banter, Friends To Lovers, There Was Only One Bed!?, All the Sex, Passionate Love, Hope, *record scratch*, Extreme Angst, Violence, NnCn, Torture, Blood, Major Character Death

It’s Fucking Unprofessional

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Story from The Boys Universe

~ While working as a PA for Vought, Y/N has made one promise to herself: to stay the fuck away from Soldier Boy. Some promises are too easily broken…~

Soldier Boy x F!Reader

2,434 Words 

 NSFW. Snark. Cursing. Assholery. Fucking. 

Be My Mistake

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Short Story

~ When Rebekah is asked to write with Jensen on his first solo album, the chemistry extends past the page and bleeds into real life. Both happily married, they tried to fight the spark between them, but some things aren’t so easy to ignore… ~

Jensen Ackles x Rebekah Jordan

Romance, Angst, Infidelity, Sex and Love and Heartache

The Fragile Heart

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Stort Story

~ After returning home from filming a movie in Europe, Jensen fights to control himself and Y/N keep safe. Unfortunately, lust is hard to fight and hunger even more so…~ 

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

NSFW, Vampire!AU, Relationship Angst, Mentions of Past Infidelity, Smut, Blood, Dark Romance, Death

When I Think About You

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

Dean Winchester x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Jack

2,037 Words

NSFW, Sexy Comedy, Failed Stripper Routine, Excessive Offkey Singing of a Classic Song, Accidental Indecent Exposure, Naked Dean.

I Ain't Ready To Go

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Short Story

~Some boundaries are hard not to cross...~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

3,426 Words

Blind Faith

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story ~What if the cure was never really a cure? What if the curse was too strong and her love was too weak?~ Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester.  9,760 Words

Legendary & Momentary

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~Two strangers meet again; two memories collide. Will things be different this time? Will there be more to their story or just a long overdue kiss goodbye?~ Dean x Reader, Sam, OMC   5,356 Words

Worn Out Leather

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~ It isn't easy, but you know when it's time to go.~

Dean Winchester x Reader

5,267 Words

Sweet Little Lies

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~ It’s funny how one little white lie can spiral so out of control that the beginning seems eons ago and the end is nowhere in sight.~

Dean Winchester, OFC Eddie, OMC Leslie, Sam Winchester and others

8,517 Words

Lumière

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~ Dean rises with the sun and takes some time to appreciate the way the light glides over his lover...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

1,657 Words

Danger In The Mist

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story From Moondoor

~ As the fair Princess Y/N races through the woods, running for her life from the evil monster, Margraw the Horrid, she fears that all is lost. Is there anyone who can save her? Will some brave knight come to her aide?! ~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

2,400 Words

Meet Me At The Beach

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~ Texting and emails can feel so impersonal. There's nothing quite like exchanging tangible, handwritten letters with someone you love...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader, Sam Winchester

4,025 Words

Temptation & Consequences

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Short Story

~Jensen has been busy all weekend at the convention, leaving little time for fun with his girl. Luckily, Y/N knows how to get his attention... and more...~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

2,176 Words

Cherry Wine

Tumblr ~ AO3

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~Tom left town in a hurry, escaping capture by faking his death. On the run and distraught, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.~

Tom Hanniger x Rose (OFC)

2,453 Words

Save Me

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped and with the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester

7,160 Words

Let's Dance

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Story from The Boys Universe

~If there's one thing she knows, it's that she fucking hates Soldier Boy. If there's one thing he knows, it's that he can change her mind.~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader

1,650 Words

Tourniquet

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernatural Story

~Y/N has been by Dean's side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment's peace.~

Staring: Y/N Y/L/N(f), Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester, and cameos by many others. 

21,415 Words, 10 Chapters

Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Ten Inch Hero Story

~Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...~

Boaz Priestly x F!Reader

2,511 Words

Captive Audience

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Story from The Boys Universe

~Y/N gets invited to a party but fails to realize that she's the favor...~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader

1,700 Words

Try It On

Tumblr ~ AO3

A Supernaturally Adorable Story

~Y/N and Dean like to spend their days off fooling around in the Bunker, and one particularly foolish day, they stumble into a room, and some items, she's never seen before...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

3,850 Words

[auncyen]

say what you mean

this post finally got written out. except halfway through the comedic potential turned into angst? oops? it's vaguely related to my no loops au but with a happier outcome.

