#oof the camera is so shaky but their smiles

[mamawasatesttube]

ooooo timkon w “Can you just hold me?” or “You look like you need a hug." for the ficlet thing :3

Kon's hair is a frizzy mess.

That's the first red flag. Kon is ridiculously vain when he wants to be, with a whole hair care shower routine, silken pillowcases, and an array of curl creams and whatnot that he had to explain to Tim twice before any of it stuck in his head properly. Tim teases him for it now and then, but he knows it's because Kon doesn't like people seeing him at anything but his best. Kon got too used to being picked apart on camera for that.

So the fact that his hair is unkempt and mussed as he lets himself in from the balcony is... concerning.

Even more concerning is the way he barely even looks at Tim before he throws himself at the bed, flopping face-down with an oof. The balcony door closes itself behind him like an afterthought, and he heaves a huge, melancholy sigh.

"Kon?" Tim pushes away from his desk, trotting over to the bedside. Kon's legs are sticking off, and Tim shakes his head fondly as he reaches down to tug Kon's boots off. "Long day, huh?"

The first boot comes off in his hands; the second follows almost instantaneously. Kon lifts his head from the duvet to give him a slightly sheepish look over his shoulder, apologetic, before he drops his face back down with a thump.

"I'm tired," he mumbles. And he sounds like it. There isn't even a hint of a smile in his voice.

Tim crawls onto the bed next to him, rests his hand comfortingly at the small of his back. "What happened?"

Kon hisses out another sigh into the duvet. "Someone tried to—and don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm fine—but someone tried to dissect me today. Again."

Alarm jolts through Tim's whole body; his hands immediately start roaming Kon's torso, probing for wounds. "What?! Are you hurt—"

"I just said, I'm fine, Rob." Kon sounds a little wry as he rolls onto his back. "Jeez. What happened to your listening skills?"

He catches one of Tim's wrists and holds it to his chest, over his heart; Tim can see the sliver of an incision, cut right into the center of the S-shield emblazoned on his chest. He can't tell if it cut the skin beneath or not, but at least he doesn't see any blood.

The tiny smile on Kon's face fades, and Tim softens, studying him. Now that he can look properly, he can see the telltale signs that Kon cried, earlier; his cheeks are a little blotchy, his eyes slightly reddened. An eyelash is stuck to the delicate skin just below his eye.

"Some... ugh. They were some, like, Cadmus-wannabes. Total bozos, though. They had a red sun lamp, but no metagene suppressant, so." Kon shrugs, discontented. "They didn't even use the energy restraints like that time with Amanda Spence, like—c'mon, at least do your basic research if you're gonna try to vivisect a guy, right?" He snorts humorlessly. "I got out fine, took it down, called the S.C.U., it's whatever. I'm just... I'm so tired, Tim," and his voice cracks on Tim's name.

"Kon," he murmurs, leaning down. He presses their foreheads together, his chest aching. He'll have to check the news, find out from reports who exactly was behind this, because... it shouldn't matter, since it's already taken care of, but something inside him burns at the thought that anyone, anywhere, could put such a bone-deep sorrow into Kon's eyes.

"I'm so tired of people acting like I'm—like I'm not a person just 'cuz I hatched outta some stupid tube in a lab." Kon's eyes are too bright. He squeezes them shut and takes a shaky breath. "Like—what do I gotta do, y'know? How do you just—how do you even get through to people who're so convinced clones aren't people? I'm a person, too! I just... I..."

Tim very briefly debates the ethics of breaking into Stryker's just so he can hit someone with his staff. Or his car.

"I'm... really sorry you had to deal with that," he says instead, lamely. It's cold comfort, and awkward, and—

And it makes Kon laugh, watery but real. He blinks his teary-bright eyes up at Tim, brushes a gloved hand to his cheek. "You're mad as hell right now, aren't you?"

Tim smiles ruefully and presses his lips to Kon's jaw. "You caught me." Another kiss, to the corner of Kon's mouth. "I just—I hate that I can't do anything to fix this kinda thing for you. You don't deserve it."

"Mm." Kon takes a second to collect himself, swallows hard, and breathes out slowly. "You do more than you realize, I think. Can you just—can you just hold me? For a little while?"

Tim flops down on top of him immediately, wraps his arms around his head and neck, and smushes his face into Kon's hair. It would probably be more comfortable if they were side-by-side and facing each other, but the advantage of this position is that—

Kon laughs again, soft and fond. His voice is still a little thick, but he's smiling now. "Is that comfy for you...?"

"Kinda." Tim kisses his temple, too. "You smell like smoke."

"Mmf, sorry." Kon sighs again. "And I got it all over the bed now, too, huh..."

"S'okay. We can just grab a different blanket later." Tim scrunches his fingers through Kon's hair until they hit a tangle. "...Want me to wash your hair for you?"

Kon's arms tighten around him, and suddenly he seems like he needs a moment before he can respond. Tim doesn't rush him.

"Yeah," Kon croaks out after a moment, his voice suspiciously wet. "Yeah, Robbie. I'd like that a lot."

[haylorheart]

Peter

Haylor FANFICTION based off the song Peter by Taylor Swift. <3

First fanfic in a long time, and first one about a celebrity and not a show, so please be gentle with me. It’s a one shot probably and nothing will come of it besides this. 🫣🫠 also my character development is in the works. Harry needs some… help 😅

Forgive me Peter, my lost fearless Leader, in closets like cedar preserved from when we were just kids Is it something I did? The goddess of timing once found us beguiling. She said she was trying; Peter was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.

Timing was everything in LA, and the Grammy Awards were no joke. Harry was sweating as he turned away from the crowd. His anxiety was sky high, and he knew that he could not handle the red carpet much longer. He threw one more smile towards the crowd as he departed, heading inside. He knew the cameras would follow, but as soon as he hit the doors, he ducked inside the closest bathroom in hopes that he might get some reprieve. He sighed when he found no one else inside. He leaned against the wall, pushing his sleeves up a little. The sheen of sweat on his upper lip bothered him, his head was aching, and although he was up for a grammy, he wasn't sure he even wanted to be there anymore. He loved his job. He loved this life. But sometimes he just got tired. After a few moments' peace, he used the restroom, washed his hands, and walked out the door.

Right outside the door, he hit something soft. Or rather, someone soft. He let out a small “oof” before steadying himself quickly and then the person in front of him. His green eyes met the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen – ones he'd seen in his dreams for the last12 years. He bit his lip.

“I'm so sorry Taylor. Are you okay?” He asked, his breath caught a little in his throat. He willed his hands to not shake as he held on to her, she still seemed a little unsteady.

“I'm okay, I think. You didn't run into me so much as scare me.” She nervously giggled. She looked around the mostly empty hallway, then stepped back. “I hope to catch up in a bit, but I better go find my date.” She said with a wistful look on her face. She turned and walked away, and Harry could do nothing more than watch her leave. A million thoughts ran through his mind, things he should have said, things he wished he would have done in that moment before she walked away – again. He didn't even want to picture her date. Or think of his own, for that matter. He muttered to himself as he went to go find his date in the crowd.

And I didn't wanna come down; I thought it was just goodbye for now. You said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me ... words from the mouths of babes - promises oceans deep, but never to keep.

Taylor kept her head held high as she walked away from Harry, but she was so glad he couldn't see her face. She remembered after only a moment that the rest of the world was about to see her face too, on camera. She took a shaky breath and composed herself before stepping into the main hall. The place was abuzz with activity, and she knew that the clever hosts had placed her and Harry not too far apart. She had come with hopes of having a good time, so why was she already so rattled? She liked being in his presence. He always calmed her down... Well, not always, if she admitted the truth to herself. But generally. She had taken to being a big supporter of his, and he supported her. She wasn't about to change that just because she was in a relationship. She found her boyfriend at the front of the room, talking with another celebrity. She smiled and tried her best to act interested, but her eyes were looking around for a certain man. She focused on her boyfriend in front of her, and he smiled and put his arm around her. She snuggled up to him, wanting to seem as calm and collected with him as she usually did.

From across the room, she accidentally met Harry's eyes. He was looking right at her. She smiled a weak smile, and he returned the same, and she felt her heart pick up speed. She couldn't be the first to break eye contact, no matter how much she tried. She couldn't force herself. Harry noticed Taylor's boyfriend was trying to say something to her and forced himself to look away, and she finally looked up and spoke

“Sorry, what were you saying? I was zoning out”. She giggled a little and her boyfriend gave her an indulgent smile.

“I was just saying...” And almost immediately Taylor zoned out again, but she avoided looking at Harry. She knew that if she looked at him again, she was going to definitely alert her boyfriend to something.

Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer? I've heard great things Peter, But life was always easier on you Than it was on me. And sometimes it gets me, when crossing your jet stream, we both did the best we could do underneath the same moon in different galaxies. And I didn't wanna hang around We said it was just goodbye for now

Harry did his best at avoiding looking at Taylor, but when it came time for her to accept her award, he gave her his full attention. It was perfect timing; everyone was already paying her attention. He was so proud of all of her accomplishments. She was the shining star she always had been. She was the brightest, most amazing comet. There were so many things that Harry could say about Taylor's writing ability, her music, her singing, her talent in general. She “was” the music industry, as they say. She went on stage, and the moment she got up there, she thanked her boyfriend and Harry's heart plummeted. It was fine. He knew she had a boyfriend. He wasn't insane. His date wrapped her arm around his waist. He smiled at her gently, but his eyes never fully left Taylor's face. He couldn't even properly accept that his date was actually his girlfriend at that very moment. Taylor was his focus. His all. His everything. As she had been, for far too long. Taylor's eyes went from her own boyfriend's right to Harry's, and it all shifted. If she hadn't been so aware of the cameras, Harry had the odd feeling she'd have left her eyes right on his.

The acceptance speech was nothing short of amazing, but her speeches always were. He clapped along with everyone else, but his heart was racing. As she was getting ready to leave the microphone, she said “We said it was just goodbye for now.” And walked off. She didn't even look in his direction, and everyone dismissed it because it was lyrics for one of her songs. But Harry's heart began pounding harder and he couldn't hear anything else. His girlfriend was saying something to him, but he couldn't hear her. He sank to his chair, his anxiety washing over him.

And I won't confess that I waited, but let the lamp burn as the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned cause love's never lost when perspective is earned and you said you'd come and get me, but you were twenty-five and the shelf-life of those fantasies has expired. Lost to the “lost boys” chapter of your life. Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried to hold on to the days when you were mine but the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

Taylor walked right to her boyfriend, who was looking at her, a confused expression on his face.

“Was the last line in the speech we practiced, babe?” He asked quietly. Taylor shook her head. “No, sometimes I just feel inspired. I'm not really sure what came of it, but it made me feel better to say it.” She smiled at him, and he gave her a puzzled smile back. He shrugged and spoke

“I'm going to go get a drink, do you want something?” She thought about it for a moment and spoke “Maybe some white wine?” Her boyfriend nodded and kissed her cheek and walked away. There was an interlude at that moment and Taylor carried herself over to Harry, who was alone now. She saw he was sitting in a chair, and not standing, and that his date had gone. She knew that his “date” was his girlfriend, but she couldn't put that label to it, for her own heart couldn't handle it. She smiled at the beautiful man in front of her.

“Are you okay, Harry?” She asked, leaning in to hear him reply. “I'm feeling a bit anxious, honestly.” He said, meeting her eyes. Those eyes had always had some kind of spell on Taylor, and she couldn't help but get a bit lost in them. Her twin flame, sitting in front of her, just out of her reach. She knew she should walk away. She knew that Harry knew that last line had been for him. They were never going to be truly over; they were always going to walk that line. She smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It'll all be okay.” She said, and he gave her a smile that she had once coined as his “cheshire grin”. Her heart shuddered. She swallowed hard and spoke

“I better go. It's really good to see you, Harry.” She turned to leave and heard him say quietly

“And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again.” She would have turned around, had her boyfriend not been walking toward her. The next presenter came on the stage, and she walked away, glancing momentarily back at Harry, her eyes willing him to see that she'd always need him.

•fin•

I feel a *little* weird about two celebs so I may focus in the future about Harry x Y/N or Taylor x Y/N type things. We will see.

[dengswei]

i’m devastated

[vigilvntes]

Stop Talking - Adrian Chase x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: i wrote this in half an hour after i saw someone hc adrian as a talkative sub :) enjoy!

Warnings: slight nsfw, nothing too graphic though. language.

Word count: 700+

••••••••••••••••••••

"Hey, do you think Eagly really hugged Peacemaker?" Adrian asked from below you.

You paused and glanced down at him, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "What?"

His cock was buried deep inside of you, and Chris's bullshit story about his pet eagle was preoccupying his mind at that very moment.

He shrugged, letting out a quiet 'oof' as you continued rolling your hips, your hands pressed on his chest, "I-I'm just saying, that I don't think It's bullshit. Eagly is his best friend. Obviously I'm on the best friend list, but I'm only his best friend of all people."

You stopped, again, "What's your point?"

Adrian sighed, his hand resting on your hip, "I just think we need to stop discrediting his story. Eagly's smart, and he really missed Chris while he was in prison. I mean, we all know that Chris' dad wouldn't hug Eagly, or pay much attention to him. He was probably touch starved." Adrian said, looking up at you with the utmost sincerity in his eyes.

"Adrian. I'm feeling pretty fucking touch starved right now, and I'm about to get hangry." You warned, hoping he would get the message that the last thing you wanted to think about while he was balls deep in you was Chris and his pet eagle.

"Oh right." He nodded, giving you a shy smile, "Got it."

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to grace your features. It was far from your first time having sex with Adrian, and you knew his mind had a tendency to wander.

It was endearing for the most part, but right now you were desperately horny, with his cock literally inside of you, and you needed him to shut up so you could fuck him good.

So, you leaned down to kiss him, closing your eyes and moaning against his mouth as you rode him slowly, relishing in the silence.

He let out a shaky breath, his hand grabbing at your ass almost absentmindedly. When you opened your eyes you realised he was staring off into space.

"Dude, can you just drop the fucking eagle thing?" You snapped, breaking him away from his thoughts.

Adrian stared up at you with wide eyes, "Sorry." He said quickly.

"It's clearly bullshit, anyway. I don't know why you believe everything he says." You mumbled, shaking your head.

"Look," He started, "I know it seems far fetched-"

"Completely." You deadpanned, folding your arms across your chest.

"But I don't see why he'd lie about it."

You rolled your eyes, "Because he has a weird complex where he has to impress everyone he meets at all times. Even if that means lying about an eagle hugging him."

"I think you're underestimating Eagly."

"Oh, yeah? Well if Eagly hugged him, then why isn't there any proof? I've seen his camera roll. It's full of pictures of Eagly. Surely the hug would've made for the cutest picture, so why isn't there any pictures?"

Adrian scoffed, "Come on, that's your argument? Easy explanation, he didn't have his phone with him."

"Okay, but why wouldn't-..." You went quiet. Why the fuck were you even arguing with him about this? Especially with his cock still rock hard inside of you?

"(Y/N)? Are you okay?"

You nodded, knitting your eyebrows together, "Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. I just... I don't know why I'm arguing with you about this since I... don't really give a fuck."

You climbed off of him, hearing Adrian whine your name, "Hey, where are you going?" He asked, probably worried that he had disappointed you, and you were going to take off back to your own apartment.

You pulled the bedsheets back, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just gonna go to sleep."

Adrian's face fell into a pout, "But we were... What about the sex..."

"Dude, you spent the entire time running your mouth about Chris and his pet eagle!"

You expected him to argue, but to your surprise, he didn't. "Yeah, my bad." He admitted, giving you that charming, boyish grin.

You groaned, opting just to roll over and hope sleep would take over as soon as possible. However, you felt the bed shift.

Adrian slotted himself into bed behind you, draping a strong arm across your waist. "Hey..."

"What?"

He buried his face in your neck, "I can think of a way to put my mouth to use." He suggested, his hot breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine.

"Oh really? Does it involve talking?"

A pause. "I mean, I guess it can. I wouldn't rule it out-..."

"Adrian..." You warned.

"Nope. No talking." He said quickly.

"Fine. But this better be the best orgasm I've ever had or I swear I'm never having sex with you again." You threatened, only half joking.

"Understood." He mumbled, turning you onto your back just before his head disappeared under the sheets.

Safe to say, you were definitely going to be having sex with Adrian again.

[chaoticneutralwriter]

GD!Jimin Extras: Golden Hour

As they say, taking a picture lasts longer.

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, fluff, romance, angst, slow-burn

word count: 2.2k

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

A snapshot of the days before The Storm

A/N: Shout out to @azulamakesmeblank​ because this was partially inspired by this ask! As promised, a fluff chapter before the literal shit storm that’s about to take place in the story (butisitreallywhenyoureadthelastlineofthispromptwhat:’)) I hope you enjoy it! it’s kinda half edited dkfhgha I love you guys as always for your support and patience for this story! 💖💖💖💖

Tags: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​ @indiesy​ @disn3yfreak @oerangdoongi @definitelynotshady​ @youmaiiwasherebeforeu​ 

You arrive at the front door a little too breathlessly in your haste. It should be embarrassing but blaming your increased pulse on your lack of fitness has your mind and, ironically, your heart resting easier than having to think that you're actually half-nervous and half-excited to see Jimin again.

Even though you literally saw him just yesterday.

You really need to pull yourself together better; you'd rather not have a repeat of pouring tomato sauce all over the counter because your hands got too shaky from Jimin watching you cook dinner (and after you insisted on him not needing to do anything too!)

You take in a fortifying breath, appearing to be squaring up to take the final stand in saving the world instead of simply seeing your boyfriend for what's essentially a stay-in dinner date. You punch in the pass code to the lock pad with practised ease, almost not giving enough time for the beep to chime as you push the door open.

“Jimin?” You call out in greeting once you toe off your shoes and slip on your pair of house slippers. Your eyes scan over the vast living room, spotting the head of raven locks peeking out from the end of the couch. Stepping closer, a smile sneaks its way onto your lips when you realize that he's most likely resting, given his lack of response. Quietly, you step into the kitchen area to set down your bags of grocery on the counter before you make your way to peer over the back of the seat. You're instantly smitten at what you see.

The sun is beginning to make its descent below the horizon, dying the clouds in an ombre of fiery oranges, pinks and reds against the remnants of soft pale blue sky. Thanks to the generous amount of window space the penthouse has, the golden glow easily washes over the interior of the living room and bathes everything with its light; Jimin being no exception.

It cascades over his skin like honey, high-lighting the bridge of his nose, the tops of his cheeks, and the shape of his cupid's bow. It makes his long lashes stand out so delicately and the equally dark strands of hair that falls gently over his forehead. Your fingers itch to sweep them away yet at the same time, you don't dare risk disturbing this sleeping beauty.

So unconsciously, you silently settle yourself on the top of the couch, resting your elbows on the cushion with your head propped up in your hand.

He looks so completely relaxed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped over his stomach. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbow, forearms toned and the first few buttons undone to expose a teasing view of his collarbones while black slacks hug his thighs perfectly (as per usual). If someone were to take a picture of him right now and slap on some big fashion name on it, you're pretty sure anyone who would see it would believe it to be a legit advertisement or a cover of a magazine.

Now that the thought has crossed your mind, temptation begins to rear its head. From the beginning, it's a no brainer what you imagine one would do given the opportunity of having a guardian demon that looks like the carbon copy of your favourite idol; do whatever you can to prevent said demon from stepping out into the world and risk slandering the actual person they're parading around as, or indulge in your wildest fantasies now that you have the means.

It's....a rather unique position to be in, with a plethora of mixed feelings to say the least.

After the initial shock of it wore off (which was really just taking three business day to process it all), you've come to the conclusion that this whole thing was, more than anything, weird. Some people might be able to turn a blind eye and though you're grateful that he had decided to look like Park Jimin from BTS, no matter how good of a disguise it was, it still doesn't change the fact that it's not Jimin.

You were grateful, but it made you a little resentful towards him.

