#shout out TA serv for the idea

[thel1ghtningthief]

Wrath of the Triple Goddess bingo because im scared

*bottom left is referring to Ganymede. It wasnt that bad but it seriously did not sit right with me

*"Blanche'd" is when a perfectly good child of a minor god iS RIGHT THERE but Rick makes a new one-dimensional character instead of expanding on his existing ones (BUTCH I LOVE YOU)

[layla4567]

Vaccines are good

Dad!Colin Zabel x Mom!fem!reader

Summary: You and your husband Colin make up a happy family, Colin turned out to be a great father and you both love your little son. But can the detective get out of trouble when they take his son to be vaccinated?

Warnings: fluffy things and mention of needles and childhood illnesses of course

Word count: 2.8k ***************

Colin was preparing lunch while Alex was sitting at the table drawing with his crayons. The handsome detective smashed two eggs into the pan, adding salt, pepper and coriander and then began to beat them with the fork. He would take care of preparing something else for Alex, over time he had learned that the little one didn't like omelettes. He arranged the food on the plates and served them on the table waiting for you to get home from work.

"Hey champion, what are you drawing?" Colin asked, bringing his face closer to the sheet of paper.

The boy happily held the paper up with pride. "It's you with your police car!"

Colin smiled when he saw himself in that drawing. The colors spilled out of the lines but the detective could clearly be seen standing next to his car, which had the dome lights on, shining red and blue. Alex was very proud of his father and always said that when he grows up he wants to be like him, he even often wore his father's clothes and played cops and robbers with his schoolmate. Colin always laughs but obviously he worries that his son will be involved in a dangerous and stressful job like that.

"It's amazing kid! you even drew the details of my uniform, you are talented!"

Alex's cheeks turned tulip-pink with pure joy as he smiled widely. The boy was a carbon copy of his father, same eyes, same hair and every time he smiled you saw Colin. Suddenly there was a sound of keys opening the door and a sweet voice announced their arrival.

"It's mom!!" Alex got out of his chair running towards the door while you opened it laughing at his enthusiasm. Colin also came to meet you.

"Hey! How was my teddy bear today?"

You scooped Alex into your arms as you planted a loud, slobbery kiss on his cheek. The little boy laughed and then with a grimace of disgust he wiped his cheek without stopping laughing, his face was so funny that it infected you with laughter. You weren't afraid to show how much you loved your son even if you were a little clingy at times.

"Hi sweetie, welcome home." Colin hugged you around the waist and kissed you tenderly on the lips.

"Ew..". The boy said, making a disgusted face and looking away.

Colin laughed tenderly. "Why don't you show mommy what you did today, huh?"

The boy nodded with great enthusiasm and jumping happily.

"Let's see Alex, show me"

Your son grabbed your hand and quickly led you to the table where his little drawing rested. With both hands he raised it to the level of his face.

"Ta-daa!! Guess who it is!!"

You gasped in surprise as you grabbed the drawing from the boy's small hands. You looked at it carefully while smiling sweetly. The proportions of the things he had drawn were not perfect but they seemed adorable to you.

"Oh my god Alex, it's beautiful! And It's daddy! and with his police car of course"

"Yeah!! you guessed it!". Alex smiled at you with that gap between his frontal paddles that seemed so tender and pretty to you.

"Let's hang your drawing on the refrigerator door, what do you think, honey?"

Your son shouted yes and you gave Colin a smiling look.

"I think it's a great idea babe"

While you placed the drawing under two magnets Colin asked his son what he wanted for lunch.

"Ok little champ, what do you want for lunch? You don't want an omelet, right?"

Alex shook his head vigorously while sticking out his tongue in a grimace of disgust.

Colin smiled in amusement. "Alright, alright. How about pasta?"

"Yay I love pasta!!"

The detective laughed amused, it was no secret that your son loved Italian food. you turned around looking at them happily.