-

'Za's the first to tell you he's going to take you home to Bambouche so you can see your sister. He finds you in the middle of the party, when you're hanging out to the side with the Drawing Kid because they don't coo and aww at you like the adults do or ask "what was the House like? what was the King like?!" the way the other kids do. The Drawing Kid just draws all the happy people, the Housemaidens and the villagers and your friends, and they're happy when you tell them they draw good, so you're happy to grab food for both of you and hang out by them. 'Za happens to spot you when you're getting eclairs and waves, getting you to stop so he can catch up. "Bonbon! Hey! Oooo, tasty--"

"They're for me and the Drawing Kid," you tell him. "Get your own!" The boulangere made a bunch, so 'Za can definitely have some. You just don't want to have to go back and forth again.

'Za laughs. "Will do! But listen, Bonbon, I've been thinking, uh. We're all going to be going our own way soon. Mira's staying here, M'dame's going back to Ka Bue, and Sif's..." 'Za frowns.

Frin's a crab who wouldn't tell you what he's going to do now. He just made dumb jokes about going to space instead. And you don't like thinking about how everyone's splitting up. Of course you want to see your sister again, but... "So what?" you ask.

Za's still frowning, but he keeps going. "Well, I just thought, why don't I bring you to Bambouche? Everyone else is going a different direction."

"...Isn't Jouvente a different direction, too?" You've never been there yourself, but. Bambouche is along the coast. Dormont's further inland, but you can still see the coast from the top of the House. Jouvente's near the south border. You've heard people say you can't see any ocean from ANYWHERE in there. No wonder Za's weird, growing up somewhere like that.

He keeps being weird by waving your logic away with his hand. "Oh, well! I've never been to the coast, and I'd like to see it! Plus..." He smiles down at you. "It'd be nice to see your hometown, and spend a little more time with you before you go home. But if you don't want me to take you home--"

"No!" you say quickly. Way too quickly, because 'Za's smile gets just a little wider and the Drawing Kid giggles quietly where they're lying in the grass with their paper pad. You fold your arms and look away, annoyed to feel the shade in your cheeks. "I mean. Sure. You can come with me to Bambouche. I'll tell you all about the ocean! I'm a cert-ived expert." You think that's the word 'Dile used.

"I'm looking forward to it!" Za says. "Just, um, can I ask a favor? I know you're probably really eager to see your sister, and there won't be any side trips once we're on the road! But...can we wait to leave until M'dame and Sif leave Dormont? I'd like to see them both off."

...You do want to see Nille right away. But... "Yeah. I can wait." You want to spend a little more time with 'Dile. And Frin, even if he's being dumb.

(You...don't know if Frin wants to spend more time with you. Frin always acts like losing his eye was no big deal, but you know that can't be true, and he hasn't called you 'Bonbon' since.)

"Great!" 'Za says. "I'll see you later. Time for some yummy eclairs~"

He wanders off toward the tables with all the food the villagers put together for the ultimate party. You see Frin near there, looking a little overwhelmed, swarmed by a gaggle of Housemaidens--they've all been curious about Frin, first because they dress funny and then because Belle and 'Za mentioned how they guided everyone through the House with a wish granted by the Favor Tree. Za starts to change course toward them, but before he gets there the really tall and pretty Head Housemaiden comes up to the group. She says something, and the group of Housemaidens opens up even before Frin turns toward her. She walks away, and they follow, and you wonder what the Head Housemaiden wants with Frin before you notice the Drawing Kid is drawing 'Za waaaaaay too cool. That's just. Wrong. 'Za's not cool, and you make sure to tell the Drawing Kid that. They seem skep-ti-cal, but they laugh when you tell them about the times Za's freaked out at bugs.

'Dile comes up while you're looking at a cool new drawing the Drawing Kid's done (they know how to draw the BEST spiders. they're amazing) and clears her throat to get your attention. "Boniface."

You look up. "Yeah?"

"I've been thinking, with Mirabelle's quest complete and our journey done... you'll need someone to make sure you get safely back to your sister in Bambouche."