With such a stark contrast, it's as if all of the good things you associated with that face had been sullied for something colder and unfeeling. You hated that he had chosen to use someone like Park Jimin – the perfect example of a good human being – to mask his much more sinister nature. You were sure it was part of some sick joke, and it felt...wrong.

Like you've lost part of a safe space in your world to the uglier side of the universe.

So in an attempt to preserve Jimin's good name in your heart, you were adamant in keeping your guardian demon at arms' length, hence why doing something as simple as taking a picture with him was out of the question. Not only would it not be in good faith, you can't begin to imagine what would happen if it got out to the world somehow.

And you succeeded....in the most unexpected way possible.

Maybe it was the deep rooted connection you had for Jimin, but there was always, without a doubt, a part of you that was soft to him. At first it had irked you, however over time, you realized it allowed for you to see another part of him that you wouldn't have otherwise. It made you open up to the idea that....he's not as bad as he seems.

You were afraid of losing a piece to your safe space when really, you ended up gaining an entirely new one instead, one that had become just as important.

So maybe that's why, as the longer you stared at Jimin (who's not Jimin but that doesn't mean he's worth anything less), the more you wanted to preserve this memory of him to keep for yourself. It's selfish you know, but things have changed, you've changed, and this is too good of a chance to pass up.

Your phone is out, hands steady as you pull up the camera and you want to laugh at how the image on your screen does no justice in capturing just how ethereal the sight before you is (of course it doesn't, should you really be surprised?) That doesn't stop your finger from tapping the snap button, because as they say, taking a picture lasts longer. The shot is satisfactory enough, getting him at an angle that show him from the waist up. You wonder if you can get another one, this time a little wider....

Well, you'll never know if you'd ever get the shot because your guardian demon chooses to wake up at that moment, locking piercing eyes with you through the phone. You immediately freeze.

There's a pause on his end before you see him pinpoint exactly what is going and a sly smirk tugs imperceptibly at the corner of his lips. “Cherub....” He greets, the low drawl sultry and irises pools of rich melted chocolate.

You gulp, straightening up while trying to inconspicuously put away your phone, a sheepish grin stretching across your face. “Rest well....?”

Jimin pretends to hum in deep thought, shifting so that he's facing more comfortably towards you. “For a good while yes....until my demon senses started tingling, telling me I was being watched. Should I be mildly concerned that you like watching me sleep?”

You scoff, “I don't always watch you sleep.”

“And you totally weren't snapping stalker photos of me.”

Your jaw drops, affronted but you don't go on to deny the claim. “Hey, calling them stalker photos is a stretch. And I'm just saying this because this was the only time I've ever – oof!”

Without warning, his hand had shot out to grab a hold of one of your wrist hanging over the back and with a strong tug, you fall face first onto his chest, an arm encircling you to keep you in place.

“Whatever you wanna call it, doesn't change that I'm still going to charge you for them.” You hear him playfully chastise above you. When you tilt your head up, you see him quirk an eyebrow at you expectantly. You blink, then roll your eyes, pretending to be inconvenienced by his stinginess, as if you're not ready to give him everything if he so much as breathes a word of it.

“Alright, what do you want?”

Jimin doesn't say anything in response, simply staring at you with those bottomless eyes, a smoulder simmering beneath their surface that it has you drowning in their depths. He watches you, unperturbed by your squirming (actually amuses in it) before you practically hear him purr, “What do you think I want?”

Your heart easily skips a beat (or more) and you're sure he can feel it beating frantically from your chest to his. While you're internally combusting, Jimin remains the picture definition of smug, free arm still propped behind his head the same time the other is wrapped around your waist, your face heating at the way you feel his thumb stroke at the strip of warm skin peeking out thanks to your shirt riding up a bit in the tumble.

He's actually infuriating, you think. Why's he gotta be so damn good at what he does?! You don't think he's even trying. Ugh, get it together, this is nothing new so it's not even a big deal! You can be cool about it too!

Giving yourself a chaotic pep talk apparently is what helps you find the courage to scooch up until you're able to land a chaste peck on the centre of his lips. Before you can fully withdraw, you already see the unimpressed look Jimin is shooting your way.

“I know you can do better than that.”

You puff, chewing on your lower lip into a pout; the deadpan in his voice makes you grumble at being called out, your neck and the tips of your ears burning now. Seeing you so flustered though, Jimin couldn't help but be endeared, then finally decide to ease up on the teasing he's been relentlessly subjecting you to. Slowly, he lowers the arm behind his head to gently take a hold on your chin, bringing your attention back to the adoring smile softening his features.

“Pretty cherub,” He coaxes, “Won't you give a little sweet treat for me?”

It takes everything in you to suppress the small whimper that wanted to jump out from the base of your throat at hearing those words. Whether it's teasing, cocky Jimin or loving, doting Jimin, you really aren't built to handle any of them at all, seemingly defaulting to a blushing mess no matter how hard you try be unfazed. Which is why after a moment of resigning to your fate, accepting that there was no point resisting when your heart and body have already betrayed you, do you close your eyes and give in wholeheartedly.

He welcomes you, carefully lets you mould your lips to his for a proper kiss and you helplessly melt against him. You don't think you can ever get used to the feeling but it's like Jimin doesn't mind one bit, pace unhurried to savour every press like it’s your first. Your mind becomes muddled the longer it goes on, and when you feel the swipe of his tongue, you're nearly gone. But as tempting as it is, you can't get too carried away here – you still have dinner to cook!

You allow yourself a few tantalizing licks before you part with great reluctance. Through hazy eyes you meet Jimin's, the little breath you have hitching from the sight of his swollen, moistened lips and dark brown irises now glowing a muted maroon, on the verge of igniting into full blown desire.

“Can't have you spoiling dinner so early.” You say, then embarrassingly avert your gaze at how your voice comes out raspy and thick.

You miss the way the corner of Jimin's mouth twitch, but catch the mischievous glint that's no doubt from mentioning the word 'dinner'. You put on your best scolding face, smacking his chest lightly in reprimand.

“No.”

“I didn't even say anything.” His incredulous retort is drowned out by the laugh he lets out with it, the sound has you struggling to maintain your 'serious' front.

“You were thinking it.”

“Are you sure it's not you projecting your own thoughts onto me?”

You humphed, about to turn away and get off your personal body pillow but Jimin's hold remains steadfast. He sneaks a quick kiss to your forehead once you settle back down again as a means to placate you, chuckling softly, “Okay, okay, I'll behave.”

You giggle lightly, cheeks pressed into his collarbone as you give an approving hum, cuddling even closer to his person and you both lapse into a comfortable silence, breaths in sync. Outside, the final rays of the setting sun disappears below the city's horizon, taking the warmth of the day along with it.

But you find no lack in that when you're lying here in his embrace, because whereas the sun comes and goes, yours remains unwavering.

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: viii

(M (for now!)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2  ||   chapter 3   ||  chapter 4   ||   chapter 5   ||  chapter 6   ||  chapter 7  ||  chapter 9  ||

masterlist

word count: ~4.7k

realities, huh. 

warnings: descriptions of blood and bodily injury, post-traumatic symptoms, panic/anxiety attacks 

----

oof. wow. here it is, part one of the BIG boy chapter. please mind the warnings on this one!! trauma and post-traumatic symptoms are a big theme in this chapter and the next. 

as an author, these have been some of the harder, more vulnerable chapters to create and i hope that the writing shows this  :’’’^) all that said, enjoy :’^) 

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Keigo was fucked up.

Or he had fucked up.

It was hard to tell the specifics of his predicament, considering how hard he’d hit his head.

 ‘Hawks’ was known for his speed, his skill, and his ability to finish fights off before they even had a chance to truly start. He prided himself on his prowess, the product of his own diligence and meticulous training. Normally, Keigo kept to these high standards without fail and with faltering. 

On the rare occasion he did get injured, it was usually simple scrapes or bruises.

Except, sometimes time, his shortcomings created much more than scratches. 

 His left arm was twisted the wrong way, wrenched from its socket. His skull ached, hair sticking to the back of his neck and cold.

Keigo blinked slowly, vision tilting and blurry against the asphalt he’d crashed onto. He’d sent his feathers to finish off what was left of the fight, knowing that he was, bodily, down for the count.

It hadn’t started as a large fight, notably. It shouldn’t have gotten so bad. The first alert he’d received just made it seem like petty burglary. Quickly after arriving on the scene, it escalated into an entire firefight spanning several blocks. 

He’d been one of the first heroes there, naturally. It wasn’t hard to disarm and pin most of the villains down, but quickly, things got out of hand. Figures forming from the afternoon’s shadows, quickly turning the simple de-escalation into an all-out brawl. 

Keigo pushed himself from the filthy ground, coughing up spittle and blood on the blacktop below. It wasn’t from an internal injury, he knew, just a bitten tongue and cheek that made the drippings of his mouth pink and cloudy. 

He sat up, forcing himself to his feet as more heroes arrived, finishing the job out of sheer numbers. Mentally, he cursed his mistakes and his stupor. The media circus and bureaucratic bullshit he was undoubtedly going to have to deal with made him audibly groan. Keigo could handle pain without question, but his least favorite parts of his job were the nuts and bolts of it all.

 Maybe it was the head trauma or the fact he’d just gotten sloppy lately, but Keigo didn’t even notice the oddly large amount of shattered glass at the scene or the shadows that loomed and weaved without rest nearby, though they never moved to the offensive. 

...

You sat on your couch, boot propped up (as usual), and a pillow hugged in your arms. 

Typically, you weren’t one to watch the news, but the moment you’d seen the alert from your phone about ‘large scale villain attack- Hawks and Miruko on the scene!, you’d rushed to turn on any channel that had coverage.

Which, creating a sense of dread in your gut, was most of them.

You watched the varying camera angles of the fight, squeezing the pillow tightly in your arms like the pressure would comfort you.

 The fear and terror was such a contrast to the absolute bliss of the first couple of weeks of you and Keigo’s relationship.

During that time, your text-based communication hardly changed, still ambiently throughout the day and including the exchange of many memes and well-placed photographs and selfies. 

The messages had changed, somewhat, truth be told. There was a sweetness to it, soft, warm, and new. The bantering never stopped, but woven within each of your words were small, tender lines that were new to you both.

Wonderfully new.

You found that Keigo was particularly affectionate over text, but it was nothing compared to him in-person.

You hadn’t really expected him to be clingy. Not based on the way he texted and talked previously and how he was generally portrayed by the public.

But god, was he.

He came over several other nights, always bearing food, drinks, and a bright smile. He wouldn’t even think of settling for the evening in the comfort of your couch (or bed) until you’d been showered in kisses and teasing touches, always seeming hungry, maybe even starved. 

He was careful, however, to never go too far or touch too much. 

When you two would finally settle on the couch, usually finding yourself strewn over each other in some way, Keigo would continue heaping on affection in any way he could, subtle or otherwise. You returned the gestures, giving your own too.

You craved the heat of his body in the same way he hungered for yours. 

You found that, as the nights would wear on, he tended to slip his rough hands under any top you might be wearing, settling his grip on your sides or back. He’d either press and massage, or just ambiently draw shapes. At first, you thought it was some sort of sexual preamble, expecting his touch to drift higher and hungrier.

 It took you a night or two of it to realize it wasn’t like that at all— 

Keigo just craved contact.

It all made sense, though your revelation surprised you a bi at first. 

One night, with his head in your lap, you had simply hummed out, “I never thought you’d be touch-starved.”

Keigo hummed as you ran your nails around the shell of his ear, “Mind elaborating on that one?”

“You’re always touching me when we’re together,” You replied simply, heart squeezing at the little twinges of anxiety you could see forming around Keigo’s eyes. “Not that it's a bad thing— I really love all of it, it’s just sweet. I didn’t think you’d be so affectionate and touchy. I would dare to say, it's cute.”

That comment turned Keigo’s cheeks bright red, though you hardly got much of a chance to tease him about it before he was on you with another wave of soft kisses and squeezes.

Maybe, you were a little touch-starved yourself.

And definitely, surely, falling into each other simply and sweetly felt like heaven. 

 ...

 But all of that syrupy goodness was gone, the flavor of it stale and rotten.

All you could focus on was your TV screen as Hawks was being pulled from an alleyway. The camera angle was poor, the quality shaky, but the picture was clear as day to you.

Keigo was walking, barely, most of his weight bared into Miruko’s side. He looked half-dead when he first emerged, limbs twisted painfully and face downcast.

He brightened up a moment later. You weren’t even sure that anyone would’ve caught the change in his expression if they didn’t know him as intimately as you did.

 Your chest tightened painfully when he gave his most dashing smile, pearly white teeth stained with blood that was rushing from a wide cut on his forehead. The juxtaposition of him being purely fucked up mixed with the shining expressions he was flashing at the media made your stomach churn with dread.

He’s hurt.

And it seems bad.

You chewed your bottom lip until it ached. 

The newscast kept playing, showing the wreckage of the scene, all of the hurt civilians— it was a few cities over, but you swore you could hear the sirens just outside of your window.

You dug around for your phone, typing out a message to Keigo, fingers shaking as you did.

 [you]: hey i saw about the attack? how are you doing?

 Texting him was the bare minimum, wasn’t it? If you could, you’d call. But based on the way he was reported to have been taken to a nearby hospital, he wouldn’t be answering his phone any time soon. 

It didn’t feel like enough, but what more could you do?

You felt uncomfortably powerless.

A very lucid, perhaps cruel part of your mind rang out amid your quiet panic:

Get used to it.

 You fell back into the cushions, unable to turn off the screen, though unable to do anything other than watch and churn. 

 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 Keigo didn’t have a great recollection of the day's events after sustaining his fairly significant head injury, not to mention the shattering of the bones in his right arm and a few in his left leg. Not to mention his sorely dislocated shoulder. 

Pain blotted things out memory, he knew.

Hospital trips were few and far between for Keigo, but in the unfortunate circumstance he was stuck and strung up with wires and IV tubes, he was more than well taken care of. 

He was aware, somewhat, of the Commission’s hold on the scruff of his neck, though complacent in it. His good attitude and impeccable, nearly-perfect performance earned him the best medical care they could provide. 

Some sweet girl, a student from the west, was brought in to heal his wounds. Healing quirks of any significance were rare, so it was always interesting to see how they worked and manifested.

The girl’s quirk came at the price of any energy his body had, but he was completely patched up in a number of minutes. Fatigue be damned, he was happy to be quickly and easily put back together. He made sure to put on his best camera-ready smile as the girl traced symbols on the backs of his hands, fingers shaking and shyly smiling.

She was probably starstruck, all things considered. Meanwhile, Keigo was exhausted and out of it.

All through it, all of it, the actual fight and subsequent medical nightmare, he had slipped into a far different mindset than the one he’d been occupying for the last couple of weeks. 

Consequently, he hadn’t thought of you at all. 

You didn’t even cross his mind. 

Keigo could’ve blamed it on hitting his head, but that wouldn’t be entirely fair or truthful. 

All the same, the absence would burn later. 

...

Keigo flashed a dopey smile to the door of his hospital room when he spotted a familiar puff of bright yellow hair. 

Despite his stupor, familiarity still resonated. Besides, his PA stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the greyscale scrubs and antiseptic. 

“Akane! I knew you’d never be far in my time of need,” Keigo relaxed against the hospital bed he was still resigned to. He was to be discharged as soon as possible for the bevy of press reports he would had to complete. Not to mention the mountains of paperwork he’d probably have to file and sign. 

Akane kept a stern but humored expression as she shooed a nurse out of Keigo’s room. She was shorter than most, face cut with sharp angles and high ridges. They were dressed immaculately as always, a well-tailored black suit with crisp-looking dress shoes. All professionalism, trained and honed by the Commission in a similar way to Keigo, though it was implicitly recognized. 

“You’ve got a press conference in thirty with Miruko,” Akane didn’t answer his greeting, though Keigo could tell by their quick nod that it was at least acknowledged. They rolled a small suitcase next to the bed. “Extra hero costume in there. I called your normal hair and makeup, they’ll be in a few minutes after I leave. It’s been a while since you’ve been this injured in a fight, so put on a good show for everyone, won’t you?”

Akane’s sarcasm always brought a smile to his face, contrasting so starkly with their well-pressed hems and seams. 

Keigo quickly sat up, dropping his feet to the cold linoleum below, “Always a show.”

He quickly began to re-robe into his new garments, tired mind returning to its trained roots. 

 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 You had been watching the newscast for hours, probably (definitely) against your best interest.

You’d have plenty of time to kick yourself for it later.

You couldn’t stop watching the repetitive footage and bland media, despite the report that ‘Hawks’ was safe, well and receiving treatment. 

Until you saw him, you couldn’t rest—- Or that’s what it felt like, anyway.

The image of him bloodied felt painfully etched into the forefront of your mind. The contours and highlights of Keigo’s wounds were uncomfortably bright and hot, nestled next to swirling images of your own. Uncomfortably vivid sensations and colors of your own stitched-up wounds that once wept blood themselves.

If you steeped in it all too deeply or for too long, your breathing would quicken, memories unbridled in the way they sucked down.

Sweat dripping down your brow, you willed your breath even and slowly despite how you definitely were having trouble handling what you were experiencing. 

As the evening wore into night, you remained wired.

You convinced yourself, despite the thorns that ran deep, you would be able to rest once you saw Keigo well. 

Eventually, there was an announcement for a late press conference, a conclusion to the media frenzy.

You knew you’d stay up for it, no matter how long it took to air. You knew he was fine, it had been confirmed over and over throughout the coverage, but it wasn’t enough.

You just need to see him.

Then you’ll be fine.  

Keigo is fine.

No amount of reassurance comforted you. You were sinking too deeply in your throes, ungrounded and crackling within your own fragile mind. 

The memories of blood and gore and hot, white fear rolled over you, suffocatingly close to how you’d felt less than a month prior. 

On the cold cement floor of the tea shop, you had Keigo’s feather, the knowingness that he would be there.

Yet, now?

You were alone in your dim apartment. 

No Keigo.

No villains.

Just you and your skull. 

 You had to pull yourself back when you felt your quirk begin to activate with your adrenaline, thankful for the low stimulation of your apartment, and the pillow in your arms being exchanged for the plushie Keigo had gifted you. You forced yourself to ground, counting your breaths, and holding yourself together. 

(Maybe the trauma of your own run-in was deeper than you wanted to acknowledge.)

You pushed the thought aside as the live footage of the press conference began. It was better to compartmentalize it all, wasn’t it? Why not shove it back where it was easier to not deal with? You’d get a therapist or something.

If Keigo is okay, you’ll be okay. 

The press conference decor was coated with the diamond insignia of the Public Safety Hero Commission, along with a few sponsors and nearby police departments. Local heroes and police officers sat around microphones with plastic waterbottles, ringing around the focal points of the events:

Keigo and Miruko. 

Seeing him, perfectly in uniform and switched-on didn’t make you feel better.

If anything, it made you feel worse. 

Before everything, when he was just your regular you pined after, you saw and heard of him doing heroic duties all the time.

But, it was different when Keigo was your partner, yet living an entirely different reality from yours. In the safety of your apartment, and formerly the teashop, that line of difference was somewhat blurred, or, it at least appeared to be.

But while Keigo was shiny and dazzling, charismatic and blunt as ever on the stage of the conference, the contrast turned polar. 

As there was a jeer of laughter, Keigo grinning as Miruko clapped a hand on his back, your stomach rolled. 

Seeing him fine and good-as-new wasn’t soothing.

It was like pouring moonshine on a brush fire. 

Every moment of the conference highlighted the separation between the two of you, the feeling of fear and now loss so strongly in your mind, it started to taste like the tannin of a rotten wine . 

The concoction was made even viler as the memories of injuries didn’t fade or falter.

Your chest ached.

 The press conference droned on in front of you, but none of the content of it registered. It was all sickly background noise to your own pains

You pressed the plushie against your stomach, ignoring the phantom stabs of rancid-yellow that traced up your leg from your booted foot. 

...

“From what we can surmise, there’s activity of several different villain groups in this area that are connected. This incident is related.”

...

You were getting to yourself, you had been all evening. The problem was you couldn’t climb out— 

Not if you weren’t honest and self-aware.