"Ok, then pasta will be"

Your husband had gotten up from his seat to put the noodles in a pot when Alex sneezed loudly. Colin stopped halfway looking at you while you approached Alex with concern.

"What was that, hun?" You gently took his chin in your hand, inspecting him.

"I don't know, mommy". Alex sniffed the snot with his nose as he wiped it on a sleeve.

"I already told you not to wipe your snot on your sleeve, you'll make it dirty."

"Sorry mom.."

You looked for a disposable tissue in your purse that Colin handed you and leaned close to your son's face.

"Come here"

You carefully wiped his nose while inspecting his nasal passages for any possible infection or irritation but found nothing alarming.

"Well It seems like you don't have any infection, maybe it's a simple allergy. "My love, was he like this all day?" You turned to look at your husband who returned a worrying look.

"Actually no, he was perfect. Just now he started sneezing"

You put your arms on your hips as you looked at your son thoughtfully who looked back at you a little scared.

"But he had already had a cold last week, right?"

Colin nodded. You still remembered what it had been like last week. Alex had had a fever and cough and had stayed in bed resting as the doctor had said. The poor thing couldn't leave the house to play with his friends and spent time eating soups that he considered very bland.

Worried, you walked quickly to your bedroom to look for Alex's vaccination record. You checked that everything was in order, Alex had all the vaccines from when he was a few months old baby. But he was missing the measles vaccine, which he had to get at age 5. Alarmed, you returned to the kitchen with the booklet in your hand. Alex had a terrified face when he saw it, he already knew that the storm was about to break loose.

"Colin, Alex doesn't have the measles vaccine and he's already 6, he must get it as soon as possible".

When the little boy heard the word vaccine, he jumped in his chair.

"Sure, it makes sense. The symptoms are fever, cough and runny nose, that's what he suffered last week"

"Come on, bring the car keys, we have to take him to the nearest hospital".

The detective grabbed the keys that were hanging on a cute keychain on the wall hand painted by Alex and you grabbed your purse and put on a jacket. When you called your son, he got out of the chair scared, getting as far away from the two of you as possible.

"NO!". He yelled

The two of you were about to open the door when the child's scream made you turn around to see him. When the little naughty boy made sure he had both of your attention, he returned to the charge, shouting.

"I DON'T WANNA GO TO THE DOCTOR AND I DON'T WANT VACCINES!!!"

Alex crossed his arms angrily as he furrowed his eyebrows so tightly that his forehead became wrinkled.

"Alexis Zabel!"

You put your hands on your hips, also furrowing your eyebrows, looking at him defiantly, you could play that game too. Everyone in the family knew that when you called your son by his full name it was because you had exhausted your patience and he was in serious trouble.

Colin took a step forward, trying to calm the atmosphere and cut the tension that would be felt in the air.

"Come on Alex, don't make mom angry, don't make it harder".

The detective approached with his arms open to grab his son but the boy was faster and ran screaming towards his room as if he had a rocket up his ass.

"NOOOOO!"

You ran in his direction, annoyed. "Alexis come here immediately!"

Colin grabbed your arm. "Wait, let me talk to him."

You huffed in agreement while your husband smiled at you, caressing your wrist. Colin headed to his son's room. His dark wooden door was decorated with posters of dinosaurs and robots. He knocked on the door twice.

"Alex? It's me, daddy. Can I come in?"

The man heard Alex's muffled voice from being behind the thick door giving him a negative answer, from his tone of voice he seemed still angry.

"Please son I just want to talk I promise"

Zabel waited anxiously by the door when a slight movement of the handle made him sigh in relief. Alex's chubby face barely peeked out of the space he had left open.

"Fine, come in"

Colin walked in smiling. Alex's room was quite big. The walls were decorated with drawings and posters of his favorite cartoons. There were also shelves with dolls and stuffed animals piled up, many of them were dinosaurs, he loved them. His toy trunk also had fire engines, tanks and racing cars that the boy had even taken charge of naming. The bed where the boy was sitting was shaped like a car and his blankets had drawings of prehistoric animals and plants. Colin sat next to his son who remained very serious.