"Yeah." You're about to tell her that Za's already got you covered, but then she looks to the side, and you've never seen 'Dile look...is she embarrassed? Shy? 'Dile??? You're distracted trying to figure out what that face means.

"I was thinking we'd find someone in Dormont who might be headed that way, but...well, all things considered, I think it best if I take you myself."

Huh?

"Don't you gotta go to Ka Bue? And it's, like. On the other side of the world?"

The Drawing Kid stops drawing to look up at 'Dile at this. The weird shy expression drops from her face and she smiles. Or 'smirks', you've heard the others describe 'Dile's kind of smile that way, when it looks like she's holding back a laugh.

"It is, but I'm on my own timetable and not beholden to anyone. There's a chance your sister might be upset that we took you along, and if she is, it's probably best one of us explains."

"You don't gotta explain to her. I came with," you say, folding your arms, and that gets you a small 'Dile chuckle from behind the smirk.

"That you did. Practically strong-armed us into taking you along. Nevertheless, your sister might appreciate an explanation from one of us....and, well." Her eyes dart away again just briefly before she smiles at you instead of smirking. "I never thought I'd teach someone as young as you, but you're the most enjoyable student I've ever had. We can see if there's anything more for me to teach you on the way there."

"Yeah! I bet there's loads more you can teach me, 'Dile! You're super smart!" And you like learning from her. It makes you feel really warm that she enjoys teaching you.

It's not often that 'Dile smiles like this, not for so long. "Just one thing, Boniface. It...will likely be the last time I see you all, so I plan to wait until Isabeau and Siffrin have left. I hope that's not a problem."

"Oh, 'Za--" You shut your mouth, and both 'Dile and the Drawing Kid look at you with confusion. You shake your head. "It's fine!!"

"Alright then. Enjoy the festivities, Boniface. Try not to go too wild on the desserts." With that, she leaves you and the Drawing Kid in the grass, though she stays at the edge of the crowds herself, letting any curious villagers come to her to ask questions rather than wandering into the thick of things.

The Drawing Kid looks at her, then at you. You can feel the question. "...I want both her and 'Za to come with me to Bambouche, but what if they're just volunteering because they don't think anyone else is gonna?" you explain. "If it's only gonna be one of them, then..."

...Then you're not sure.

If 'Za were here, you'd tell him 'Dile's wa-a-ay cooler and you're going with her. Because. Well, because 'Dile is cooler, and teasing 'Za is fun. But you like traveling with 'Za too! Sometimes he gives you piggyback rides, and he's really calm. 'Dile's calm too, but it's a different kind of calm. Like...if you had a big problem, you'd go to 'Dile because she's smart and can solve it. But if you needed a good laugh, you'd go to Za. And maybe he's not as cool as 'Dile, but that's not his fault. No one's as cool as 'Dile.

You want both of them to go to Bambouche with you.

At least the Drawing Kid doesn't pressure you to answer. They just give you a little nudge before handing you a dark gray crayon and some paper so you can draw too. You doodle the Head Housemaiden for a bit after you spot her back in the party (which isn't hard with how tall she is!) You look lower, but you don't see Frin. They must be done talking about whatever she wanted to talk about.

Maybe you can give Belle a drawing as a goodbye present? It'd last longer than food, anyway. ...You don't know what to draw, though. And she's still surrounded by so many people, all the villagers and Housemaidens wanting to congratulate her or thank her or catch up with her. You leave your big hat with the Drawing Kid so it won't get knocked off and thread your way through the crowd to see her.

"Oh! Bonnie!" Belle looks a bit tired when you first see her face, but she smiles fondly at you and reaches for your hand. "Bonnie, there's something we need to talk about! Just a minute, everyone...!"

The crowd parts as soon as Belle says that, people recognizing that she wants a break. ...By how quickly Belle pulls you to the side of the party, you think she must have been wanting a break for a while now. Good thing you went to check on her! "Are you thirsty?" you ask her. "Hungry?" You know the adults kind of made up the job to keep you busy, but. You liked being Snack Master. And you think Belle might need a snack.

"...Some mint water would be nice," she admits.

You get her mint water. She smiles and thanks you when you hand her the glass, and after three long sips she sets the glass down on a nearby barrel and claps her hands, refreshed.

"So, Bonnie! I wanted to talk to you about how you're getting back home."