Too bad you were actively spiraling away from anything even close to the latter and former. 

...

“There is much we don’t know at this time, but it is clear there must be further investigation into the roots of the attack.”

...

You recognized, even then, that Keigo was going to be in harm's way because of his job, constantly. He was always in danger.

It just felt different, having to see it play out in front of you, isolated from him in all ways except the glimmer he showed the cameras and the gore he bore prior. 

The absences burned. 

 Your gaze moved to your phone, the device still dormant. 

With a thick, sticky swallow, you resigned yourself to sitting back into the cushions of your couch, spiraling and numbing as you had been hours. 

 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 Following the press conference, Keigo had one priority— 

Sleep.

Despite Akane’s nagging that they ‘really needed to talk to him’, Keigo was exhausted after being healed and wanted nothing more than to go home and rest for as long as he could make himself lay still. 

Maybe, he could’ve handled a patrol (if he had had anything significant of his wings left), but he could not stand the idea of dealing with bureaucratic bullshit in his wrung-out state. 

At this admission, Akane sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Fine, but you need to come to the office as soon as possible,” Akane seemed exasperated after such a long evening (now night), of dealing with the attack. “Seriously, or your publicist is going to kick both of our asses.”

Keigo didn’t ponder too far into the topic of whatever Akane needed him for. Far too mentally wiped-out to bother with what was undoubtedly bureaucratic bullshit. 

He rolled his eyes, sending a feather forward to trigger the automatic doors ahead, “I’ll be sure to come in— It’s not like I don’t have a backlog of paperwork to finish.”

“That too,” Akane sighed, pausing outside of the doors, just dimly lit under the lip of the entrance of the building. “Feel better, quick. And please, stay safe.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow, “You know I always am. I’ll see you around tomorrow, bright and early.”

Keigo flew away so quickly, he didn't notice Akane’s pinched expression and set jaw and she waved goodbye. 

 ...

Nearly featherless and on the edge of total exhaustion, Keigo dragged himself back to his penthouse. His mind and body ached, his thoughts messy and disorganized. 

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar state, though he didn’t get to it often. 

He had ample training to not get like this. The fuzziness he was clouded by should’ve been tossed aside easily; he blamed his own overcast on the healing he received.

(And, not that he, perhaps, had more on his mind as of late) 

More on his mind meant more to forget. 

It wasn’t until he toweled off from a quick shower that he even looked at his phone. 

It wasn’t until he saw your single text that you even came to his mind.

Keigo called you nearly instantly, jaw going tight.

It made sense that he’d forget, he rationalized. 

The portion of his psyche that was trained to be a hero was the same part that struggled the most with his feelings for you. All of the affection, validation, and deep admiration (and perhaps more) was slowly but surely allowing long-dormant parts of him to awaken— 

Yet, all of the new roots and growth aside, he’d forgotten about you in the chaos of the day. 

Maybe a passing, subconscious twinge in his gut, but otherwise? Nothing. 

A bit of guilt chewed him as the line began to ring. 

 You laid across your couch, curled up with the plushie in your arms. The news reports played like white noise, your mind long having gone to gum and static. You alternated between different horrors of memory and sensation. 

The buzzing and shrill sound of your ringtone made your jump, pulling you from your stupor.

 [birdboy <3] calling...

 You immediately picked up the call.

“Keigo?” You asked, trying to ignore the continual light shaking of your hands. 

“Hey, dove,” His voice was cool and calm. “Sorry, I just saw your message now. I figure you saw all the news, but I’m all good, no worries! How are you?”

Oh.

Was it that easy?

The gears in your skull turned far slower than you wanted them to.

He’s fine, (Y/N).

He’s so unbothered. 

Everything is fine.

You tried to comfort yourself, taking a few methodical breaths.

“Dove? Are you there?”

Get your shit together.

“Yeah, I am.” You shook your head. “I was worried, that’s all. My bad. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“The news really plays things up, huh?” Keigo laughed with a sigh, scratchy from the speaker. “Sorry about the media circus. They like the drama.”

“Uh-huh.” You replied, feeling yourself begin to spin all over again.

Drama.

Dramatics.

...

Calm down.

It wasn’t that simple.

“Hey, dove, are you alright?” Keigo spoke casually from the line. Maybe there was some concern in his tone (or you just wanted there to be). You couldn’t fully tell.

You sank back into the couch, bending your good leg into your chest, “I was just worried, is all. I freaked myself out.”

“I’m sorry about that, angel,” Keigo clicked from the phone. “I don’t get banged up too often. Besides, they always stitch me back together quickly! It’s just like this sometimes.”

“‘It’s just like this sometimes’,” You repeat mechanically, processing so slowly it was painful. Your voice sounded far off— 

You felt like you were drowning.

Why couldn’t you handle seeing him hurt?

It’s part of his job. 

Why does this all feel so bad?

 “Can you come over?” You asked, praying that he’d say yes, and maybe, maybe, you could have your fears be assuaged with some contact. Some support— 

“Sorry, dove, the healer they got for me really drained me,” Keigo yawned from the other side of the line. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay. But, tomorrow is just an office day for me, so I can come by after?”

Your heart sank in your chest, faster and harder than you could try to make yield.

“That works,” You replied, despite how rotten you felt. “Take care, okay? Get some rest.”

You hung up abruptly, not waiting for his reply, and lowering your head.

Tears drip from your eyes, soaking the plushie in your arms as you finally let out the sobs you had been holding back for hours.

 ...

 Despite Keigo’s exhaustion, he knew that the entire phone call was so off. You’d never hung up that quickly before, and you sounded a bit off.

None of it sat right. 

He shot off a kind text or two before knocking out for the night, nodding off just after sending them.

 ...

 You hardly slept. 

You felt like you were being eaten alive as the night wore on and the moon remained high.

It was all metastasized, unchecked. Breathing exercises had stopped cutting it at some point, your own thoughts and methodical actions lost in the soup of it all. 

You ‘rationalized’. 

He’s a fucking hero, he’s going to get hurt. It’s part of the job and you need to get over it.

That doesn’t matter! It’s still terrifying to see someone you care about super injured!

You knew all of that though.

None of it was new.

What was new, and harder to understand, was the storm that had buried itself like a barbed arrow between the two halves of your brain.

The rest of it.

The complex miasma of feelings that were only set off by the events and subsequent feelings you tried to rationalize. 

The mental thunder-cracks kept you tossing and turning, any sleep light and flighty. Your eyes burned and dripped through the entire night, soaking your pillowcase. 

By the time morning light began to shift in from the heavy curtains of your bedroom, you might’ve felt worse than you did the night prior.

Your mouth was dry, tongue tacky, and swollen in your mouth. You forced yourself out of bed, methodically showering despite all of the energy it took with your leg still recovering. 

You felt hazy beyond belief, fatigued, and purely awful.

Quickly, you nested for the day, still damp from your shower and sore from your lack of sleep. Tucking into the couch, you covered yourself with blankets and held the plushie to your chest, not even bothering to turn on the TV.

 Keigo, meanwhile, prepped for his office day. Since his wings were sparse, he made an extra effort for his face. Bit of concealer to brighten his dark circles and smooth out the finer lines around his brow and under his eyes.

It seemed pertinent to cover more, wipe away his anxieties as his gaze flickered to his phone on the countertop of his bathroom.

You’d never responded the night before. You hadn’t said anything— not even giving an indication that you’d seen the message.

Truthfully, now that the drum of the press and his de-facto role had died down, your lack of contact filled him with burning anxiety. 

You two had a habit of texting each other in the mornings, little sweet greetings and the occasional messy selfie that the other adored. Keigo typically woke up earlier than you, but still. 

He gave you a call.

 You robotically picked up on the second ring, hardly looking at your phone and its caller as you held it to your ear, “Hello?”

“Hey, angel!” Keigo’s voice seemed too chipper from the other side of the line. “I just wanted to call and check-in. You just sounded a bit off last night, is all. Are you doing okay?”

“Oh,” You sounded hollow, far-off, and sticky. 

There was a pause, your numbed out psyche far-too slow and miswired to say anything else.

“(Y/N)?” Keigo asked. “Are you there?”

Your name shoved you a bit closer to reality. 

 “Yeah, I am.” You blinked, your name making you twitch, “Sorry, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Awww, since last night too?” Keigo’s wings beat in the background of the call. “Is that why you wanted me to come over?”

Sort of, not really.

Your voice shook as you quickly were losing the will to keep it even, “U-um—”

How do you even explain?

Your quirk spun alive, the feeling of shrapnel and rusted nails running jagged lines down your spine.

You need to be honest.

“I j-just,” You sniffled back tears, though fruitlessly. “I just got really scared.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, holding the phone away from your mouth and praying that Keigo couldn’t hear the muffled sobs you forced to stay in your throat.

 “It’s alright, I’m okay!” He tried to assure you, tensing at the doorway to his balcony. “Everything is totally fine, there’s no reason to be scared.”

You went quiet on the other side of the receiver, all sound muffled and mixed. It made Keigo chew his lip, tightening his grip on the phone.

“I know.” Your voice broke at the same moment as Keigo’s chest tightened. You sounded so hurt. 

It pricked those seldom-used parts of his brain alive. 

It was those weird tingles and shooting bits of cortisol that screamed ‘protect them’. They screamed to life at your distress, hot and bright.

“Dove, are you alright? Are you crying?” Panic seeped into his tone as his feathers rippled from soft to razor-sharp in his instinctual rise. 

“I just got so f-fucking scared,” You choked, voice fizzling on the line. “Keigo, I’m sorry, I just— “

Your voice broke into tears, sobs echoing from the phone.

Keigo’s grip tightened, heart-pounding and feathers vibrating.

He acted before thinking too hard about it. 

“(Y/N), I’m gonna come over, okay? I’ll be there soon,” Keigo assured you, and himself, truthfully as he tore open his balcony door and launched into the sky

 You sputtering out an affirmative as wind-whipped into the receiver. 

Burying your face in your hands, you felt dread weigh you down from the inside out. 

 ||||||||||||||||||||

 ko-fi

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taglist: @thepandapopo @hawksexual @sinclairsamess  @darcia22 @inhalingsoysauce @yee-fxcking-haw @aproperthottie @seasalttrioforever @msgrungie @mia--merc @a-monsters-love @peach-buns-unicorns@amethyst-rose-17 @mega-bastard @an-untamed-rose @ravioliplease @keigosangel @gobestupidelsewhere

(send me an ask if you would like to be added!)

[salmon-sushi]

woops | aobajohsai & fem!reader

summary: Iwaizumi’s day isn’t as bad as he thinks, especially with his friends.

genre: crack(?), just teenagers being teenagers, also platonic relationships!

words: 2.1k

a/n: this piece is largely inspired by @akasuns​‘s amazing manager!fic and i just couldn’t resist writing something for seijoh boys! thank you very much to @dokifluffs​ for giving me helpful advices and proofreading this! i hope you enjoy my first piece aha mwah 🥺🥺💕💕

index

The crispy cold, the mist-ridden foggy morning and the melodious whistle of the winter birds makes the winter morning most charming, in Iwaizumi’s honest opinion. Icicles glittering from barren tree branches in the sunrays, light reflecting off the icy ground and bringing crystalline joys to pedestrians such as himself as he walks to school. Nuzzling his face into his red woolen scarf, Iwaizumi huffs when the frozen air delicately nips on his nose. The warmth of his scarf makes him even drowsier than before and Iwaizumi allows himself to close his eyes for a little bit.

But this is clearly a mistake as he fails to notice the slippery surface of an unsuspecting puddle. He opens his eyes in shock, and he is falling. It suddenly feels like 10 years of his life are gone as he lays, groaning in pain on the wet stone pavement, his heart racing in his chest as his nose and forehead burn. It didn’t help that he is suddenly hyper aware of the people walking nearby him with their footsteps becoming audibly louder than before.

Is he embarrassed that he fell on his face? Yeah. But he’s glad that none of the other pedestrians are bothered to help him up. Sure, he heard some snickers and giggles here and there, but he doesn’t mind it, knowing that he isn’t going to meet any of those people after this.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sees you, his club manager and classmate, looking at him with a worried face and ready to fret over him.

“Don’t come here! I can handle this alone!” he screams in his mind while giving you the sharpest glare he could muster, hoping that you would get the message.

However, you are already used to all of his glares. You ignore his scowl and run towards him with your hands already rummaging the inside of your bag for a tissue to help him wipe his wet face. Before Iwaizumi could warn you not to run, you suddenly feel your body shifting forward, your legs no longer supporting your body. To your horror, your bag’s contents are sent flying towards Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi cringes as your body drops with a thud, your heart pounding loudly against your chest and you can feel the adrenaline rush in your legs. He merely stares at you when you slowly lift your beet red face to meet his subtly panicked eyes as if to say, “See what happens when you don’t mind your own business?”

You can feel your cheeks grow warmer as you press your lips into a thin line. Covering them with your ice cold hands in an attempt to cool down, you stare back at him with teary eyes, “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan!”

Time feels much longer as you stare at each other, until the both of you pale when you hear two familiar voices approaching, discussing intensely about the latest episode of their favourite variety show that airs every weekend on the local television channel as the sound of their footsteps grow closer. “Out of all the people here, why is it always them?” Iwaizumi slams his face onto the ground, making you hiss, “Iwa-chan, stop it!”

“Oh? What do we have here?”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stop their tracks when they find both you and the team’s ace sprawled on the wet pavement with your belongings scattered around Iwaizumi. What makes it worse is that the both of you didn’t make a move to get up and leave the place like normal people would.

This is embarrassing, Matsukawa thinks.

Hanamaki snickers as he takes out his phone to snap a picture of their manager and the ace’s shameful display in public. Hell, he will even make sure to take a picture of Iwaizumi’s red face. “Iwaizumi, nice fall!” he laughs as Iwaizumi groans into the pavement.

Matsukawa sees the threat lies underneath your glare as Hanamaki proceeds to make comments for you to look at the camera and decides that risking your wrath is not worth the fun, even if there would be no blackmail content as good as this. Wrapping his arm around Hanamaki’s shoulder, Matsukawa tries to drag his friend away from the scene, “We should leave them alone, Hanamaki.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving without blackmail material!” Hanamaki cackles, obviously enjoying himself.

While he is busy crouching to find a good angle to capture Iwaizumi’s faceplant on the wet pavement, his left leg suddenly spreads itself to the side and out of panic, he grabs Matsukawa with him.

Their impending fall, however, is cushioned as they land on top of Iwaizumi, who only whimpers in pain.

Widening their eyes in horror, they scurry away from the poor boy in the speed of light before flipping him over. “Shit!” Matsukawa curses, “Iwaizumi is as pale as a ghost!”

“Iwa-chan, no! Don’t give up just yet!” you shout before crawling to grab your heating pad next to Iwaizumi’s legs in order to give him some warmth. You can feel the jagged edges of the pavement scratching your knees, but nothing is worse compared to your friend’s likely death. In the corner of your eye, you could see Hanamaki grabbing Iwaizumi’s hands, rubbing them between his own as he sobs dramatically “You still have a lot more to live, man! Stay with us!”

Iwaizumi didn’t expect the situation to escalate so quickly.

Only a few moments ago, he was hoping for a quiet incident. Like, “Oh, you fell?” then the subject would be dropped and never be spoken again. A one time thing. Only now that he realises that he hoped too much, something he should fix soon. He should have known that he could never have a quiet incident, not when he has the three of you wailing and begging for him to survive.

I kinda want to crawl in a hole and die right now, he muses. His eyes catch several students from the basketball team laughing at the four of you and a group of girls whispering and giggling to each other. He sighs deeply, his whole chest heaving and he closes his eyes.

“Iwaizumi!” “Iwa-chan!” you scream with Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

Matsukawa’s body stiffens as he points a shaky finger at Hanamaki accusingly, “You killed him, bro.”

Hanamaki gasps, turning his face away from Matsukawa in disbelief while raising his hand defensively, “Stop it. Don’t say it, bro!”

You sit up, hands covering your mouth as you gape at Iwaizumi’s still body, “Iwa-chan..”

Matsukawa quickly brings a hand to your back, rubbing it silently in a comforting gesture while Hanamaki slams his fist on the pavement, before turning to Matsukawa with a crazed glint in his eyes. “Fine! But I’m not the only one at fault here,” he begins.

Matsukawa raises his eyebrows, feigning confusion, “What are you talking about, Hanamaki?” He tilts his head, “You’re the one who ended his life.”

Hanamaki growls, “Don’t play dumb with me! You’re just as guilty as I am! If anything-” his voice drops lower, “-you’re the one who ended his life.”

Gasping, you slap Matsukawa’s hand away, feeling betrayed by the boy you called friend. “[Name]-chan, listen–”

“Save it, Mattsun. I never thought you of all people would do this kind of thing,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from Matsukawa. He grits his teeth before turning to Hanamaki, raising both of his hands. A sign of surrender. He looks at Hanamaki with regret in his eyes, sighing, “As expected from my best friend. You got me good, bro.”

Hanamaki kneels in front of Matsukawa, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. His eyes are suspiciously glassy, Matsukawa notes. Perhaps, Hanamaki is a good friend after all.

“Bro..”

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi is fed up with your impromptu drama session. He quickly sits up and readies himself to berate the three of you but the world has better plans to make Iwaizumi’s day worse when a couple of rings startling all of you back into reality. With you helping Iwaizumi up by supporting his slightly throbbing back, thanks to those two, he is not surprised to find Oikawa pedaling on a bike towards your group.

“My, my, what are you guys doing here on the floor?” 

Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa is purposely making his voice loud so everyone would watch their circus show- not that everyone hasn’t already seen the soap opera between you, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but still!

In one tiny corner of Iwaizumi’s heart, he wishes something bad would befall to Oikawa, just because he is grating Iwaizumi’s already thin patience. He also conveniently forgets the old saying that goes, “Be careful what you wish for.”.

Oblivious, Oikawa continues in his airy voice, “I don’t know what you guys will do without me, your very reliable captain. Here, let me help!”

Oikawa clutches the brake of his bicycle and he raises a delicate eyebrow when the brake is not in effect. He clutches the brake harder and only then the realisation sets in- the brake is faulty. I should have walked to school instead, Oikawa smiles in acceptance before his bicycle crashes a bench at the pavement. His body feels very light as he is flung across his friends, seeing their shocked faces and mouths agape makes his heart pound wildly against his chest. Time seems to slow down when you’re falling, he muses. In the seconds it takes him to reach the ground, he knows that it is going to hurt.

His body drops with a loud thump, worrying the four of you. Hanamaki whistles slowly, “Oof, that’s gonna hurt.”

You quickly collect your belongings and shove them into your bag while Iwaizumi and Matsukawa help the poor captain up who might have damaged his pretty face, Hanamaki silently grabs Oikawa’s busted bicycle.

“Oikawa!” he looks at you with a dumb expression when you grab his face in panic, “What? What’s wrong, [Name]-chan?”

A trickle of warmth suddenly drips from his nose and the captain unknowingly sniffs it back. With a disgusted noise, Iwaizumi knocks the captain’s head, “Don’t do that, you idiot!”

Before Oikawa could complain about Iwaizumi’s brute force, you gently plug his nose with a tissue and give him more tissues for him to wipe his bloody hands once Matsukawa and Iwaizumi let him stand on his own. Although Oikawa’s injuries only consist of his bloody nose and hands, you’re pretty sure that he has more injuries on his legs- especially his knees. “I think you need to visit the nurse’s office, just to be sure.”

“Will you be taking care of me, [Name]-chan?” he asks, mustering his saddest face. You only give him an unimpressed look, “Nope, we have class. But, the nurse will take care of you, though.”

Unsatisfied with your answer, he whines and Iwaizumi is quick to knock his head again, which you proceed to scold the both of them, “Leave it, both of you!”

Matsukawa smirks, “It’s what you get for being a dumbass. Who told you to speed down the pavement?”

“I tried to slow down but the brake wouldn’t work!” Oikawa retorts.

“And who told you to not check your bike before using it during winter?” Hanamaki adds in with a grin. He and Matsukawa give each other a high five when Oikawa deflates, failing to come up with a comeback.