"Listen Al, I know you don't want to get vaccinated but it's for your own good.". Colin used to use that pet name with his son.

"Adults always say that". Alex crossed his arms and turned his face away so as not to see his father.

"But it's because it's the truth. You know?, when I was your age I didn't want to get vaccinated either."

Alex's little face lit up in surprise as she turned to look at him. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Look, if you promise to behave like the brave boy I know you are, on the way out, I promise to buy you the biggest ice cream you want".

"You promise?". Said the boy smiling

Colin extended his pinky in promise. "Pinky promise, kid"

Alex intertwined his pinky with his father's, laughing happily as they both left the room, but not before grabbing a toy car for Alex to entertain himself and calm down. You continued waiting at the door impatiently moving one foot up and down until you saw them leave the room.

"We can go now". Your husband said smiling.

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

The ride to the hospital was quite quiet, from time to time you would take quick glances at Alex who was calmly playing with his toy in the back seat. Colin sensed your nervousness and grabbed your hand firmly, smiling at you while he held the steering wheel with the other.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine." He whispered to you

You nodded, smiling. Everything seemed calm and correct, but when he arrived at the establishment and got out of the car, Alex saw the facade of the hospital and the fear returned to him, so he started screaming and kicking to get back to the car. You grabbed your son's hand, pulling him with Colin's help to get him into the hospital but Alex couldn't stop crying. The detective crouched down next to his son.

"Remember what we talked about, if you continue like this there will be no ice cream"

Colin's slightly threatening tone brooked no reply. Alex was going to say something but upon looking into his father's intimidating eyes he decided to remain silent. So, with a dejected air and the face of a lamb about to go to the slaughterhouse, they headed inside the building. Of course the boy carried the toy car under his arm. In the waiting room there were many children more or less his age, some teenagers and babies a few months old. With a sad and scared face, Alex sat between his parents to await his fatal fate. The other children also seemed somewhat dejected.

You knew how tortuous it is for a child to be vaccinated, you still remember when you went nervously to the waiting room to get an injection when you were a child. And honestly the screams and cries that came from the door where the vaccines were given was not exactly relaxing. That's why you took your son's delicate hand in yours, squeezing it gently to give him warmth, courage and protection.

"Sweetheart, you can do it, I trust you. And when we get into the room I will be with you the entire time and I will hold your hand so it doesn't hurt."

Your son wiped a small tear that was almost dry from his rosy cheek and looked at you with a shy smile.

"Alright, if you say so..."

The hours passed and the waiting room was emptying. There were only two people left ahead of you. Many of the children came out smiling with tears in their eyes, others didn't say anything and looked at the ground as they walked. Then a plump older woman called them by Alex's full name. The little boy did not want to go but he remembered his father's promise and bravely squeezed your hand and headed to the room while your husband sat waiting outside.

The injection room was beige and the walls were decorated with paintings of animals to calm the children, you weren't sure if it really worked. There was also a medium-sized window with baby blue curtains that overlooked a garden full of flowering bushes. You directed your distracted gaze there when the woman brought you out of your thoughts.

"Okay, so this is little Alex Zabel."

The lady was wearing a dark blue nurse's uniform and was smiling affably. You looked at your son who could only look down holding on to his toy car.

"Oh it's ok honey, it'll just be a little prick". The woman said

Alex's eyes were starting to water again so you tenderly wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a protective gesture. "Sweetie everything will be fine, you'll see"

The nurse told Alex to sit in a chair and roll up the sleeve of his shirt so she could give him the injection. She also asked him which arm he wanted the injection in and the boy pointed to his left arm. The good-natured woman began to prepare the needle, taking one out of a sterilized envelope that was in a plastic box full of them. When you saw them, a slight chill ran down your spine. You still remembered your first vaccine as if it were yesterday and you understood everyone more than ever. those children who came out crying.