...? You've heard this before.

"I was thinking I could take you back, if you don't mind? I'm sure Isabeau's family and friends are worried about him back in Jouvente, and Madame Odile and Siffrin have their own homes to get back to--and you have yours!"

You've. Kind of heard this before, too. Not exactly, because it's Belle and not 'Za, but. Hey, wait, 'Za thought-- "You're not staying in Dormont?" you ask.

Belle shrugs, looking unsure before she smiles. "You know Housemaidens go on pilgrimages, right? It might finally be time for mine!"

Wasn't she just on a pilgrimage. Aren't pilgrimages just long journeys??? Is there something you're missing?? But also why'd Za say she's staying in Dormont if she's not???

"Plus, everyone here knows I'm fine and not to worry about me. I don't want to keep your sister waiting--th, though! I also don't want to rush our goodbyes with the others!" Belle rushes to add, watching you nervously for your reaction. "T, that is, if you can wait just a little while, until the others are ready to leave..."

You have heard this before, and now you're super questioning the adults who've been taking care of you the last couple of months. Because you're really happy that everyone wants to go with you to Bambouche! ...It also sounds like everyone doesn't want to leave the others yet? But? They haven't talked about it? At all??

Your teachers tell you you should speak up and all this time you thought Frin was just the weird adult who didn't but it turns out all of them are like this????

...Does. Does Frin--

He probably doesn't want to take you to Bambouche.

But. They'd probably like hanging out with Belle and 'Za and 'Dile for longer. And even if they're frustrating (because they won't speak up, because they'll always pretend it's fine you got them half-blind)--

Belle's face falls. "I'm sorry, is that selfish of me? Or would you like someone else to take you? I, I--"

"No!" you say quickly. "I want you to come to Bambouche!" Belle and 'Za and 'Dile! But also-- "I just--I gotta find Frin! Have you seen them?"

"O, oh!" Belle's pendants jangle and chime as she spins about, looking. "No, I can't say I've seen them recently, but maybe Isabeau has?" She points him out by the tables, and you run to him--not full speed, but fast enough you've got his full attention.

"Bonbon? Something the matter?"

"No, but I need to find Frin!"

Za scans the party, a frown slowly growing on his face. "Where is he...? Maybe M'dame knows. Hey, M'dame!" He waves and starts making his way to 'Dile. You jog past him to her, because you want to find Frin so you can talk about everyone going to Bambouche together!

"'Dile! Have you seen Frin?"

She frowns. "Not in quite a while. Maybe the celebration was too much for them? They could be resting..."

"Excuse me," the Head Housemaiden says from behind you, except you don't realize it was her talking until you look behind and see her looming, because. She sounds nervous. You haven't heard her sound like that yet. "Your Traveler, Siffrin--is he not with any of you?"

"No," 'Dile says, with a good long look at the Head Housemaiden. She thinks that tone is weird too. "Do you need something with them?"

"She was talking to them earlier," you tell 'Dile, and she stares at the Head Housemaiden even harder at that.

"Euphrasie...?" Belle asks uncertainly.

The Head Housemaiden claps her hands twice, firm and loud enough to get the attention of most of the party. "Sorry to interrupt the fun!" she says with a broad smile. "But has anyone seen Siffrin? Our bright Savior, with a cloak and pointed hat."

"I saw them! They jumped across the river!" a kid calls. "At the broken bridge."

...He forgot about the unbroken bridge, didn't he.

"Thank you, Evrard," Euphrasie says, her voice bright and sunny until she turns back to them. Then, hushed and low: "Please check on him. He was quite upset when we parted ways. I thought they were going to talk with one of you, but if none of you have seen them..."

"What did you say to him?" Odile asks, and you flinch at her voice.

The Head Housemaiden doesn't. She just looks sad. "Their Wish Craft--I knew where it came from. I thought...they knew too. Please, go talk to them."

'Za doesn't need to hear any more than that, and as soon as he starts moving, so do you. 'Za's usually good about keeping pace with you, but right now he's worried about Frin and books it, past the field and then around, to the bridge that still works. You just follow as fast as you can, your shoes clomping across the wood planks. You hear Belle right behind, and even 'Dile's hurrying, and then--

And then you see Frin, and your heart wobbles because they're trying to smile at 'Za hovering over them, even from here you can faintly hear him insisting he's fine! He's fine! But his shoulders are trembling and he's got a hand pressed against his good eye, he can't see at all like that, why...you figure out why just as 'Za points out as gently as possible that people usually don't cry when they're fine. Belle gasps when she realizes too, jogging up to the two of them. "Siffrin!"