“Well– who told you guys to create a soap opera in the middle of the road, huh? I’m only acting as a caring captain would, like, stopping all of you from making a fool of yourselves!” Oikawa glares at his friends and looks at you for backup, which you look away guiltily, making him gasp in betrayal. “[Name]-chan!”

“Sure you are.” Iwaizumi replies, ending the conversation as the five of you continue the walk to school completely poker faced, as if you didn’t cause a scene earlier. Despite the embarrassing incident, Iwaizumi manages to look at the bright side of it. The soft wind gently caressing their cheeks, the red tinges on their noses and ears, which he is sure from the incident, and most of all, he grins into his scarf, the warmth and memory he made with his friends.

Extra:

Just before the gradual slope that leads to the crime scene, Kindaichi and Kunimi stand still as they witness their captain being knocked out from his bicycle. Wordlessly, Kunimi walks the other way to school, perking Kindaichi up.

“Oi, that route is farther to school.” Kindaichi informs his friend.

“Do I look like I want to join them down there?” Kunimi frowns as he jerks his head towards their senpais.

“I bet they’ll rope us in to save themselves from the embarrassment.” He waves his hand dismissively before turning to the other direction to school. Kindaichi looks back at his scrambling senpais before following his friend with no hesitation.

[sanutopia]

On Set [M]

park seonghwa (ateez) x reader

a/n: this is a little long and honestly its pure FILTH. i love park seonghwa but even more, i love daddy park seonghwa :(

word count: 2.5k

genre: smut

** choking, swearing, daddy kink, mirror sex, spanking, degradation, fingering, begging, use of spit as lube (oops), oral (female receiving), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, spitting, blacking out, like four different pet names, i think that’s all oof

you had been good all day. or tried to be at least. you were watching seonghwa during his photoshoot. you were always impressed by the duality he presented during work, seeing that at home, he was the fairly quiet, sweet boyfriend that would give you the gentlest hugs and loved to squish your cheeks. on set, however, he was nowhere near the same person. his glare into the camera was so mysterious and almost arousing. that face.. you’ve seen it more times than you can count. it’s the look he gives you when you’re on the brink of your third orgasm and he threatens to punish you if you cum again without asking. actually, it’s the same look he gave you just a little while ago when you tried to ride his thigh in the dressing room during the second outfit change. 

you sat in the chair diagonally from where he was shooting, so you had a full view of his body and how every outfit the stylist chose for him adorned his toned frame. you sat admiring him for a while, as much as you could take, until you had to excuse yourself to calm down in his dressing room. as you sat on the couch against the wall, you looked at yourself in the vanity’s mirror, which is the same place you had watched him get his hair and makeup done earlier today. your cheeks have been flushed since he denied you of his touch, your skin feels hot, and you’re pretty sure if he says anything to you when he sees you, you’ll cum on the spot. he gets a thrill out of seeing you like this, but he likes to keep instances like these his little secret. 

...which is why he immediately locks the door to the dressing room when he’s finished shooting. he doesn’t turn to look at you as he runs his fingers up the front of his body, loosening the buttons of his shirt one by one. he still has the same glare on his face, and you are slowly starting to become jittery as you watch every move he makes. he makes his way over to the vanity and moves the chair to the side so that he can stand directly in front of the mirror. he finishes undoing the buttons of his shirt and slides it down his arms, throwing it in the seat of the chair. his back is glistening with the slightest bit of sweat from the hot studio lights as he bends slightly to examine his own features, running his fingers through his hair. he’s taunting you. 

neither of you have said a word, but you both know what’s happening as you watch his demeanor shift before your very eyes. he diverts his gaze from himself to you, watching your reflection look back at him. like a deer being hunted, you let him stare down your body until your stomach is turning in anticipation. his eyes meet yours and his mouth turns into a slight smirk. 

“come here, sweetling.” 

you get up from the couch and smooth your dress down. he lightly smiles seeing you so flustered, but he can’t lie about the fact that his ego inflates every time he gets you cornered like this. he reaches down your waist and guides you to stand in front of him, both of you shining in the lights of the vanity. his hand starts at your thigh, tracing small circles where the hem of your dress stops. as that hand works its way under your dress, his other hand is making a path from your waist up to your neck. he keeps his eyes on your reactions, doing everything teasingly and entirely on purpose. 

“are you flustered, baby? you seem on edge today.” he uses his index finger to sweep your hair away from your neck so his hand can take its place. you want so badly to scream and beg him for what you need, but your throat feels like its on fire. you shake your head no as best as you can. his hand that is under your dress moves to palm you over your panties, which are obviously wet at this point. he starts to rub your clothed clit and you can’t help but to get a little breathless. his hand tightens around your neck as he continues his ministrations, his hips grinding against your backside. your dress has ridden up and is resting on his arm and you’ve moved your hands to rest on the edge of the vanity. you let out a whimper you’ve been holding in all day. as he speeds up, your breaths get louder and when you moan at full volume, he pulls his hand away immediately.

with that, a tear drops on to your cheek and you break beneath him. his hand is still under your dress, rubbing your inner thigh, and the other one is still sitting around your neck. his thumb moves up slightly to wipe away the stray tear and he mockingly looks at your reflection in the mirror. 

“what’s wrong? did daddy do something wrong?” he kisses below your ear and you tense up beneath him. 

your answer pushes the boundary. 

“why won’t you give me what i want? i’ve been a good girl all day, please just give me something!” 

his hand quickly reaches up to grab your hair and he pulls your entire body flush against his. your neck is almost hurting at how its bent and resting on his shoulder. 

“i fucking dare you to repeat that. i don’t give you what you want? i don’t give you enough?”

you make no movement in fear of digging this hole even deeper for yourself, so you try to half ass stutter out an apology before his other hand has your dress lifted up and he plants a firm slap against your ass.

“you’re an ungrateful little slut, you know that? there are days i make you cum so many times you can’t remember your own name and you want more?”

his words are venomous rolling off of his tongue, and his breath is so hot in your ear it sends chills down your entire body. you watch him momentarily move away from you so he can slide his pants and underwear off and you mutter out an apology.

“i’m sorry, daddy, i jus-”

“you’re sorry? you should be; i’ve worked my ass off today yet you’re here begging me to let you cum. i don’t think that’s something a good girl would do, do you?” 

his hand slaps your ass again and you answer him pathetically. he moves his hand up to your mouth and uses his thumb to part your lips. when your mouth opens, he shoves both his middle finger and ring finger in, making you use your tongue to wet them. he thrusts the fingers in and out of your mouth, making you gag on them. he pulls them out and moves your panties to the side before shoving both of them in your throbbing pussy. 

as you moan, he speeds up, curling his fingers each thrust. his cock is dripping precum onto your ass and your hand has moved to sink your nails into his wrist. still staring at you in the mirror, he asks through gritted teeth, “is that enough for you? is that enough for your pathetic little cunt?” 

“y-yes daddy, faster please!” he does exactly what you ask (only because you said please) and its not much longer until your head is thrown back onto his shoulder and your eyes are rolling back in your head. his hand moves from your neck to cover your mouth as you scream and shake against him, his fingers still sliding in and out of you. he brings those same fingers up to his own mouth and his tongue slides around them. 

“mmm... if only your personality was as sweet as your pussy...” 

while you’re trying to come down from your high (and trying to keep your legs from giving out) seonghwa is working your dress the rest of the way off, along with dragging your wet panties slowly down your legs. he gets on his knees and helps you to step out of them, and then uses his palm to lightly slap the back of your thigh. 

“hike this leg up for me, darling.” 

you lift your shaky leg and rest it on the counter, slowly moving your hands forward until you’re on your forearms. seonghwa’s hand gives your ass one more good slap before he spreads you out in front of him, gathers the saliva in his mouth, and spits it right into your center. you hum and twitch at the sudden feeling, and he leans back to ask, “do you want daddy to eat your little pussy? its dripping all over my fingers...” 

“please, daddy... i want it so bad..” 

you hear him let out a sigh behind you, “pathetic, honestly.” 

he using his fingers to spread your lower lips apart and immediately slips his tongue in, moving it up, down, and side to side against your clit. one of his hands is resting against your backside while the other is slowly stroking his cock (which is painfully hard at the moment). you’re trying to hold yourself up while he moans against you, bringing you all that much closer to cumming for the second time today. 

“d-daddy.. i’m gonna cum again, please, d-don’t stop!” your breaths start to speed up again and his hand tightens around his cock. he kneads your cheek harder and if possible, moves his tongue faster against you, moaning into your pussy as he tries to hold off from cumming before he’s even fucked you. as your moans get louder, he raises his hand up to spank you once more, harder this time. almost that same second, your upper body collapses onto the counter and you scream into the fold of your arm. ‘fuck’ is the only word coming to mind because he doesn’t stop until you reach behind you and grab his hair with a death grip. when he stands up behind you, he holds your hips up, because the one leg not hiked up onto the counter can and will give out at any moment. he takes a moment to gather your hair once again into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you until you see yourself in front of the mirror. 

“take a fucking look at yourself. you’re such a filthy cockslut.” as he scans your backside and runs his other hand down the arch of your back, you look at your reflection; your pupils are blown wide, your skin is so flushed you look like you have a fever, and your cheeks are tearstained. your hair is a tangled mess that is wrapped around seonghwa’s hand and your entire body is quivering. but you can’t deny that this is the best you’ve felt in a while. 

you feel his cock twitch against your ass as he rubs the head of it against you and you weakly mumble, “i don’t think i can take any more...” 

you’re looking at everything but him as he raises his eyebrows and asks you to repeat yourself. 

“look at me and speak up, sweet. daddy can’t hear you when you mumble.”

you swallow and timidly say it again. “i said i don’t think i can take any more.”

he has the audacity to roll his head back slightly and laugh. “i don’t give a fuck what you think you can take - this is what you begged for, so this is what you’re gonna get. if you really want me to stop, you know what to say.” 

he bends down once again to spit on your cunt and then rub his hand against it. he uses that same hand to prepare his dick as he stands back up straight. he pushes himself into you and hisses through his teeth. “your pussy stays tight for me doesn’t it baby?” 

“y-yes, just for you daddy.” 

before he speeds up his thrusts, he guides you by your ponytail once more to look at yourself in the mirror directly. 

“watch me fuck your pretty little pussy.” 

with each slam into you, you moan out his title, one of his favorite sounds. your eyes stay glued to his hips, watching how smooth, yet rough his movements are. in the past thirty minutes this has been going on, you swear you haven’t had a full breath, and you begin to wonder if you’ll ever get to. he has an iron grip on one of your hips and his teeth are sinking into his bottom lip. as if it is humanly possible, he pistons his cock in and out of you even faster, bringing you even quicker to the edge than you expected. your screams turn into a string of curse words and soon you’re begging him over and over to let you cum just one more time. your body feels as if you’re being stretched to full extent as your third orgasm tears through you. you try to keep your eyes on him while he’s smirking watching you crumble beneath him. he ends up having to reach down to support your entire body, because as you came, you collapsed in his arms. he keeps your leg propped on the vanity and doesn’t slow down one bit while fucking you through your orgasm. he’s groaning just as loud feeling you tighten around him, more than you already were and as you begin to black out, you feel him pull out of you, his cum dripping all over your back and your ass. you stay awake just long enough to hear him tell you its okay and that he’s got you. 

-

when you wake up, you’re laying on the same couch against the wall, dressed now, and you roll onto your side to see seonghwa tucking his shirt into his jeans before putting his shoes back on. he comes over to the couch and kneels in front of you. you reach your hand out to meet his, and he turns your hand and kisses the back of it. 

“how long was I out?” 

he reaches forward to move a loose strand of your hair out of your eyes, “long enough for me to get you ready to go home, do you think you can stand?” 

he helps you move your sore body up off the couch and helps you put your shoes back on and smooth out your dress. 

as he’s strapping your shoes back on, your hands are resting on his shoulders. “seonghwa?” 

“yes, darling?” 

“you’re so good to me... i didn’t mean that you don’t give me enough. i was just needy today, that’s all. missed you.” 

he looks up at you, eyes twinkling like usual. “i know how you meant it...just needed to give you a little attitude adjustment.” 

he stands back up to kiss your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly, your lips. 

“I love you, angel.” 

“I love you too, Seonghwa.”

---------END----------

dear sweet lord ill say it again i love seonghwa 

anywayyyyyy! if you liked this and want more, send me requests by messaging me or through asks!! 

[thelittlebirdthattoldyou]

electric love by borns (like the tiktok challenge) and iwaoi please n thankies (✧ω✧)

oh no now all i can think about is oikawa getting a tiktok and forcing iwaizumi to make them with him

electric love - børns

pairing: iwaizumi hajime/oikawa tooru

content: fluff, love confessions, tiktok challenges apparently

wc: 1112 (i know,, i’m sorry)

-

"Oi, we’re in the middle of practice,” Iwaizumi calls. “Stop messing around on your phone.”

Oikawa jumps, guilty eyes meeting Iwaizumi’s own. “But it’s break time, Iwa-chan,” he protests. “I wouldn’t be on my phone if we were actually playing volleyball.”

Iwaizumi snorts. Oikawa hates taking breaks. He’s infamous for trying to play through them; Iwaizumi can’t count the number of times he’s had to drag Oikawa off the court and force him to drink some water. Usually he’d jump at the chance to resume practice, but he’s been attached to his phone all day. He practically sprints over to it every time he gets a moment of free time, scrolling mindlessly through his feed.

“What are you looking at, anyway?” Iwaizumi asks. He sidles next to Oikawa, craning his head to try to get a look at the screen.

Immediately, Oikawa lifts a hand to shield it from his view. “Nothing, Iwa-chan!” he says, way too quick to be natural. He cups the phone close to his chest… and is that the beginning of a blush starting to curl over his cheeks?

Iwaizumi frowns at him, confused and maybe a little hurt. Oikawa doesn’t often try to hide things from him. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks.

Oikawa huffs. “Is this an interrogation or something? I don’t have to get your approval for everything I want to look at on my phone, mom.”

Iwaizumi’s frown hardens into a glare. “Whatever, asshole.”

Then Coach Irihata blows his whistle and signals for everyone to return to their positions on the court, and Iwaizumi tries his best to push any extraneous thoughts of Oikawa out of his mind.

During their practice game, the two of them are as in sync as ever. But as soon as official practice ends, when Iwaizumi turns to ask Oikawa whether he plans to stay late, he finds that Oikawa is already on his way to the locker room, phone in hand.

They walk home side by side, as usual. Only instead of talking his ear off, Oikawa has his earbuds in and his eyes fixed on his phone. Other than an occasional laugh at whatever he’s watching, he doesn’t make a sound, and it bothers Iwaizumi more than he’d like to admit. Every time he tries to get a glimpse of what’s so amusing, Oikawa inches his phone out of the way.

Finally, Iwaizumi has had enough. “I’m going on ahead,” he says as he quickens his pace. “Don’t walk into traffic or something dumb like that.”

“What - wait!” Oikawa grabs onto his wrist before he can leave. “Wait - I was wondering if you wanted to come over.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. “No offense, Shittykawa, but watching you stare at your phone for hours isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

“It’s not that,” Oikawa says, fiddling with the wires of his earbuds. “There’s… something I want to show you.”

Is he nervous? That’s odd. Against his better judgement, Iwaizumi agrees, cursing himself for the way his heart speeds up when Oikawa smiles.

Oikawa vibrates with excitement the rest of the way to his house, humming and skipping in a way that would be comical if Iwaizumi didn’t find it so endearing. “Does this have anything to do with why you’ve been so weird all day?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Maybe,” Oikawa says. “Don’t worry about it too hard, Iwa-chan. You’ll find out soon.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t miss the strained undercurrent in Oikawa’s voice. Huh.

Oikawa’s parents don’t get home until late on weekdays, so Iwaizumi mutters a low “Pardon for the intrusion” to the empty house when he enters. They leave their shoes at the door and grab a couple of snacks from the kitchen, and then Oikawa leads him up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Alright, what is it?” Iwaizumi asks. “We do have homework, you know.”

“You’re so impatient, Iwa-chan. Give me a minute.” He props his phone up on his desk, the front camera facing them. The interface of the app he’s using looks familiar, but Iwaizumi doesn’t know its name. Between them, Oikawa has always been the one who keeps up with the latest technology.

Oikawa presses some button, and an English song starts to play. Iwaizumi gets too distracted trying to figure out the words to notice how anxious Oikawa looks when he returns to his side. His lips are pressed tightly together, almost turning white.

“You wanted to show me a song?” Iwaizumi asks, incredulous. “What even are these lyrics?”

Baby, you’re like lightning in a bottle.

I can’t let you go now that I’ve got it.

“Shut up,” Oikawa says. “It’s not just the song. There’s this… internet challenge.”

Iwaizumi sighs. “Of course there is. Honestly, when will you stop being so -”

Oikawa leans close and kisses him, so soft that he barely feels it. But it’s enough to make him freeze in place, brain short-circuiting as Oikawa steps back with fear written in every line of his face.

And all I need is to be struck

By your electric love.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa mumbles. “Iwa-chan, say something.”

Iwaizumi ignores him, lifting his hand and pressing it to his lips. “You -” he starts, then stops. “Oikawa, I -”

Oikawa buries his face in his hands, muffling a quiet scream. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have - I don’t know what I was - please tell me I didn’t just ruin everything, Iwa-chan.”

“That…” Iwaizumi’s voice is shaky, and he clears his throat. “That was such a stupid way to confess,” he says. “What if I’d said no? Then you’d have a recording of me rejecting you forever.”

“I know!” Oikawa wails. “You don’t have to rub it in - wait.” He peeks at Iwaizumi from between his splayed fingers. “‘What if’ you’d said no? What does that mean?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, still in disbelief. He holds out his arms. “It means come here, you idiot.”

He should really be prepared for the way Oikawa barrels into him, all 160 pounds of muscle, but the impact still manages to drag a startled oof out of him. “I hate you so much,” Oikawa complains, though it comes out muffled because his face is buried in Iwaizumi’s chest. “So much. You didn’t say anything for so long, and I really thought…”

“I was in shock,” Iwaizumi says. “I’d like to see you try to react normally right after your childhood best friend kisses you out of nowhere.”

“Mmh, I dunno,” Oikawa says, lifting his head to offer Iwaizumi a mischievous smirk. “I think that sounds pretty good, Iwa-chan.”

“You’re so annoying,” Iwaizumi says, but he slots their mouths together again anyway.

[steponmepinkjun]

ok now i gotta know!! what kind of onlyfans content would asra + any of the others you fancy make with mc??

The first thing that pops into my head is Lucio making really hot shaky hand-cam videos of him chasing you through the forest and then when he catches you, you get the most amazing view from the camera being discarded on its side on the forest floor as he pins you down and fucks you hard. Oof, just hot an nasty primal shit, you know?

I feel like Asra would be the most gorgeous, delicious, hot, intimate, very real homemade kind of videos? Like where both of them are flushed and sweaty and very often smiling or giggling while Asra fucks them slow and deeeeeep. The kind of videos were you can see and feel the love between them, and see how connected they are and how good they make each other feel. Whew, I'm sweatin

I think Julian would be entirely too down to do like, live streams where you do nasty things to him that the audience pays to see. Like they request a good paddling or something and he knows he's at the mercy of not just you, but also the audience of the stream. And I think being fucked mercilessly while hundreds of people watch in real time would be SUCH a turn-on for him.

I think Nadia would be interested in the same scenario, but reversed lol. I picture her getting so, so turned on by the unpredictable nature of letting subscribers choose how she'll dominate you today. And the aftercare would be fucking AMAZING.

I think Portia would be the absolute fucking DREAM to make super hot, super informative toy reviews and demos with. Like yall probably get sponsored by a few sex toy retailers and Portia is NEVER NOT DOWN to try something new lol. Whether it's bondage, S&M, fun vibes, outlandish insertables, she's game.