Alex also saw the needles and buried his face in your chest, scared. You grabbed her hand and whispered the words you had said before "Remember, mommy is here and I won't let go of your hand."

The little boy nodded and sat up straight in his chair, squeezing your hand tightly as he showed his left arm to the nurse. She tapped the needle with her gloved hands to make the liquid go down.

"Alright, little Alex, take a deep breath."

Alex closed his eyes tightly until his nose wrinkled and he squeezed your hand even harder as it started to hurt, never underestimate the strength of a scared 6 year old child. It was barely a second until the nurse announced that she was finished.

"Done! You see it wasn't that big of a deal?".She laughed sweetly

Your son opened his brown eyes wide and looked at his arm in surprise, looking for any cut or wound, both women laughed and the nurse carefully squeezed his arm with cotton.

"Hold this cotton in your arm for a few minutes, then you could throw it away. Aaand." The woman took out a red popsicle from a jar and handed it to the child who was looking with bright, greedy eyes. "This is for you, for being such a brave child."

"That's very kind, thank you" You said to the nurse and looked at your son "You thank her too, Alex."

The little one had already put the lollipop in his mouth without thinking twice and didn't even take it out to respond "Thzank yough"

Mother and son left the small room hand in hand, happy and laughing. Colin was already standing waiting for them with a relieved smile on his face.

"So? How did my little champion do?"

"Oh he was incredible, he didn't cry even once"

"And look daddy!!, the nurse gave me a lollipop for being good!"

"Oh look at that!"

Colin lifted the boy into his arms giving him a kiss on the cheek while you held his toy.

"It seems that today you are going to stuff yourself with so many sweet things"

"What does that mean?". You asked funny and curious

"It means daddy will buy me ice cream!!!"

Colin looked down, smiling a little embarrassed for not telling his wife about the deal.

"Oh yeah? Well I guess daddy can buy ice cream for everyone too." You said laughing and giving your husband a kiss on the cheek.

Colin laughed and agreed to pay for the other ice creams. They returned to the car happy, heading to the nearest ice cream parlor, eager to try that sweet and frozen dessert.

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

I have read many stories where Colin is the father of a girl, so I wanted to write a story where he had a son.

By the way, I wrote this after reading the @sweeter-innocence-fics fic. Thanks for being an inspiration for this, you can read her Colin fic here

[mimikomimeko]

Untiltled DMC song

In the lands that we call home, there are creatures from another planet that spit in our faces and call us freaks and weak minded masses...

they shout at us with hatred in their hearts, no matter how much kindness we give them, they return with spite...

and they even turn on eachother when they accept our unity. no matter what these otherworldly creatures from outer space must be dealt with in the most kindest ways we know how...

but as tensions rise and jyezters get hurt, one has taken the ancient approch and fighting style of the

BACKHANDED BACKSASS BITCH SLAP

Toss my piece to the side to give a piece of my mind,

VehkTeeri bog bastard, rep'in' the last of my kind!

With the grater like scales on the back of my hand,

I'll straight grill yer ass like a skillet wok pan!

Fuck with them 'zzos outta Ringling, they'll get'cha!

But my ass gets dibs, dibs, dibs, in the mixture

of my hush and their alley we'll knock you dead to the floor!

We're schoolin' bigoted aliens in our ballroom of war!

Part Myme, Cloune, Harrlle, Lizzar and time lord-

7 hearts and talkin' shit with my rash vocal cords!

Chords of death, pain, then suddenly triumph, no breaks

We're gonna stick slap these fakes from outer space!

As the masses came in on their loud rockets crashing into the dirt of the wastelands, abandoned, as we've abandoned our warful rage, the lone Jyezter could not do it alone...

He called upon a second Jyezter, with the forgotten style of the

SNACKTIME OF SPECTACULAR SLAUGHTER

Full moons out, i part from my pack on the attack,

with hunger in my tummy and the moonlight on my back.