"Sorry," Frin says, like a dummy, because it's not like they made anyone else cry. "Sorry. I'm being--selfish--I should be smiling--everyone's going home--that's great! That's--" He tries to force a smile again, but it immediately twists and breaks just like the other bridge, and he pulls back from 'Za, grabbing at his head. "It's fine! It's fine! I always knew we were going to say goodbye! So--"

"We're not saying goodbye yet!" you shout, running up to him. "Frin! FRIN! We're going to Bambouche!"

They stare at you, their eye wide as they breathe in and out. "...Huh?"

"Everyone else said they're going to take me to Bambouche, but they also said we had to wait until everyone else left," you explain, looking over your shoulder at the others. "And that's 'cause no one wants to say goodbye yet, right?!"

"Well, yeah, but..." Za looks at Belle and 'Dile, embarrassed. "Uhm. I know I said that. But it sounds like..."

"...It sounds like we also said that, because we did, didn't we?" 'Dile says. "Mirabelle? I assume you're included in 'everyone else'?"

Belle makes a very embarrassed noise as she covers her face. "I didn't want to assume anything! I didn't want... to be selfish and force you on another journey..."

"And you couldn't ask?" 'Dile says, but then she sighs. "I suppose I'm in no position to talk."

"Uh HUH," you say, turning back to Frin. "You don't have to say goodbye to them yet! Come with us to Bambouche!"

"...Do you. Do you actually want me to come with?" Frin asks, which is silly. Of course you do--you're telling them to come with, aren't you!

"Frin, if you don't come with us I will be super duper mad. ...Unless you have a good reason. Like. ...People missing you at home, I guess." That would be a good reason. That would be a reason for him to say goodbye, even when the thought of goodbye makes him cry. Because you would be sad to leave the others too, but if it was the only way to see Nille again, you'd do it.

Even though it's a good reason, Frin bursts into a laugh. Their eye also wells up with tears again, and 'Za looks so worried. "Sif, buddy, can you--do you want to try breathing? Like you usually do?"

"Hah, ha-ah, huh?" Frin gasps, and it's only when 'Za does a slow breath in and out that Frin seems to remember the thing they do to calm down. They breathe in. They breathe out. In, and out. They set the bag slung over their shoulder down on the ground. ...Why do they have a bag?

"Were you planning to leave tonight?" 'Dile asks incredulously. Frin hunches in on himself.

"I didn't--I didn't want to ruin the celebration--"

"We're only able to celebrate because you helped us, Siffrin! You really think we'd want to party with you upset like this?" Belle shakes her head. Her hands are twisting each other, one picking at a nail on the other without her realizing. "What did Euphrasie even say to you?"

Frin pulls his hat brim down against his face. "She--she didn't say anything mean. She just told me the truth."

"The truth? About what?"

When Frin shrinks back even more, 'Za steps in. "Hey, hey. We all want to go to Bambouche together, right?" You nod, and Belle and 'Dile agree, and then 'Za leans over to get where Frin can see him. "Sif?"

"Yeah. If...Bonnie wants me, then...of course I want to go."

Of course I want to go. Is it really that simple? Even when Frin's upset, they don't hesitate to stay with you?

"Okay. Then...why don't we sleep in the clocktower one more night? I'll run back over real quick, tell them we're tuckered out from everything today and they can keep partying without us. And then...maybe we should have a little feelings talk in the morning," 'Za says, and the way he's looking at Belle is pleading for help because. Yeah. Whatever got Frin this upset is bad. "But we can start heading for Bambouche tomorrow."

"You can meet Nille!" you tell Frin. "And I can show you the cool places in town!"

Frin takes another deep breath in and out. He still looks shaky, but he's got a small smile. "That sounds great, Bonbon."

-

as for what euphrasie said, it goes back to this, just with a nicer ending (in terms of Euphrasie realizes OH SNAP sooner and someone finds Sif in time to keep him from leaving).