Muriel I picture being very much the "boyfriend experience" kind of content with you. A lot of extremely personal candid photos of the two of you, all of them beautifully shot and edited, probably all in black and white. The kind of shots that make you stop and go, WOW, sexual intimacy can be so beautiful and poetic. Georgia O'Keefe style shit, you know? Just gorgeous and very vulnerable. Oh, and he may indulge you in some light bondage/Domming from time to time 👀

[lunnanunna]

God of Sanity

STRAY KIDS Extra Member AU

Summary: Ollie is the first to win a god title in Finding SKZ: God Edition.

Warnings: swearing

Taglist: @hyunmijung​ @galacticstxrdust​ @giant-puppy-yunho​ @kimonmars​ @soobinssmile​

A/N: I was re watching Finding SKZ and got so many good ideas, so this post and next week’s post will be about the show. Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.

Ollie stood next to Chan and Jeongin as she listened to the person on the phone explain the rules of the game. She took a look back at the trampoline along with the others and grinned. Ollie had grown up playing this game with her brothers, only they had called it Popcorn.

Facing forward again she smiled and held onto the maknae. He turned to her looking as excited as she felt. Ollie had to bite her lip to suppress her smile. There was no way in hell she’d tell the boys that she was an expert at this game. She’d surprised them for sure.

The boys began to joke around, guessing what the name of the god for this game would be. She laughed at some of the suggestions, bouncing as they moved over to the trampoline to start the game.

“I’ve never seen Noona so excited before,” Seungmin chuckled as he watched Ollie skip over to the side of the trampoline. She stuck her tongue out as she stood in between Felix and Jisung.

“It’s been ages since I’ve jumped on one of these.” Ollie clapped her hands and did a little dance.

“Seungmin, how about you go first?” Chan suggested and the vocalist shrugged as he walked over to the entrance of the trampoline.

“Seungmin will last five seconds, no no. Actually, one second,” Hyunjin laughed, holding up a finger.

“You people are so harsh,” Seungmin sighed as he made his way in.

“You got this, Seungmin!” Ollie cheered and gave a thumbs up when he looked at her, smiling.

The vocalist sat criss-crossed as Chan and Changbin hopped around. Ollie could already tell that Hyunjin was right. Seungmin wouldn’t last long.

The timer started and only made it to three seconds before Seungmin lost. Ollie laughed along with the others about his short time, and excitedly waited for the next one. She had planned to go last to give everyone a false hope of winning.

“I.N,” Seungmin beckoned over. The maknae smiled as he handed the phone that hung around his neck to Hyunjin and walked to the opening.

“Why am I scared?” he chuckled as he took his shoes off then climbed up.

“Who else is attacking with you?” Chan asked Seungmin, leaning against one of the posts on the trampoline.

“Uh, Hannie,” Seungmin said. Ollie smiled, pushing Jisung over to walk around to the shoe mat.

“Will the trampoline even move?” Changbin laughed climbing down the stairs behind Chan.

“Yah!” Jisung yelled, smiling and shaking his head as he went to take his shoes off.

As he took his sneakers off, Ollie looked at the two youngests running around and jumping. She had never seen Seungmin with so much energy before. Ollie wondered if she’d be able to get a trampoline for their dorm. It would be a great way to blow off steam.

“We’re not getting a trampoline,” Chan said as he walked over to stand where Jisung had been. Ollie looked at him with wide eyes.

“Geez your leader powers are scary sometimes,” Ollie said pretending to have a shiver run up her spine. Chan smirked, folding his hands behind his back as he looked at the three getting ready to start.

“I’ll totally help you sneak it in,” Felix whispered, leaning in towards Ollie, draping an arm around her shoulder. She gave him an approving look, holding up an ‘okay’ sign. The younger did the same, side eyeing her.

“No you won’t,” Chan said, not even looking at them.

“You’re no fun, Chris,” Ollie pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. Chan chuckled, shrugging. He looked over to her and gave her head a pat.

Ollie sniffed, turning to face the trampoline, nose turned up. She was going to say something when she saw how close Seungmin was jumping to Jeongin. The maknae held on for a few seconds then fell back.

“Yah! Careful with the baby! You’ll break him!” Ollie yelled, watching as Jeongin rolled around laughing.

“I’m fine, Noona,” he beamed at her, and Ollie could see just how happy he really was. She definitely needed to invest in one of these. She’d find a place for it somewhere.

I.N got up on shaky legs and motioned for Hyunjin to get on. Jisung climbed down and stood by the shoes watching. Seungmin stayed along with Jeongin.

“Hyunjin-ah. If I.N seems like he’s going to step on you, then run away,” Changbin laughed, motioning for the opening of the trampoline. Ollie chuckled along with the others. She laughed harder as the maknae spoke up.

“Hyung! I might step on you,” he warned Hyunjin, with wide eyes.

The others laughed while Ollie shouted, “That’s my son!” Felix and Minho laughed next to her.

“You’re a terrible influence,” Chan said shaking his head, but he was smiling.

“This is true,” Ollie smiled, turning to a camera and nodding. Then they waited for the timer to start. Ollie barked out a laugh, quickly covering her mouth as she laughed at Hyunjin who lasted one second. He rolled over as the two youngest kept  hopping.

“Yongbok,” Hyunjin called and Felix jogged happily over to take his shoes off. Ollie grinned watching him scurry around.

“Oof, my heart,” Ollie held a hand over her heart as he climbed in and began to bounce.

“I feel like a proud parent at the park,” Chan laughed.

“Same, dude,” Ollie agreed, soon bursting out laughing as Felix bounced rapidly. He kept it going for a bit longer as everyone cracked up. Ollie loved it when Felix got like this. Her sides actually hurt from laughing so much.

Once Felix’s turn was done it was Jisung who climbed up. Ollie watched as he marched his way over.

“Han, you can specially choose your attackers,” Chan said, leaning back, hands wrapped around the post.

Jisung nodded and turned to Felix then pointed at Ollie. “I want Noona and Yongbok,” he laughed. “I’ll last longer that way,” Jisung said, smiling.

Ollie bit her lip, smirking. She was so tempted to say ‘That’s what she said’ like the true twelve year old she was, but she was miked and didn’t feel like getting in trouble. Plus Chan was giving her a warning look.

Smiling, she mouthed the words to him, and he raised an unimpressed brow. He shook his head, as she skipped over to the entrance. She kicked off her pink, orange, and blue color block vans (They were her newest pair and she loved them!) unceremoniously, then scrambled onto the trampoline.

Taking one step, she grinned then bounced a few times. Once she was satisfied with her warm-up, she took a huge jump, and Jisung visibly swallowed.

“Hannie, you chose wrong,” Minho laughed as he watched the look on Jisung’s face morph from happy to scared.

“I wanna make a change!” Jisung said, looking out towards the staff for help.

“Nope. You chose. You’re a man of your word, aren’t you?” Ollie smirked, bouncing over to him. He mutely nodded, saying a quick prayer under his breath. The raven haired girl chuckled. She and Felix began to jump and Ollie hadn’t felt this sensation in years. It was awesome.

“Yah. Yah! We haven’t started yet!” Jisung yelled as Ollie and Felix slowed down. They looked at each other and laughed.

Jisung crawled back to the center and Ollie got ready. “I’ll last a minute,” Jisung said, giving a curt nod. Ollie snorted. “I will,” he whined, glaring at her.

“Of course you will,” Ollie said sarcastically. The two them started jumping.

Ollie was surprised with how long he was holding out, but Ollie also hadn’t given it her all. She readied herself for one last big jump.

“Noona! No!” Jisung yelped as he saw her get ready. Too late.

The jump sent Jisung flying, landing on his side, then he bounced around a bit more. Ollie had fallen on her butt laughing at the whole thing. She watched as he rolled then turned to her.

Widening her eyes as she shot up, running as best she could on the trampoline as Jisung made to grab her. She jumped off and landed on the grass in a crouched position. Ollie then grabbed her sneakers, running towards Minho and hiding behind him. Finding a camera, she grinned at it. (She was definitely the only one who purposely made eye contact with one. She prided herself in it!)

The next three were Minho, Chan, then Changbin. Minho lasted six seconds, shrugging as he climbed down. When Chan went, Ollie knew he’d do good. Minho and Changbin worked hard to get him to topple over, and they did. After twenty-two seconds. (Typical Leader Bang, always good at everything.)

Next was Chanbin’s turn, and Ollie, to say the least, was impressed. He surpassed Chan’s record and Ollie (And most likely everyone else) wasn’t expecting that. She gave him a high five when he jumped off.

“Okay, last, but not least. Ollie!” Jisung announced as Ollie took her sneakers off again. She climbed in and quickly tied her hair in a ponytail.

“Uh oh. She means business,” Jeongin said, grinning. Ollie gave him a thumbs up then sat in the center, criss-crossed.

“Who do you want up here?” Chan asked her.

“Whoever. Just don’t hold back,” Ollie smirked. Chan quirked a brow at her, impressed.

The boys ‘Oh’ed’ like middle schoolers as Chan chuckled. “Okay, okay,” he said, then motioned for Hyunjin. The dancer beamed and climbed on. Ollie watched as the two got ready to jump.

Felix started the timer and the two boys began to jump. At first they started easy, even though she told them not to. Ollie kept her hands neatly placed on her knees, and tightened all of her muscles to keep her balance as the boys began to jump harder.

Ollie kept a straight face on as she mentally counted the seconds that went by. She could hear all the boys cheering her on as twenty seconds turned to thirty.

“Yah, Noona! Just fall already!” Changbin yelled, obviously not wanting to lose.

“Well, tell them,” Ollie said, motioning to Chan with her chin.

“Geez, Ollie. You’re like a tiny rock,” Hyunjin said, jumping closer to her and a bit harder.

When Ollie saw that she passed Changbin’s time, she ducked her head a bit, smirking. Then she bounced herself up, unfolding and landing on her feet. The movement was so sudden, that it started Chan and Hyunjin who both stumbled back and fell.

“Yes! That’s my best friend!” Jisung cheered.

“That’s my Noona!” Felix joined in as if competing with Jisung.

“Ha, that’s my mom,” Jeongin said, smirking. Ollie cracked up, knees buckling at the comment. He definitely had them beat.

They climbed down from the trampoline and the group moved back over to the center where they had first stood. The phone started ringing again and after a few jokes about blocking the number, Jeongin answered.

“The first god has been determined,” the voice said. Everyone looked over to Ollie who was smirking at the camera. She jabbed her thumb to her chest, nodding.

“Literally though, I was impressed. I mean she’s so small,” Changbin said.

“I’m not that much smaller than you guys, geez. We’re a tiny group,” Ollie rolled her eyes. Then said, “Plus I used to play this game all the time with my brothers when I was a kid. You guys have nothing on them.” She shook her head then shrugged.

The voice spoke up again. “Ollie stayed crossed legged the longest,” it said then took a pause. They all waited for the answer. “She is now the god of Sanity.”

Everyone started laughing and Ollie nodded at the camera, oddly satisfied. (There were worst gods she could be.) The boys came over to her laughing and congratulated her, and she smiled at them, shaking her head.

Ollie walked over to the staff that had waved to her. She was handed a name tag with her title. “Thank you,” she bowed smiling, then walked back to the boys. She placed the name tag on her shirt as the boys cheered.

“This is going to be an interesting show,” Ollie laughed, shaking her head.

“My thoughts exactly,” Chan agreed.

Ollie’s Masterlist

[a-pretty-nerd]

Run (Jasper Jordan x Reader College!Au)

Request: “Hoi I wanna request a story sadly I don’t have Patreon though so u prob won’t make it hehe. It’s a Jasper Jordan x reader fan fic also I would love if it a High school/college Au and the readers parents don’t approve Jasper so she has to sneak out every time she wants to meet him but soon she finds out she’s pregnant so she runs away with him? Also your work is amazing!” ~ @deadqueeen 

A/N: I was just about to say, “I’ve never done a college au before, uwu!” but I forgot about that entire self indulgent smut I wrote…big Oof. Anyways, love this idea, I love some good ol’ fashioned angst. Just a warning though, I did end up leaning heavily into the relationship reader has with their parents so just be prepared for some upsetting interactions. 

If you like my work, don’t be afraid to interact! Gimme a like, comment, message, send a request my way if you like! And if you’d like to support me further, go ahead and check out my Patreon!  I’d love to see you there!

Trigger Warnings: Mild Smut, Parental abuse, petting crime, and Pregnancy. 

College was stressful as it is, but as the months passed, things were getting harder and harder to manage. Come your freshman year, a little thing called Covid-19 hit the world, sending it into a whirlwind of stress and unease.You sat in the shower, letting the warm water fall over your aching body as you stared blankly at your knees. After your panic attack you were left void of emotion and thought, sitting there wondering what to do and how to move. The water was a calming reminder that you were still present and very much alive.

Things had changed very quickly and yet it felt like that change took forever to get to you. Covid hit right before the end of your freshman year, forcing you to move back in with your parents until it “passed.” But it wasn’t passing and now you were starting your sophomore year at home.As stressful as it was, you missed school. You missed your friends, your dorm room, even your part-time job. But most of all, your freedom. You missed the carefree way in which you lived in the dorms. You had a taste or real life and you craved more.

You were trapped, for lack of a better word, imprisoned in your childhood home. You spent days without leaving the confines of it’s walls in a failed attempt to keep you safe and focused on school. Your parents weren’t always so strict, but they made it clear that school should be your top priority and anything else was an unwelcome distraction. Things like your boyfriend, were merely a hindrance to your education.You met Jasper your first day in the dorms. He was bright and smiling like an excited puppy, eager and willing to make new friends and new experiences. You quickly became friends, and then a little more. Before you knew it, the two of you were inseparable. He made you feel so wild and free. He nurtured the fun, carefree side of you that you didn’t even know existed. He cared for you in ways no one ever had before. He was so funny and kind and genuine. He gave you the tools to grow, and with his, you bloomed.

When the pandemic hit, it devastated the two of you. Being isolated and kept from one another proved too much to bare. You remember the first night you snuck out with him, terrified of alerting your parents. They hated Jasper, they forbade you from seeing him. Told you he’d do nothing but keep you down and stifle your potential. If only they could see how happy he made you. If only, they cared.Jasper would creep around to your backyard and gently tap at your bedroom window. 12 am, they’d always be asleep, the perfect time to make a quick get away and then 6am, you’d sneak back through your window.

The adrenaline of misbehaving always drove you crazy. Sneaking around in the dark of the night, stealing chased kisses from one another until it was too much to handle. You fell into each other’s arms almost every night, desperate kisses and moans in between the sound of skin slapping against skin. He made your hair curl.You were his first. He was awkward and silly at times but you whipped him into shape real quick. And now, he was a well trained boy toy ready and willing at any moment you desired. He was always so desperate for you, so needy and greedy for your body. But his kisses, no matter how passionate and crazed, were always so loving. He adored you in every way.

These secret rendezvous went on for months, all summer, it was routine, you couldn’t stay away from him. But, maybe you should have. With more classes fast approaching, you began to think about your future. If only you had the money to move out, you and Jasper could finally have a sense of normalcy. You could move in together, start a life together. But the pandemic and school sucked your savings dry and without the conditioned help from your parents, you were penniless. You finally stood on your shaky legs and lifted yourself out of the show. You dried yourself off, shuffled over to your room, dressing yourself, and waiting till the coast was clear. When all was quiet, you texted Jasper and soon he was at your window. Lucky for you, he wasn’t a far drive away. He gently tapped on the glass and leaned down to flash a big goofy grin from behind your curtains. You opened the window and let him in, shushing him as he fell into the room.

“Hey sweetness.” He whispered, loudly. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek as he held you by your hips.“Please be quiet, you’re making me nervous.” You hushed. His smile disappeared slowly as he examined your face. Your red eyes and puffy cheeks gave away your emotions. He was never good at reading a room, but there was little you could hide from him. He made you transparent.

“Have you been crying?” Worry washed over him as he placed his hands to hold your head and slide his thumbs over the soft skin on your cheeks. You tried to avoid his gaze but failed miserably.“Yeah…” You admitted, wiggling out of his grasp so you could sit on the edge of your bed. Your heart started to race, the anxiety and fear wrenching its was through your body. Even the thoughts made you want to cry again.

“Whats wrong? Did something happen with your parents?” You’d been having fights with them for some time now, and he knew it was taking a tole on you. Jasper offered to being you home to his folks, but his relationship with them was on the rocks as it was. Your small group of close friends were your only support. All things considered, the two of you were left on your own. “No…” You muttered, unable to bring yourself to say it out loud. The tears quickly came back up and started falling again. Your emotions, your fears, your pain took over you. You couldn’t get out a single word before your body jerked uncontrollably as you sobbed. It left a slew of incomplete words spewing from your mouth. “I-I….I-I I’m ….. Mmmm …. I’m …..” gasp, sob “Mmmmmha….” and the sobbing continued.

“Hey…Hey…It’s okay.” He cooed softly to you as he rubbed soft, slow circles on your back. It helped, but not much.“N-No…” you shook as you cried, “I’m-m-m-”

“It’s alright, take deep breaths, you don’t have to say anything until you’re ready.” He whispered to you. You clung to him desperately. It took time, but soon you felt good enough to speak again.“Jasper…”

“What sweetness?” He flashed you his kind and loving smile.“I’m pregnant.” You uttered softly. You watched the color drain from his face. His sweet smile faded away to a scowl and the fear rushed back to you. The sobbing started again as you chanted apology after apology, begging for him to stay with you. He didn’t move, he only held you where you were. Finally spoke.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. We tried, we were safe, it’s not your fault. Shhhhh. It’s okay.” Suddenly a bright light interrupted him. Your bedroom door swing open to reveal the large, looming figure of your mother. “What the hell is going on here!” She screamed. You watched in horror as your mother wrenched Jasper from your arms and threw him out into the living room. You followed her, pleading and begging her to stop as she hurled whatever was in reach at him. Shoes, pillows, plates, before your father reached around his collar to throw him out of the house. 

The yelling and screaming continued through the night until the sun came up. Your father nailed your bedroom window shut. Your mother locked your door by pushing furniture in front of it to keep you inside. Your phone, your computer, every form of communication was taken from you. Every mistreatment and punishment being underlined by some iteration of, “this is for your own good” or “this is because we love you.” 

You felt stuck in an emotional limbo for days on end as they kept you prisoner. You didn’t have the energy to cry or argue, there was nothing you could do or say. You had sit and stay, like a good girl. 

One night you were woken by a soft tapping at your bedroom window. You jolted out of bed to see a pair of familiar eyes pear back. Monty stood on the other outside, a face mask and baseball cap hiding his features. He held up a notebook with writing on it and pressed it against the glass. 

“Are you okay?” It read. You rushed to find paper and write back. 

“I’m fine. Wheres Jasper?” 

“Your Dad threatened to shoot him if he saw him again. So he sent me.” He wrote back. 

“Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine. We’re busting you out of here.” 

“How? They’re getting security cameras installed tomorrow.” Monty looked visibly concerned and thought for a moment before responding. 

“Then we’ll have to do it tonight. Pack what you can. We’ll be back to get you in an hour.” 

“How are you going to get me out? The window is nailed shut, I can’t get out.” 

“Don’t worry. Just be prepare to run.” And with that, he left. You packed what you could. A few items of clothing, necessities, and water. You thought about leaving a note. Maybe telling your parents about your pregnancy, they had missed that part of your conversation, thank god. You decided against it, you still didn’t know what to do. Regardless, it was safe to say you could kiss your funding for school goodbye. You’d be on your own from now on. Well, not entirely. 

You heard shuffling outside your bedroom window and looked outside to see two dark figures racing past. You watched as Bellamy peered in, face also obscured by a mask, and waved at you. Jasper’s mask covered face popped into view and planted his palm on the window before holding up a notebook. 

“Get away from the window, and be prepared to run.” It read. As soon as you nodded in agreement, Jasper disappeared from view. You watched Bellamy swing his arms back with a crow bar in hand. The window shattered with a loud crash, glass flying all over your bedroom. He reached a hand out to you, his grasp firm as you clung to his forearm. You were pulled through to the outside and fell to the ground below. 