Urthe Bigots on patrol, transmit back what they see:

Moonlight, Red eyes, then my Neon teeth!

POUNCE! One little piggie with his hand in my mouth!

BOUNCE! Off to the next piggie try 'ta run south!

POUNCE! That little piggie, tear his throat with my claws, now

This last bigotty piggity gets her fuckin eyes plucked out!

Süki the WhereBitch, as in the bitch you can't see

In the darkness behind you dumb fuckin' flightless piggies!

SOOWEE!!! SOOWEE!!! gotcha bitchasses shakin' and quakin',

Couldn't seek me fast enough, now ya long pork and bacon!

The bulk of the invaders had surrendered and went to serve their detention until they were fit to be apart of the society they had waged hatred toward, thing's were at peace on the Jyezters planet once more.

But word had not reached the invading planet of Urthe, where our last of the trio was unleashing

ESSENCE OF ERRATIC ESPIONAGE

Slipping though the operation's of their militants and navals,

I concluded that these lot are a bunch of faded out fake hos,

dead patrols in broom closets limp dipshits met defeat,

Up in their grand white castle, seeking out their chief.

Be quick and quiet, if caught, lives become frugal.

if all plans fail, at least be ruthless and brutal.

An eye for an eye makes my ears become visioners,

Scary Lady Silent Kayti takes no fucking prisoners.

I enter the ovary office space, I'm met with the chief,

Who is kind enough with niceties while lying through his teeth.

Crossbow and pin the fucker to the wall, over his puddle of piss,

Give them bigots an idea of who the fuck they're trifling with.

[pennzance]

Ghostbusters: Port Huron (Episode 19)

Episode 19: Captain Hatchet

October 4th, 1998

Incident report by Bryan

On a Sunday. Man, screw this guy.

We’ve been on high alert for the last few days because of Dan’s cryptic warning schtick. I was really hoping it wasn’t going to be on Sunday, but of course it was. When the traffic is always at its worst.

At about 4pm (again, on a SUNDAY), we got a call from the Coast Guard. A vessel has been spotted on Lake Huron flying very old flags and, when approached, firing actual cannons at people. A Coast Guard vessel had gone out and been sunk, and the waterlogged men who had been pulled from the water by a daring speedboat driver doing his own thing had stated that the vessel was captained by a transparent pirate.

Cue us. While Jeremy, Amber, Eric and Kelly took the Ecto-908 to the Coast Guard station, Jason and I went a little further down the St. Lawrence River to the Lightship Museum. I can’t say I was surprised that the engine of the ancient boat was running, but I appreciated Dan being ready.

“Ready ta cast off, me bucko!” Dan crowed from the upper level of the ship, obviously having the time of his afterlife.

“You can’t just steal a museum and sail it into a naval engagement!” I shouted up at him.

Dan didn’t care. “All aboard who’s comin’ aboard! Bring them fancy lightnin’ guns o’ yers, we’re gonna need ‘em!”

I dragged Jason aboard and almost immediately the Lightship drifted away from the dock, much to the surprise and shouted questions of the manager standing impotently on the shore. The entire ship had a shimmer to it, almost like it was covered in a thin layer of oil, but it wasn’t slick to the touch. “Dan, what the hell?” Jason managed to shout. He was acclimating quickly.

“Gotta move quick,” I heard Dan say, although his voice wasn’t coming from any particular direction. “If Hatchet gets to the bridges, he’ll be in the wind and we’ll never catch ‘im.”

I could see the Bluewater Bridges from our vantage point on the river, and a bit ahead of us the Coast Guard were casting off their second, smaller boat with the rest of the team on board. There was some other traffic on the water in the river, but the sight of the old Lightship unmoored and moving was making the ones who weren’t stopping to stare vacate the area with all haste.