“Go, go, go, run!” Bellamy whispered, loudly. You looked up at your parent’s house as the sound of dogs barking rang in your ears. Lights flew on from the house as well as neighbor’s lights. You felt so stiff and ridged. The urge to run suppressed by your fear. Jasper reached down and took your hand in his. You looked up at him, his eyes wide with urgency. He tugged at your arm, begging you to get up and run with him. 

Suddenly, you felt free. You felt the strength to get up and push forward. Running with him to a car parked outside the house. The three of you bolted, tripping over yourselves as you raced against the clock. As soon as you were in the car, Octavia greeted you with a big toothy grin. 

“Drive! Drive!Drive!” Jasper shouted at her. Her smile disappeared as she looked back at Jasper with you before her attention went back to the car. The engined roared as she adjusted the gears and soon you were off. Still panting, you looked back at your childhood home and saw your parents tumble out of the front door to try and chase after the car. Your dad tried to chase after the car, but stopped when he realized it was no use. Their figures soon disappeared. 

Octavia cheered triumphantly as you turned back to catch your breath. A great big smile stretched across your face. You’d never felt so free before. You looked over to see Jasper still panting but sporting a bright smile as he looked at you. He reached a hand around the back of your head and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You laughed and basked in the blissful feeling the adrenaline gave you. 

Soon the moment passed and you were left holding one another’s hand as Octavia drove you to Bellamy’s apartment. You stayed the night, planned your escape. Apparently Jasper’s parents didn’t know he was leaving either, meaning the two of you were officially on the run. You had to leave town, like, now. 

You pooled what money the two of you had, quick to take cash out of your account before your parents could freeze your debit card. Enough to get you out of town and settled in a hotel for a few nights, maybe even a few meals. But you couldn’t afford much without work after that. Lucky for the two of you, a friend from the dorms lived just a town over. You could stay with her a few days while you looked for work. 

“What are you going to do?” Bellamy asked with a dark expression as he stared at you. 

“What?” You were confused, hadn’t you just laid out your plan? 

“Jasper told me you were...you have another problem.” His eyes flashed between the two of you before resting on you again, he was careful to not say anything too pointed. 

“Oh...I...I don’t know.” You said under a whisper. Jasper rested a firm hand on your knee. 

“How long have you known?” Octavia asked. 

“Like a few days. Theres still time to think about it, I just...I just wanna get out right now.” Bellamy nodded his head. 

“If you guys need anything, don’t be afraid to call okay?” He handed you a prepaid phone. You thanked them for your help, packed up, and left the next night. You hid under masks and baseball hats as you sat at the bus station. The cool night air brushed against you skin as you admired the bright lights of the street lamps above. Jasper squeezed your hand in his to get your attention. You looked at one another and smiled under your mask. 

You’d never tell him this, but during the coarse of your relationship you had always worried about Jasper. Worried that maybe you weren’t as serious as you felt. Maybe you were just a little fun to him, the rush of a forbidden romance being what drove him to you. But now, with him so willing run. So willing to leave his comfortable life just for you. Regardless of the responsibilities that came with it. He chose you, without a second thought, he chose you. 

The dark street road was empty and serene. You watched as bats flew down to catch bugs that swarmed the lights above you. Despite your situation, you felt safe and warm there beside him. For the first time, you felt confident that everything is going to be okay. 

[spooks-and-tea]

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader) [Ch.10]

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, bad words, sexual situations (some non-con), the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: I hope this isn’t too weird and confusing, I didn’t want to go totally left-field fantasy on you all. The thing I liked about Gubler’s CM episodes was that they seemed fantastical, yet they were still very much grounded in reality. That’s what I was going for with this fic. Hopefully, it’s bringing a little bit of entertainment into your lives.   :)

Word Count: 4,071

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7.  Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.

************************************************************************

Spencer When Spencer opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the warehouse.

He didn't know where he was, not exactly. He knew this was the void space that the equation had proven.

Colors flew past him like the Millennium Falcon traveling at warped speed. The place was making a crackling sound. Spencer took a few steps forward; the colors didn't seem effected by his movements.

Something quickly tugged at his chest, like a magnetic force.

"Whoa!" He flailed his arms, trying to catch his balance.

Just follow the magnetic pull and it'll lead you to her.

"Right," Spencer remembered. He placed his palm flat over his chest; he had felt it when they first met.

His legs carried him quickly, following the pull. The buzzing seemed to be getting louder as he traversed.

He wasn't sure why, but something told him not to look up. Was there something there watching him? He carried on, he didn't know how long or how far he walked. Time didn't seem to matter here, it shouldn't, this was a place that was lacking everything.

Nothing should exist here.

He wasn't even walking on a floor; there was no gravity to hold him to one.

The pull suddenly tugged Spencer to the left. His eyes landed on something that he was sure hadn't been there before; a red, velvet curtained tunnel.

Without hesitating, Spencer climbed inside. He felt like a child in one of those indoor jungle gyms; he'd always wanted to play on those as a child, he never did.

The tunnel stretched on, Spencer realized it was getting dimmer and dimmer as he crawled forward. Soon, total darkness lay ahead of him, if he reached his hand forward it would seemingly disappear within the chasm.

He took a deep breath, thinking of Y/N, and his chest ached. He knew in his gut that this was right.

He crawled inside and heard a loud snap. Then, he fell.

Spencer toppled face first into a carpeted floor; with a loud "oof!"

"What the hell?!"

He was almost afraid to open his eyes; afraid of what he'd see.

When he got the nerve, he opened his eyes and his jaw dropped.

It was himself, but upside down (oh, he was lying on his back). He rolled over onto his hands and pushed himself off the floor.

He stood at the same height, face to face, with someone who looked exactly like him.

"Who are you?" Spencer and his double both asked un unison.

************************************************************************

Y/N You had a good feeling about today as you walked on set.

Your heart-to-heart with Matthew had ultimately made you feel less alone; something you hadn't realized you needed before.

If you were going to ever move on, you needed to surround yourself with friends. Luckily, the crew and cast were quickly becoming that for you, especially Matthew. You really appreciated how he stepped up to help you. He believed you despite how crazy your story sounded.

Today, you were filming a tough scene. Your character was going to supposedly die in Spencer's arms, except, you knew you'd be back by the next season. Something about the doctors pulling through and saving you just in time.

You were running a bit late, but you sipped a coffee to keep up your spirits. This was going to be energy-draining.

You left hair-and-makeup and went straight to the set.

The director was busy, so you stood in your place and went over your lines.

"Alright, so the unsub has just fired at you, you know, we've already filmed that bit." The director came over. You saw Matthew walking behind him and you waved. He did a small wave back with a big smile. The director grabbed your attention again.

"So Matthew, you're going to begin dragging her behind the vehicle. Y/N I want you already in that state of mind where you know you're dying. Is that clear to you two?" He finished. You and Matthew both nodded.

The director turned around, going to his place behind the camera. You got into place, laying down on the cement.

"3, 2, 1, action!"

You heard the fake gunfire start and closed your eyes. You heard heavy footsteps run towards you and felt Matthew pick your shoulders up, dragging your lower half backwards. He stopped behind a car and propped you up against him.

You breathed, heavily and opened your eyes halfway.

"Spencer," you gasped. You clutched the fake wound in your stomach.

"It's okay. You'll be okay. I-I've got you."

You grit your teeth, taking shaky breaths as you grabbed his free hand that wasn't supporting your head. He rubbed comforting circles with his thumb.

He was looking over your wounds, analytically.

"Spencer I-"

"No! Don't say it. Not now, you're not leaving me now." His lip quivered.

"Please. Please, let me say it." You whined, a tear falling from your eye. He froze for a second, you thought maybe Matthew had forgotten his lines.

"I can't."

"You and I both know my chances of survival are low, Spence."

"I know." He was beginning to sound choked up. A scripted tear fell on your forehead.

"If this is the last moment I get to share with you, I want to make it count." You started to shiver.

He nodded, looking you in the eyes and tightening his grip. In that moment, he almost looked like your Spencer.

"I love you Spencer Reid-"

His eyes widened.

You felt the magnetic pull in your chest aching at the memory of loving your Spencer and being loved in return. When you said the line, you meant it. Matthew knew that this was your personal, real goodbye. He had made sure to hug you extra tight during the table read.

"-and if I die here I don't want you to feel guilty. This wasn't your fault. I chose to confront the unsub, this was my stupid mistake. Promise me-"

If only I could have told him this.

He shook his head, tears falling down his reddening cheeks.

"Promise me you won't blame yourself." Your voice squeaked as you clenched your eyes shut in fake pain.

He stayed silent.

"Promise me, Spence,"  you said a little louder.

"I promise. I love you." He whispered.

You held on, gasping and shaking in his arms. Your eyes looking into his. Seeing the glazed look in his eyes made your stomach twist.

Then you closed your eyes and relaxed your grip on his hand, slowly letting your body go limp.

You listened as Matthew played out the rest of Spencer's scene. Crying and holding you close. He kissed your forehead, something that was improvised. It left your forehead feeling tingly.

Then the paramedics truck drives into the scene. You're lifted by a paramedic onto a stretcher and carried to the ambulance.

You lay there limply as Matthew plays out the rest of the emotional scene, holding your hand and talking to the paramedics.

"Cut!"

You opened your eyes, feeling slightly dizzy from the vibrations deep in your chest. The familiar pull had been bugging you for the entire scene.

"Good take, we'll come back in 5!" The director announced.

Matthew sat up and held his hand out to you, giving you a strange look. You grabbed it and he helped you off the ambulance truck.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You laughed as your feet hit the ground.

"Like what?" He blinked.

"Like I'm the Mona Lisa."

He was still holding your hand you were getting a little suspicious that he was up to something.

"I am?"

"What are you up to, Gubler?" You narrowed your eyes and dropped your hand from his. "Never mind for now, I have to run to my trailer and grab a snack bar. I didn't have time for breakfast today and that scene sucked up all my energy." You smiled, walking around him to go to your trailer.

You were nearly there when Matthew caught up with you again.

"Wait! Y/N. We don't have much time."

You spun around.

"I know, that's why I'm fast walking, but you keep interrupting me. What's going on with you? You're acting stranger than you usually do." You crossed your arms over your chest, looking him in the eyes. Again, he was giving you that look that was beginning to remind you of Spencer and it was starting to get to you.

"I-uh. Can you just come with me?" He nodded to his trailer.

You frowned. Was he playing a joke on you? Was this for one of his YouTube mockumentaries?

"Okay, but only if you stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" He asked, exasperated.

"Like-um- he used to look at me that way." You mumbled, dropping your head and massaging the back of your neck.

"I-I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

He walked in front of you.

"No it's not." You looked up, frowning at him.

He looked guilty, that's the last thing you wanted your friend to feel again. You knew he was sorry, but he couldn't help it. In a way, he was partly like Spencer Reid.

He held your face between his hands and kissed your forehead. Your eyes widened. Your body and mind were at war. He felt so much like Spencer, yet your mind told you you couldn't just replace Spencer with his doppelgänger in another dimension.

You'd never even considered pursuing anything with your friend; likewise, Matthew seemed to be on the same track until now.

You were just friends; so then why was he kissing your forehead so sweetly?

"Matthew?" You whispered, giving him a quizzical look.

He slowly shook his head, 'no.' It took a moment for you to understand.

You covered your gasp, placing your hand over your mouth.

"No, no, no- you're not? Are you?" You fumbled with your words, feeling your hands begin to shake.

"It's me. It's Spencer."

You held back a cry, reaching a shaking hand up to touch his face. He was looking at you like you were his entire world; that was how you knew it was him.

"Spencer!" You sobbed, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He wrapped his arms around you just as tight, lifting you off the ground, slightly. Your senses kicked in as you smelled the familiar coffee and woodsy-vanilla.

You cried into his neck, shutting out the rest of the world.

He pulled back, placing a hand on your cheek. You finally got a good look at him. His eyes were rimmed red with tears. It looked like he hadn't slept in weeks and his cheeks were slightly more hollow than you remembered. Was he sick?

"How did you find me?" You cried.

He smiled, placing your hair behind your ear. "It's a long story."

You swallowed down the swelling in your throat. "I'm afraid if I stop holding you, you'll disappear."

He shook his head, "Nah, I'm here to stay, if you want me to."

"Why wouldn't I want you to stay?" You laughed.

"Because we can stay here, or I can take you back."

Your eyes widened. "We can go back?"

He nodded.

"I-" You thought about Matthew, the crew, everyone you would leave behind. They had become your friends, but you knew Spencer couldn't stay here. He couldn't live in the same world as Matthew it could create some kind of paradox over time, you were sure. Every sci-fi film told you that was a possibility.

However, you knew you would be happy as long as you were with him, and the BAU had become your family. It was only right to go back.

"I want to go back to your dimension. I want to go back to the way things were."

Spencer's eyes brightened.

"Okay. I'll take you home."

He kissed you, deepening the kiss as a rush of emotions caught up with you both. You smiled into the kiss, feeling your chest vibrate with happiness at the familiar softness of his lips. He may have had the same body as Matthew, but his kisses were entirely different.

Finally, the hollow aching was gone. You had your Spencer back.

Spencer pulled away first and you whined, trying to chase his lips again. You'd gone so long without him, your body wanted to remember him all over again; to fill in the cracks of the memories that had started to fade.

"We can't stay here." He laughed, raking his fingers through your hair.

"Why not?"

"I don't know how much time we have if we want to go back."

"Right." Your body suddenly moved with a purpose, waiting to follow Spencer anywhere.

"I came in through Matthew's trailer." He grabbed your hand and led you to the trailer a few doors down from yours.

He knocked on the door and Matthew opened it, flashing a playful smile at the both of you.

"Hey, it worked!" He moved back to let you both in, you shut the door behind you. No one needed to know that there were inter-dimensional twins hanging out in Matthew's trailer.

"Thank you." Spencer nodded.

"No, no it's the least I could do." Matthew turned to you. "So I guess you're leaving through the strange crack in the aluminum trailer wall?" He pointed his thumb behind him.

"Yeah. Can't have two versions of you running around. I don't think the universe could handle that." You joked.

"Well, I'm going to miss you, but at least I know you'll finally be happy. What will I tell the cast and crew?" He smiled, sadly.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." You momentarily released Spencer's hand to hug your friend.

"Now you'll be catching unsubs in real life." Matthew spoke.

"I've gotten kinda good at winging it, I think."

Matthew rubbed your back. "I'm seeing myself give me a jealous look, so I think I should let you go now."

You rolled your eyes as you pulled away, looking back at, sure enough, your fidgeting genius.

"Good luck with the rest of your life, Matthew. I know you'll do great things. I hope they'll write Reid a new love interest." You said your final goodbyes.

Matthew nodded to you as Spencer grabbed your hand again. "Good luck catching real bad guys!"

Spencer tugged you through the crack, you turned and waved at Matthew. He was already waving back.

Once you made it through, the crack closed and emitted a glowing light. You guessed that meant it was sealed.

"Thanks for everything, Matthew." You spoke under your breath, patting the sealed wall.

You found that you were in a tunnel on your hands and knees, with no room to stand. You recognized it as the place you had crossed through to initially get to Spencer.

"Spencer?" You called out, scared. The light in the tunnel was almost pitch black.

"I'm in front of you, don't worry, it'll get brighter as we reach the end." You felt his hand momentarily on yours.

"Just crawl forward. If you get scared, tell me and I'll let you know I'm still here."

You had no idea how he was so calm. "O-okay."

You heard him start to shuffle against the tunnel's soft velvet fabric.

You crawled and crawled. Slowly, light started to emit from the folds of the fabric, illuminating the tunnel more as you pushed forward.

The light calmed you, the great view of Spencer's ass calmed you even more.

"Spencer my arms are getting sore." You didn't want to complain, but you had skipped out on breakfast, filmed an emotional scene early in the morning, and had a heartfelt reunion. You were exhausted and full of nerves.

"I can see the end of the tunnel, don't worry."

"All I can see is your ass in my face." You mumbled.

"Y-you can stare at your hands instead." Spencer stammered.

"Hey I'm not complaining. I've missed you. All of you. I've thought a lot about that last night we were together." You said cheekily. You knew he had to be blushing.

"I have too." He said, sounding distant.

A heartbeat later, you had reached the end of the tunnel. Spencer climbed out first and turned to help you off your shaking knees.

You were in a place full of moving lights, all different colors. You held tightly to Spencer's hand, trusting that he knew where he was going.

"How do you know where your dimension is?" You asked.

"I can feel the pull from it, I guess since I'm from there."

It was strange, you didn't feel that same pull towards your own dimension. You only felt sated, now that Spencer was by your side.

You followed him, walking in a comfortable silence. The environment confused you, but you knew it was something you just couldn't comprehend. It would be easier if you just accepted it was real and pushed on. Spencer must have thought the same because he seemed relatively calm, his hand gripped yours, as he rubbed his thumb along your knuckles every once in a while.

"You know, it wasn't your fault." You said as you studied the way his FBI vest looked loose on him. Had he been missing meals?

"What wasn't my fault?" He bit his lip.

"Me returning. I was kidnapped by the unsub, wasn't I?" You asked, not entirely sure how it exactly happened.

Spencer nodded. "I didn't even feel the bed move, I didn't hear him come in. If I had only woken up for a second, I could have stopped him." He spoke solemnly.

"Spencer stop and look at me for a sec." You halted and gave his arm a tug.

He did as you said.

You lifted your hand to his cheekbone, grazing your thumb over the skin there. The lights surrounding you casted a rainbow of colors onto his face.

"Spence, it was not your fault, okay? We were both exhausted. When he picked me up, I woke up for a second, but I thought he was you so I fell back to sleep again. I could have stopped it too. But it happened, and it was neither of our faults it was the unsub's fault only." Spencer took a deep breath and sighed; relaxing his shoulders as if you had taken off the weight he had carried there for over 5 months.

"I found you and that's what matters." He squeezed your hand. You both started to walk again. You wrapped both of your arms around his outstretched one, cuddling into him.

"And you're never getting rid of me now." You smirked.

"As if I would want to."

"How did you find me?"

"We found a house where the unsub was building a machine of some sort. He left behind papers full of quantum mechanics equations which all came together to form one big equation. I won't bore you with the specifics, but we eventually found the unsub again through a phone call lead I received from an unknown woman. I had already figured out the order of the equation, but there were missing parts. I realized it was time and space. When we got to the new location, JJ apprehended the unsub and I solved the equation in 2 minutes, jumped on the machine's platform, and ended up here." Spencer condensed.

Now was not the time to sit and talk about everything. You had to get back to his dimension, or risk getting stuck here.

"You did the impossible." Your eyes shined with pride for your genius. He blushed.

"And you jumped onto an inter-dimensional-quantum-time machine thing not knowing if it would even take you to the right place? Spencer Reid I should be cross with you for being so reckless!" You gently slapped his arm.

"I just wanted you back more than anything."

Your heart ached at his words. You stopped him and pulled his tie forward to kiss him. You wanted to deepen the kiss; you wanted to taste him again, but you forced yourself to pull away. I love you, Y/N." He whispered.

"I love you too Spencer."

You continued forward for what felt like 10 minutes, but it could have been any length of time; it was hard to tell here.

Spencer suddenly tugged you to the left, you turned and groaned as you saw another long tunnel. This place was going to give you knee bruises.

"You go first this time." Spencer suggested, biting his lip.

"Very sly," you rolled your eyes. "You're lucky I love you."

He smiled, sheepishly, and he crawled inside after you. Admittedly, you arched your back just slightly to give him an eyeful just because he was cheeky about it.

A few minutes in you grew bored and decided to suddenly stop. Spencer's face crashed into your butt.

"Hey!" He rubbed his sore nose.

"Maybe look at your hands and not my ass," you suggested. You turned to lay on your side and laughed at him. Simultaneously resting your sore limbs.

Spencer, not amused. Grabbed your ankle and slid you under him.

"Maybe stop arching your back; begging for my attention." He smirked. His voice had dropped an octave.

For the second time in your life you found yourself asking, was Spencer Reid dominant in the bedroom? You knew he could be at times, you didn't know to what extent.

"I-I didn't- Spence do you have a dominant side I don't know about?" You asked.

His smile dropped.

"You don't think I'm dominant?"

"Um, mixed signals?"

He pouted.

"Are you trying to be?" You asked, searching his eyes.

"I thought I just naturally was."

"Sometimes you are; it seems random when you let it come through. Maybe it's something we can explore when we get back." You tried to cheer him up.

Spencer swallowed, "y-yeah, I think I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

You bit your lip imagining how he could possibly act when he's not holding back.

Spencer cleared his throat. "We should keep going."

"Yeah," you breathed, dreamily. You didn't move.

Spencer laughed and rolled you over.

You went to stand on your knees again when you felt a slap against your ass.

You blushed, looking over your shoulder. "Spencer!" Did Spencer Reid just spank you?

"Just making sure you know which way is forward. I can break my nose against your bottom, you know."

"Oh my god, let's talk about something else, okay?" Your blush grew deeper.

The tunnel was becoming totally dark.

"It's getting dark, how do we know when we've reached it?" You asked.

"You'll see a pitch black hole, maybe climb through it feet fir-"

"Whoa!" You felt yourself suddenly falling face first.

You reached out and caught yourself with your hands before your face could contact whatever it was you had fallen on.

"Ow," you groaned.

Your knees had hit something hard. They were definitely bruised and bleeding. Your hands were scratched up.

"Are you okay?!" Spencer had swung his legs out first, landing, perfectly, in front of you.

"Nothing a hot bath and bandages won't fix." You mumbled, standing up.

"Your hands are bleeding!" Spencer squeaked, grabbing your wrists to inspect the damage.

"I'll live. Actually, no, I think I need Dr. Reid's special medical attention, once again." You teased, your mind reminding you of the time he mended and kissed your bruised knuckles.

Spencer shook his head with a smile and held your hands up, giving each one a kiss.

"Déjà vu." You giggled. He had a habit of making you into a giddy schoolgirl at times. In this moment, it could be your exhaustion making you delirious.

The crack in the wall next to you sealed.

"Where are we?" You looked around at a concrete interior.

"The warehouse. That's the platform I used to get to you." Spencer pointed.

You heard voices talking just outside. You pulled Spencer's hand to exit the building together.

"Spencer Reid, you have a lot of explaining to do!" JJ yelled, stomping towards him.

Her eyes softened when they landed on you. By now the rest of the team had arrived. They all took notice of you and Spencer, one-by-one. "Where the hell did you go, Spence? You disappeared into a bright light and didn't return for 3 hours!" JJ continued, walking up to give both of you a group hug. "Actually, I didn't disappear. I was a bunch of tiny particles moving at the speed of light. It gave me enough energy to break through to the void. From there, I followed a magnetic pull to a crack in Y/N's dimension. I found her and brought her back through a crack that opened here." Spencer explained, matter-of-factly.

JJ sighed and pinched her nose. "Listen, if I hadn't seen you blink out of here with my own eyes, I'd be rushing you to a shrink right now. You have a lot of explaining to do. Both of you."

The others came running over, Morgan scooping you up into a hug. "Pretty girl, where have you been?" He asked, setting you down.

Spencer slid his arm around you. You held him closer. "Maybe it's better if Spencer explained that," you replied, looking up at your own personal super hero.

Next Chapter

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

The Winter Games at Lythikos begin, and Liam and Olivia are seen together more and more. Anton’s condition deteriorates.

Word Count 3558

A/N One more chapter to go and this series comes to an end. 

22 Not Quite Over

‘Well this is a step up from my last visit to Lythikos’ Drake said as Sophia consulted the list of bedroom allocations, remembering how she had helped out last time she’d been there. ‘Olivia always put me in the chalet furthest away from the Lodge, with only just enough room to walk round the bed and a shared bathroom.’ He explained to Riley ‘Mind you, that meant raiding her wine cellar all the more tempting. Sophia and I made a bit of a dent in her collection’ Sophia shuddered at the memory, remembering she had gone there after an ominous meeting with Constantine, when she wondered if Bastien would have to give her up for his job.

‘Maybe you and I can pay a visit this time’ Riley grinned, squeezing his arm as they walked along the narrowing corridors of the guest section of the lodge. The room they had been allocated was at least in the main building, and Drake knew that all of them had their own en suite bathrooms, though the section they were coming to was at the lower end of what the building had to offer. Still, it was better than queuing to shave and having to wrap up warm to get to the main house. Sophia stopped to look at the schematic she’d been given.

‘It’s just at the end of the corridor on the right’ she said, and as she did, her phone beeped with an incoming text message. She looked at it and smiled ‘It looks like Bas has some time off, so I’m going to go and meet him’ Riley grinned at her.

‘Don’t do anything we – oof!’ she grunted as Drake interrupted by elbowing her in the ribs.

‘Don’t remind me that my mentor has a healthy sexual appetite’ he grumbled, then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly ‘Sorry Soph’.

‘It’s fine’ she said ‘I’ll probably see you at dinner, there’s a buffet in the main dining room at six’.

‘Sure thing’ Drake waited until she was out of earshot before leaning across to whisper in Riley’s ear ‘Now let’s go and give our bed a thorough testing’

‘Okay Tiger’ she murmured, and they went off to explore their new quarters.

--------

It was late when Olivia and Liam finally got time to talk again, as the Duchess had people to greet and meetings with her staff to make sure all was ready for the opening ceremony the day after. This time it was Olivia’s suite where they met. Liam had and adjoining room with a connecting door. Olivia sat heavily on the bed, and Liam went to sit with her, taking one of her feet to massage it.

‘I’m glad I had that nap in the limo’ she groaned ‘My energy levels aren’t what they should be’

‘Naturally, your growing a whole new person’ Liam smiled softly. ‘You can always delegate to me, you know’ She scoffed

‘This is my duchy, Liam’ she replied, and lay flat, looking up at the ceiling.

‘So what do you think of my proposal?’ He asked ‘I understand you’ve not had a lot of time to think about it, but I’d like to know what way you’re leaning.’

‘I know I need to give you an answer’ she said ‘Time’s getting on, and if I say yes, the announcement will be considerably different than my bearing the heir, to say nothing of our problem with Anton. I’m still his wife’

‘Now that’s where I’ve got good news for you’ he replied, and she sat up to look at him.

‘Good news is exactly what I need right now’ she said.

‘Well, there is yet another ancient Royal marriage clause that states that both parties must be reasonably expected to physically beget or bear children. King Theodore’s eldest son wasn’t allowed to inherit the throne after he had a riding accident that paralysed him from the waist down and made him impotent. The throne went to his brother’

‘But that didn’t apply to Regina. She was known to be barren when she married Constantine’ Olivia pointed out

‘Constantine already had two heirs, so that clause was null and void.’

‘So Anton’s condition – oh wait, Lucretia said death was certain’ Olivia mused.

‘But even if he lingered for years, we could argue that he’ll never be able to beget an heir’

‘It sounds a bit shaky’

‘A bit shaky is better than impossible’ Liam said ‘It’s our best argument so far’ Olivia lay back down with a sigh.

‘It’s not a good thing to wish another human being dead, even Anton Severus’ she grumbled ‘But it would solve a number of problems’

------

The following morning, Olivia and the King declared the games open. A winter fair with tents, stalls and marquees close to the lodge ran all through the event,  and the sports started off with a downhill ski race that morning. There were enough entries for three heats, and four from each heat would go through to the final, to be held the next day.  The next morning there would be curling on the lake and the afternoon hosted the downhill ski finals. The following morning was set aside for a figure skating event on the lake and snowboarding in the afternoon. The third day saw skating speed races in the morning and ski jumping in the afternoon. The fourth day was set aside for finals, awards, and a closing ceremony.

The event was well attended, and it looked as if Olivia’s fears of being unpopular were unfounded. She made sure to mingle with the crowds at the fair and with the competitors and sponsors. That meant that at the end of the day she was exhausted, which worried Liam.

‘Livvy, you need to take a break’ he said as she got ready for bed, too tired even to take a bath.

‘You know I have to work hard at this’ she sighed ‘There’s nobody to delegate to here, not even you.’

‘Then let me take care of you’ he said, and took hold of her shoulders, looking into her eyes ‘You know you can trust me’ She sighed, and he pulled her close ‘You’ve done really well today’ he continued ‘I plan to tell the country about our arrangement at the closing ceremony if things continue like this’ He felt her stiffen.

‘And if Anton’s still alive? He’s still legally my husband’

‘I’m working on it – remember that clause about being able to provide an heir? I’m waiting for a report from the hospital that will confirm that’s impossible’

‘You’d say it all hinges on who I choose’ she said ‘and you know I’d never choose Anton’

‘I suppose that’s true’ he replied ‘Now come on, let’s get you to bed, you need to rest’

------

The second day was a roaring success, and Olivia continued to make herself seen, but now Liam kept her company. There were whispers and rumours about the two of them, but they all seemed positive. Sophia was happy to discover that Bastien’s duties were light, and they spent most of the day together watching the sports and visiting the winter fair. She made sure to keep abreast of the media, monitoring opinions on the budding friendship between Olivia and the King. Late in the day, it was confirmed at last that Anton was unlikely to recover enough to reign, let alone provide an heir for his line. An broadcast to the public was arranged for early evening.

Liam chose to film the broadcast in the lounge of the suite Olivia had provided him with. It was to be recorded and broadcast within an hour. He sat at the desk by the window, the snowy slopes of the Lythikos mountains behind him. He gazed into the camera with sincerity, and began.

‘My dear citizens of Cordonia - although Lord Severus and I were at odds regarding the monarchy, I am deeply saddened to hear how ill he is. He is receiving the best of care, but the doctors tell me that he is extremely unlikely to recover full mobility. It is also doubtful that he will regain his mental faculties.’ he said gravely. ‘I need to go through due process, but I believe that his condition precludes him from ascending the throne. It is also evident that as Lord Severus is unable to sire an heir, and as he is the last of his line, that also means that Lady Olivia can be released from her betrothal, as set down in Cordonian law’ The camera crew couldn’t help but react to this statement, and Liam knew he would be answering some searching questions in the press conference after the broadcast. He paused to let his statement sink in before starting again.

‘Staying here in Lythikos, I am aware that I am not on home ground, and over the centuries there has been rivalry between the houses of Rys and Nevrakis. I am aware that my own father also caused disharmony with House Severus. In this day and age, I hope that we can use diplomacy and frank discussion to solve disputes between families, or Duchies or countries.’ He paused for a moment

‘The charity tour that I have instigated has proved popular, so much so that I hope to make it an annual or biennial event. Each Duchy has a chance to raise money for deserving causes, and involves all levels of society, unlike the lavish balls and other events that have been run in the past almost for the sole benefit of the nobility. Here in Lythikos, the Winter Games and the fair have proved popular, not just with Lythikans, but with Cordonians from all corners of the Kingdom. I hope that our two houses can at last co-exist in harmony and unity with strong intentions for the prosperity of all our citizens. I am open to talks with any dissidents who have disputes that have remained unsolved in recent history, or indeed with longer standing issues.’

‘In conclusion, I would like to add that I will be making another address to the nation at the end of the games. I am honoured to be responsible for the prosperity and peace of such a beautiful part of the world, and intend to reign wisely and benevolently. Thankyou.’

-------

After the broadcast, Liam went to Olivia’s lounge, to find her dressed for bed, reading a book on Lythican traditions. He stooped to land a kiss on her forehead, and she looked up, surprised.

‘What was that for?’ she asked

‘Do I need a reason?’ he asked ‘You look more relaxed this evening’

‘Not being married to a snake like Severus goes a long way toward relaxing’ she answered ‘That, and the games are going really well.’ She put her book down and stretched. Liam knelt in front of her.

I know something that would relax you more’ he smiled, crooking an eyebrow.

‘I’m sick of massages and warm baths’ she grumbled ‘I’ll be glad when I’m into my second trimester. I’m told things are much more comfortable then’

‘Neither of those’ Liam replied, tracing a finger up the inside of her calf. When he reached her knee, she put her hand on his to stop him going higher.

‘Liam’ She said, drawing a breath ‘I’m pregnant, we don’t have to…’

‘Why not?’ he replied ‘I have it on good authority that orgasms are good for mother and child’ He took his hand back and put his palm to her cheek, rising as she leant toward him for a lingering kiss. She gazed at him, and he back at her.

‘You’re beautiful. Olivia’ he breathed ‘As soon as I let off the pressure of having to declare a bride, I relaxed, and saw who you truly are. You’re loyal and strong and passionate, and you never back down. I need someone like that in my life. You complement me perfectly.’

‘Liam’ she protested, but he stayed kneeling in front of her.

‘Just hear me out’ he said ‘I’ll accept whatever terms you want. Be my Queen, my lover, my consort. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you willingly. Anything to have a loving family. You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve, but I see it. I see how selfless you were, offering to have the heir, asking nothing in return’

‘Why, Liam – what changed?’ she asked ‘You told me you weren’t capable of love, that you wanted to be free’

‘I saw what I was missing’ he said ‘I saw Bastien with Sophia, Drake with Riley – and I wanted the same. I just want to be with one person, and you – you know me inside out. I didn’t think I could expect anything like a normal relationship, but I think we could have something together. We’re a lot the same, you and I’ Olivia looked at her hands, but he caught at them.

‘Be mine, Olivia. Share your nights with me, be seen with me, stay by my side. I know you’re an independent woman, but I’d be so happy if you kept me company. Being King is a lonely job’

‘This is – well it’s not sudden, I suppose I’ve seen this coming.’ Olivia said ‘But will you feel the same this time next year?’ Liam looked thoughtful.

‘To be honest Livvy, I don’t know’ he said ‘Not for certain. But I have to try – if you’ll try with me’ Olivia nodded

‘I suppose none of us really know how things will be in the future’ she replied ‘I have given thought to your offer, but I’m not ready to answer you just yet.’

‘If it was up to me, I’d give you all the time in the world’ he said ‘But you know the sooner I announce you’re pregnant, the sooner the country will have some stability. If I can call you my Queen too, that would be incredible. I need to know by the end of the Games.’ Her eyes widened, but she nodded

‘I understand. I’ll give you an answer before your closing speech’

-------

Liam’s speech was well received, and as he had expected, he had questions to answer about Olivia, who accompanied him outside in a marquee at the Winter Fair the next morning, on the third day of the Games. The crowd demanded to hear from her, which of course Sophia had planned for, so she stepped up to the microphone.

‘I’m both honoured and humbled to have our new King, a close and long standing friend,  attend this event, and am delighted that so many citizens have come to make it such a success. As you know, funds go toward setting up a new modern Intensive Care Unit in Lythikos capital, and we are well on the way to our target.’

‘What about Lord Severus?’ someone shouted out. Olivia composed her face.

‘I am of course saddened at the circumstances that have terminated my betrothal, much as I disliked the arrangement. As you know, it was planned before my birth and enforced by a very ancient law that was extremely difficult to negate. I would rather have found a legal solution to the problem than the tragedy that befell Anton. As you all know, my aunt acted without my knowledge and consent, and she will be dealt with under the law that she upheld and which bound me by an arrangement I did not seek or want.’ She smiled at the throng of people, a thin lipped smile which nevertheless reached her eyes so that the corners crinkled in genuine benevolence.

‘Lythikos has had a long tradition of solving its problems by force and conflict, but I hope under the guidance of King Liam to bring our Duchy into the twenty first century by relying on diplomacy and negotiation. War may be glorious, but it leaves widows, widowers and orphans, and the more Lythicans there are in the world, the better we can share our culture and arts.’

‘Can you comment on your relationship with his Majesty?’ someone asked ‘You’ve been seen together a lot recently. Is there some sort of alliance coming in the future?’ Again Olivia smiled, but enigmatically.

‘Liam and his family took care of me when my parents died’ she pointed out ‘We have a deep and close bond, and it’s only natural to seek each others’ company. Lythikos is part of Cordonia, and we hope to strengthen our bonds with all the other Duchies of Cordonia now that I am free of my betrothal.’  She looked at the clock at the back of the room ‘If you will excuse me, I have an appointment with the medals committee. Please feel free to watch the games and observe the wonderful talent our country has in winter sports thanks to Lythikos.’ She stepped away from the microphone, and Liam took over.

‘Thankyou for your time and patience, ladies and gentlemen. I will also be giving a speech at the closure of the games later tomorrow. Until then, please enjoy yourselves.’ As Liam walked away from the dais, Bastien approached him.

‘Your Majesty, I need to talk to you privately’ he said, a grave expression on his face. Liam nodded, and followed the Guard into to an empty lounge in the Lodge.

‘What is it, Bastien? I need to go and join Olivia’

‘The hospital called, Sir’ he replied ‘There’s been a deterioration in Severus’s condition. As he has no relatives, they need to know whether to keep him on life support, and you appear to be the person they feel best qualified to make the decision’ Liam frowned

‘That’s not good’ he replied ‘I could be accused of maliciously terminating him if I agree to turn the machines off’

‘That is true, Sir’ he replied ‘I suggest that you put the matter to an emergency Council meeting. All the members are here’

‘That’s excellent advice. Get everyone assembled in my lounge as soon as possible’

-------

The nobles and commoners of the current Council took a vote after both Liam and Olivia abstained from the motion that Anton be taken off life support once the doctors were certain that his quality of life suffered so much that he would have less than a minimal quality of life. Under present Cordonian law, unless family members could vouch for a patient’s care, it was customary not to let cases such as his remain on artificial means of support indefinitely. The threshold of viability, as it was known, was rapidly approaching, and although Liam vowed that the law would be changed, that would take time – time that Anton didn’t have. Nobody had stepped forward to claim responsibility for his welfare, so the Council voted that the machines be switched off at the discretion of the Doctor in charge of Anton’s care.

Liam was relived, as the decision took responsibility away from him, as it did for Olivia. It was decided that only one representative of the Council would be present when the machines were turned off, but not the King, not Anton’s unwilling wife, nor the Captain of the Guard. Bastien was yet to be sworn on to the Council.

‘Poor soul’ Liam murmured to Bastien ‘I’ve heard that those who made a last minute recovery say that it’s torment. Doctor Reeve told me that they will keep him hydrated and pain free, but that’s as much as they can do for him. I can only hope that he’s not aware enough to suffer.’ Olivia sat next to him, ramrod straight, her face unreadable to those that didn’t know her well+.

‘You’re too soft’ she muttered ‘I hope he suffers for all he’s put us through – you and me, and Sophia and Riley - and Drake, and Bastien and Adelaide. The list is too long for him to leave this life peacefully’ Liam bowed his head and closed his eyes.

‘Perhaps you’re right’ he said after a while ‘I have the feeling my Father would have handled this differently, but I can’t bring myself to follow in his footsteps. I’ll be glad when it’s all over’

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd​ @texaskitten30​ @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01  @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @ravenpuff02

[talldecafcappuccino]

Title: Between Close Friends

Rating: General Audience

Chapters: 1/1

Relationship: Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton

Summary: Ted is bad at social media, but is that a bad thing?

Ted, what the fuck are you doing????

Ted peers at his phone, rubbing sleep from his eyes and reads the message again.

He scrolls down and sees he has twelve more texts and three missed calls all from Keeley Jones. He turns off his nighttime notifications with a few exceptions for emergency contacts, so it’s not surprising he slept through the messages.

He scratches at the stubble along his cheek and checks his clock. It’s seven o’clock here in Kansas, so it must be . . . early afternoon in London. He thinks through the last day, but he can’t remember anything interesting enough to have Keeley on the case.

Henry came over to his extended-stay hotel, they went to an American football game, got a late dinner in downtown Wichita, and watched a movie before bed.

They did make it on the Jumbotron for the Lasso-off, the team’s half-time dance contest, but his moves weren’t especially embarrassing. At least not in his opinion. Unless one of the moves was actually an insult to the English in which case, oh jeeze, he needs to get on this quick.

The call barely connects before Keeley’s voice echoes in his ear.

“Oy! Ted!”

“Keeley, I am so sorry for whatever I did to offend the great people of the United Kingdom. I am ready to make a statement and an apology tour as soon as you tell me which dance move I need to retire immediately.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I need you to log out of the AFC Richmond Instagram account. Like, now.”

That stops Ted in his tracks.

Does he even have access to that? He remembers a post-it note of accounts and passwords from Beard on their first day with Richmond.

There was an account run by the previous manager, but Keeley had taken it over long ago, converting it to the official team account. She had also made Ted a personal Instagram for his own use and brand development, but he never posted publicly.

He puts her on speaker phone and opens the Instagram app. She’s right. He’s logged into the team account with all 25 million followers. Well, shoot.

There are about a dozen stories posted from last night. All of Ted and Henry’s day together. There’s puns (“having a cow” at dinner with an image of Henry holding up a beef rib and screaming his head off), Ted and Henry singing at a dueling piano bar, the two brushing their teeth together in the bathroom mirror.

“No offense, but I think this may delay the Tom Ford deal you asked me about.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“It’s just, you know, dads aren’t quite their brand. Or our brand. I mean we’re not anti-dorky dad, but you know with the whole comeback narrative during the season hiatus . . .”

“No I get it. You’ve put a lot of work into rebranding this team and I just undermined that.”

She sighs, but it’s fond.

“Sorry, Ted. It’s not like what you posted was bad, it’s rather sweet actually. It’s just a little different from the posts I had scheduled.”

Ted nodded. It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him, but he felt bad for making Keeley’s job harder than it needed to be.

“No, I’m sorry Keeley. I swear, it won’t happen again.”

****

“Can you believe what Ted did last night? I’ve never seen someone so bad at social media.”

Rebecca has no idea what Keeley is talking about when she walks into her office. She flops onto the couch, feet splayed on the coffee table, clearly exhausted by whatever Ted has done from 4,438 miles away.

“So many puns. Which, don't get me wrong, I love word play more than most people. But I don’t think it’s right for the team right now.”

Rebecca shuts her laptop.

“You’re right about puns not being part of the team plan, but what’s this about Ted? What did he do, exactly?”

Ted hasn’t posted anything in at least 24 hours. Not that Rebecca is keeping track.

“Oh he managed to switch to the team account on Instagram and posted about his entire evening out with Henry. It was quite sweet, actually. The ones that made sense,” but then she pulled a face.”He’s like, really, really bad at social media.”

Oof. Well that isn’t great, but Rebecca doesn’t think there’s anything particularly terrible about Ted’s social media use normally.

“But everything seems under control? No big PR actions needed.”

“It’s fine. I had him log out and wrote a post about Coach Lasso’s surprise social media takeover from America.”

Rebecca nods. Okay, so it was all sorted. Keeley has things totally under control.

But she reaches for her phone anyway. She opens Instagram, taps through the AFC Richmond stories, and snorts at the image of Henry with the rib as big as his head.

“Are people at least being kind?” Rebecca hopes Ted logged out without seeing any messages about Henry. Not that she could see any reason for it, but people were shitheads on the internet.

“Well, wanker is still the most common response. But many of them are wanker with a little heart at the end, so I think it’s fine. We actually got a lot of responses, proper engagement and all that,” she looks up at the ceiling, considering it for a moment before rolling her head to look back at Rebecca.

“If we weren’t trying to present the team as a badass phoenix rising from the ashes, I’d say a Ted takeover isn’t a bad idea. He just needs some supervision. Maybe a phone with a better camera.”

Rebecca is only half listening as she taps to the next story.

“Aw, they went to dueling piano night. That must have been fun for Henry.”

She’s smiling at her phone when Keeley asks, “Dueling piano night?”

“Yeah, you know at Jim Bob’s Bar.”

Keeley is looking at her blankly.

“Fine. I know it’s not really Jim Bob’s bar. It’s probably not even a bar if Henry’s there. But I can’t remember the real name off the top of my head.”

She’d looked it up once, after Ted first posted about the dueling pianos. For some reason she started calling it Jim Bob’s. Ted didn’t seem bothered and had even started calling it that himself.

When she looks up again, Keeley is staring at her, eyes narrowed.

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you know so much about some bar in Kansas?”

That gives Rebecca pause. She isn’t sure what Keeley means by the line of questioning.

“It’s not some totally random bar. Ted posts about it whenever he goes for dueling pianos.”

If he gets to the bar early or she has a particularly late evening, Rebecca catches the story before going to bed. When she does, she always asks him to put in $5 for Wannabee by the Spice Girls. She owes him a small fortune by now, but it’s worth it to see the bar explode with cheers and jeers.

Some nights she misses the story, but he puts money in anyways and she wakes up to a shaky video of, Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.

Rebecca thinks this is a good enough explanation, but Keeley is still staring at her.

“I’ve literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Keeley, you know social media is not my thing. All I know is that sometimes Ted posts about this bar on his tiny friends list thing,” she waves her hand around, trying her best to describe it. “The one with the green ring around it.”

Keeley leaps to her feet, eyes wide.

“Am I not on Ted’s Close Friends list??”

Before Rebecca can say a word, Keeley is halfway out the door, texting furiously.

“Roy, better not be on there, if I’m not on there. Ted knows how I feel about being left out!” she shouts over her shoulder. “Sorry Rebecca, I need to do some investigating, asap.”

Oof. She may have just created a problem. It’s probably best to give Ted a heads up before Keeley gets through interrogating Roy.

She drafts a text once, twice, then deletes it and presses call instead.

“Hey Boss, let me guess. Keeley got a hold of you?”

It’s been a while since they’ve chatted, what with the time difference. It’s bizarre how familiar his American accent has become.

“She just left my office, yes.”

There’s a loud crack in the background and a metal clang.

“Where are you?”

“Oh, just the batting cages with Henry,” he says, cheering loudly. “Hey, do you guys have a sport called baseball that has nothing to do with American baseball? You know, like football and football?”

She chuckles, “I don’t believe we do. However there is always cricket.”

He hums, considering it.

“Now Ted, I think there’s something you should know.”

“Lay it on me Boss. I know I caused a headache this morning, what’s the damage? What do you need me to do? I am at your disposal or I’ll lay really, really low as long as you need me to.”

“It’s not that Ted. It’s Keeley.”

“Keeley?”

“Yes, she’s on a bit of a mission at the moment. It seems you left her off your Close Friends list? I think that’s right. On Instagram?”

“Huh. How did that come up?”

“I was telling her about Jim Bob’s. Apparently she had never heard of it and realized you had a whole social media life she was unaware of.”

“Right . . .”

“So do what you will with that.”

“You haven’t talked to anyone else about this yet, have you?”

Rebecca is confused by this new direction.

“No. Why? Ted, is something wrong?”

It takes a long moment for Ted to respond.

“What can I say, I’m just really bad at this social media stuff.”

It's a non-response and an overly folksy one at that. But Rebecca can’t be fooled by the aw shucks routine—not anymore. She tries again.

“Ted. Who is on your close friends list?”

“Uh. Not a lot of people.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“What can I say?” He huffs, a little frustrated. She would feel bad for prying, but she can't help herself. “The list of people I want to share silly life things with is small.”

“How small?” she wonders.

“Very small.”

The line goes silent and Rebecca swears she lost him. But then she hears him take a deep breath.

“It’s you. You’re the list.”

Rebecca feels flush. That’s not where she was expecting this conversation to go.

“I know that might be a lot. You don’t have to say anything. I just, that’s the honest truth and I’d like to get ahead of it before Keeley harangues the entire team.”

It’s a lot to take in, but it makes sense. Sometimes when she’s watching his posts, she wonders about his audience. Who else cares about his biscuit recipe improvements or Broadway Sundays (a recent development that’s turned into a shared movie night.)

“Rebecca?”

She realizes she’s been quiet for a while. The moment feels tenuous and she worries about saying the wrong thing, sending him running faster than Keeley during a social media snafu.

Finally she settles on, “You know, you’re welcome to text me silly life things. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

She brushes invisible crumbs from her desk, listening carefully to his breathing on the other end of the line.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Maybe I can send some, too?”

Rebecca can hear his smile from across the Atlantic.

“Well, alright then.”

****

That night, Ted’s phone pings and he rolls over to see a text message from Rebecca. It’s a picture of the sun rising over her garden wall.

Something silly to start the day.

But it doesn’t feel silly. Not at all.

[lampmeeting]

If you still need a toki/mags prompt, can I suggest 40 or 42? (I made this for you / is this ok?) I'd love to see anything anyone else picks instead too so don't worry about this one if there are others!

ohh thank you!! “is this ok?” grabbed at me immediately :O

this one gets a bit lewd and a little sad........sorry...(but it’s sweet!)

also post-doomstar, but maybe like 3 or 4 months after the other fic (sorry it’s mostly in magnus’ apartment again haha, the poor man doesn’t get out much)

=+=

A kiss on his way out the door became a regular occurrence. A quick press of lips, a soft sigh, a softer smile, and then Toki would head home. Magnus didn’t know what the fuck it meant, hadn’t really felt up to analyzing it yet. He just knew he liked it when it happened, and obviously it was something Toki wanted to do since he initiated every single time. Even so, once Magnus was left alone in his apartment, there would come that not-so-small voice in the back of his head screaming doubts at him, as it liked it do.

After what you’ve done, you don’t deserve this. Especially not from him.

The next time Toki flew over, Magnus had promised to take him to that really nice aquarium over in Scottsdale. Toki had been talking about it for weeks and texting him pictures from their website. “They gots the movings stairs with a fish tanks all arounds you!” And he was right, they did, and Toki dragged Magnus up and down that escalator at least a dozen times.

Well, maybe dragged was a strong word. Aggressively encouraged, perhaps. Magnus wasn’t really a fish guy, but he had to admit his heart swelled with affection as Toki stared up at the curved glass of the tunnel, pointing out fish as he saw them and tugging at Magnus’ arm.

“Looks at that ones! Oh oh! That ones! And those ones! Oh, wowee!”

The touch pools were Toki’s favorite, though. He flinched with a squeak each time he poked a grippy sea anemone, and he gazed with wonder at the scuttling underside of a horseshoe crab as one of the handlers showed it off to him and a bunch of gathered kids. He tried to get Magnus to pet the stringrays but every time one started to glide close Magnus lost his nerve and popped his hand out of the water to a chorus of children’s laughter. He really wasn’t a fish guy. Still, the brief humiliation seemed worth it if only to hear Toki’s laughter like music over the other voices.

After a visit to the gift shop, they rode the bus back to the Home for Wayward Musicians where Magnus was still set up. Things were...better, he supposed. The job was good. He wouldn’t say rewarding exactly, but it was whatever. And he wasn’t being kept tabs on so strictly anymore, had more freedoms. Still didn’t have a car, but Toki had convinced Offdensen to have a proper lock installed in the door and to remove the security cameras. Dude wasn’t even their manager anymore and he was still taking care of shit. Magnus understood that inability to walk away.

Once inside, Toki took a running dive onto the sofa, hugging his new stuffed whale, sprawled out on his back. “This was the best days evers!”

Magnus peered down at him, resting elbows on the back cushions, exhausted and achy in his chest, but content. “Glad you had fun, buddy.”

“And you hads fun, toos?”

He did, actually. “Yeah.”

Toki smiled, smooshing his cheek into the fuzzy whale. “That’s good to hears.”

Magnus realized he was smiling back and cleared his throat, ears warm. “You wanna get a pizza or something? I dunno about you, but that jellyfish funnel cake in the food court didn’t really do it for me.”

Toki’s eyes twinkled. “Yes please! Ooo!” He sat straight up. “Cans we gets that place whats has the reallies good, um, tir--tirs--um, tirmas--”

“Tiramisu? You mean Parlor?”

“Yeps!” Just as Magnus was about to fret about the cost, Toki added, “I wants to pays for it, toos.”

“What? No way, you’re visiting me. You’re not paying for dinner.” That hurt to say because Parlor was fucking expensive as hell, but it was the principle of the damn thing. He was trying to be a less shitty person, after all. And besides, Toki was only able to come see him every couple weeks, so in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t too terrible.

“But you pays for the aquariums,” Toki said. “And the bus. Ands my whale.”

Magnus felt like he was arguing over the check at the end of a date. No, no, honey, of course you’re not paying. Put your wallet away, this is my treat.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re my guest and I wasn’t raised in a fucking barn. I’ve got this, so don’t you even--uh, what’re you doing?” He almost laughed. “Are you texting right in the middle of me fucking talking to you?”

Toki was on his phone, tapping away with his thumbs, the whale nestled in his arms. His tongue poked out and Magnus fell silent, watching it play across his wet lips. Oh, that was...oh.

After a moment, Toki held up his screen with a smug grin. “Ha! Reads it and weeps!”

Magnus blinked hard to clear the daze from his head and squinted. Order Completed - Thank You! Oh, that crafty bastard had ordered the pizza online! “Hey, not cool, man. You can’t just do that!”

Toki sat there and giggled up at him. “But I dids it!”

The pizza came (Toki had picked Magnus’ favorite, the margherita, damn him) and they ate and watched Dirty Harry and had a few beers. Magnus was still feeling a little gripey about Toki getting the upper hand, but about halfway through the movie Toki finished off the last bite of his tiramisu and reclined into Magnus’ shoulder, and that improved his mood more than he wanted to admit.

“I likes this movie.”

“It’s a classic for a reason,” Magnus said, casually throwing his arm around the guy. Couch cuddles were a normal thing for them now--just something else he refused to think about too hard. It was enough to just enjoy it.

As he settled in a little closer, Toki made a small, relaxed sound in the back of his throat that could’ve easily doubled as a moan, and Magnus’ heart throbbed with a weird skip. His breath caught for a second and heat pooled heavy in his hips. Fuck, he was not doing this right now. He was too old to get hot and bothered just from the sound of someone’s voice. And it didn’t help that Toki kept shifting and rubbing up on him.

Thoughts racing, he traced fingers up and down Toki’s arm and tried to keep his breathing steady for the rest of the movie, barely noticing when Toki snickered at the tits in the topless bar or gasped as Harry dodged bullets fired through the roof of the school bus. When it ended Toki yawned into his whale and announced that he should probably have the jet brought around and start the long flight back home.

Magnus suddenly realized he didn’t want Toki to go at all. Sometimes he had thoughts like that, but never this strong. He wanted to hold Toki snug to him and tell him to call the jet off. He wanted to watch another movie. Play a fucking game. Talk. Anything to keep him in the apartment. But he didn’t say anything, just let Toki get up from his arms and stretch until his fit stomach peeked out between shirt and pants.

He averted his eyes, saw the whale still left on the couch. “You taking this guy?”

“Nopes, he can lives with you. He keeps you company whiles I’m gone so you don’ts gets lonely, okay?"

Magnus’ throat tightened just a bit. “Okay.”

They walked to the door and Toki grabbed him around the middle in a loose hug, grinning up at him. “It was goods to sees you, Magnus. You ams doins, um, reallies great, and I’ms, um.” The grin twitched a little and he went kinda pink high up on his cheekbones. “I’ms prouds of you. S-Sorries, that sounds silly, I thinks...”

“No,” Magnus said quickly, “it’s, uh. It’s fine. That’s good to hear, actually. You, uh--” He swallowed. “--you make it easier, y’know.”

Toki’s eyes went wide and round and looked like two twin aquariums in his head. “Toki...helps?”

“Well...yeah, of course you do, buddy. Of course you do.”

“Oh.” Toki trembled against him. “Ohh, wowee.” Then he craned his neck up and pushed his lips to Magnus’, kissing him firmly. He was delicious, tasting of rich coffee and sugary marscapone. Magnus savored it and waited for him to pull away like he usually did, but Toki twisted fingers in his shirt and moaned and didn’t let him go.

Holy shit, this was new.

And Magnus wanted it.

He reached to cup Toki’s jaw delicately with one hand, his other sliding down to hold him at the small of his back. Toki shuddered and his mouth fell open, deepening the kiss, and he forced Magnus backwards until they thudded into the wall.

“Oof--”

“Sorries.”

“S’fine.”

They continued their crushing kiss and Magnus drew Toki’s hips against his own. Toki gasped, rocked into him, and fuck the guy was already hard. All right, so this was certainly a thing that was happening.

Magnus slipped his hands under the hem of Toki’s shirt to grip at his waist, marveling as core muscles flexed and moved beneath his fingers. How was he in such good shape? What did he do? Magnus tried to think back to when he was that young, all the energy in the world, could get his dick up at the drop of a hat. Better times, man. Could’ve done without the raging smack habit, but, y’know, live and learn.

Fuck, Toki wasn’t slowing down. His breath was fast and needful as Magnus raked hands over him everywhere he could touch. “Magnus--” The kiss broke for a second, long enough for Toki’s pleas to leak out. “More--”

Magnus brushed lips teasingly along Toki’s jaw, his earlobe, down the length of his neck, earning a shaky “oh, fucks”. The earthy smell of the day’s sweat filled his nose, but also the distant scent of strawberries. God damn, was that his shampoo? It made his mouth water and his senses swoon. As he reached the base of his throat, Toki let his head tip back into Magnus’ waiting hand, surrendering to him with a shivering groan.

All right, now was Magnus was hard. He could get off just listening to this. But as he took a moment to adjust himself in his jeans, reality, unfortunately, caught up to him. Every doubt he’d been stuffing down, every nagging feeling that lingered in the wake of Toki’s goodbye kisses, they crowded in on him now and demanded to be dealt with. He pulled back and Toki rubbed bleary eyes, obviously confused.

“What’s wrongs?”

Magnus tried to steady his breath. He didn’t know how to explain himself. “Just, uh. I dunno, Toki. Is this...okay?”

Toki seemed to sober a bit at the question. “Is whats okay?”

“What we’re doing.”

“Magnus.” Toki heaved a frustrated sigh. “Is totallies normal for two mens to kiss each others and be--”

“I know that,” Magnus said, and he couldn’t help the slight laugh that huffed out of him. “I know that very well, trust me. No, I meant, like, us specifically. Is this okay for us.”

“I thinks sos. Why wouldn’ts it?”

“Because of, well--” Over Toki’s shirt, he pressed a palm to his back where he knew the knife scar still marked his skin. “This.”

Toki had shown him the scar a few months ago, was almost excited to. He’d said the lights had made him heal faster and better than he should’ve, and the scar was only barely raised and felt smooth to the touch. Magnus still didn’t know what he thought about lights and gods and prophecies. It all felt so far away from him, and when he thought about what he had seen that night, the star and the bolts of white electricity, Toki felt far away too, even moreso than he was already.

“Oh,” said Toki. “Right. That.”

“Yeah.”

“I know we don’ts...talks about it very much,” Toki said, looking down and fiddling with the buttons on Magnus’ shirt. They really should talk about it more, Magnus resolved. It would be good for both of them. “But, um. Evens though you hurt me and dids bad things, ams givins you the second chance. I know you wasn’ts my friends before, but you ams my friends now. And you makes me happy, and I cares about you, so I’ms not gonna gives up on you.”

Magnus’ heart beat in his throat. That just might’ve been the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. “I...care about you, too.” He tried to squeeze out more words, like thank you for one, but there was an honest to god possibility he’d start to choke up.

Toki seemed to understand his difficulty and smiled as he brought Magnus’ hand back to the curve of his cheek. “Kiss me agains.”

“If youre sure it’s okay.”

“Is more than okays.”

This time it was tender and unhurried, still just as heated but without the frantic urgency, very unlike any kiss Magnus has ever experienced. There was a love in it, something gentle, something that made him ache so sweetly inside and at the same time catch fire.

“I don’ts wants to go,” Toki sighed into his mouth.

“Then don’t go,” Magnus said, burning, their foreheads touching. “I’m so fucking tired of missing you when you’re gone. Stay with me tonight? Please?” To say please, to ask for such a thing aloud so blatantly, it was like cracking his chest open all over again, exposing his heart.

Toki nodded, rubbing their noses together, and he took Magnus by the wrists and drew him away from the door. “Lets me takes you to bed.”

“Toki...”

“Lets me takes care of you.”

Magnus allowed himself to be led. And in the comforting darkness of the bedroom, with his arms curled over Toki’s strong shoulders, he allowed himself to be loved.