There was an absolutely unnatural fog rolling in from the lake. The Bluewater Bridges that connected Port Huron and the United States to Sarnia and Canada stood at the mouth of the river, where the St. Lawrence met Lake Huron and served as a channel all the way down to Lake Eerie. We were making good speed upstream, moving slightly faster than the Coast Guard and slowly overtaking them as we approached the bridges.

The fog was even thicker here, but the Lightship’s light shone like the sun and cut through a lot of the gloom. Jason and I stood on the bow of the ship, and the others lined the sides of the Coast Guard boat, all of us peering into the fog for some sign of Captain Hatchet’s vessel.

“Dan,” I asked in the sudden and crushing stillness, “what should we expect?”

“Trouble,” Dan replied, his voice sounding strained.

“Why can’t we let him past the bridge?” Jason wondered aloud.

“Gateway between two worlds,” Dan responded. “I been keepin’ this sonuvabitch kickin’ around the lake fer th’ better part of a century. Whenever he gets his gumption up, he makes a run fer the bridges and I have ta find a way ta stop ‘im. I usually commandeer one o’ them bigass cargo haulers and just run his sorry hide over, them big ships barely feel the bump. But now we’ve got a unique opportunity to put ‘im in a prison he can’t get out of.”

“What happens if he crosses the threshold?” I asked.

“Nothin’ good,” Dan’s voice came back. “Maybe he lives again, maybe he rips open the world. No idea, don’t wanna find out.”

“Agreed.”

There was a tense silence, unbroken as the bow of a schooner came into view. I was expecting an old, two masted pirate ship straight out of the movies. What I got was a hodgepodge of naval engineering from the last hundred years or so. Some wood, some aluminum hull, a single mast, no sail. Standing proudly on the bow, like he owned the entire lake, was the ghost of Captain Archibald Fitzsimmons, the infamous Captain Hatchet.

This was a man who, when the natives scalped settlers in the region, took it upon himself to scalp them right back, and then go further. A man who murdered so many women and children and braves that were he to have stood trial for the crimes his consecutive life sentences would have interred him for a thousand years longer than his lifespan would have allowed. If those crimes had been considered crimes when he sailed the lakes, that is. In many ways, Hatchet was the tool of the colonizers who were all too eager to drive the indigenous people of America not just off their lands, but off their mortal coils entirely. The blood may have been on his hands directly, but figuratively that blood stretched all the way to New York and Massachusetts and Delaware to families that profited from the wholesale slaughter of nations they didn’t care to recognize as nations, let alone humans.

We wasted no time in lighting his ass up.

Dancing beams of fire and fury cut into Hatchet’s ships from either side, but if the captain was worried or shocked, he didn’t show it. On the contrary, he bellowed a challenge and I heard a thunderclap. The Lightship pitched to the side and I had to grab the rail to keep from falling over. Cannon fire? I looked around and sure enough, the railing and the door beyond it leading into the Lightship was a smoking hole.

“DAN!” I shouted involuntarily as the ship pitched back the other way on the waves.

“I’m on it!” the voice was like a thunderclap itself and the Lightship began to turn toward Hatchet’s Frankenstein-like vessel. I tried to steady myself but had to duck something flying through the air. Living up to his name, the bastard was actually throwing hatchets at us.

“Reload!” I heard him bellow over the adrenaline in my ears.

“Roast his ass!” Jason shouted, bracing a foot on the railing and firing again. I followed his lead, and I don’t know who it was that hit him, but someone did. Hatchet shot backwards and onto the deck of his own ship. Shots from the Coast Guard boat knocked him over again as he tried to stand back up.

And that’s when we rammed him.

The Lightship may have been old, but it was a single ship and solidly built. Hatchet’s boat was such a mashed-together hodgepodge that it came apart at the seams on impact, breaking into disparate parts that began to sink at different speeds. The Bane of the Huron didn’t let that slow him down, leaping up and onto the deck of the Lightship and brandishing a very real and very sharp looking cutlass.

Jason and I wheeled around to blast him, but Hatchet was too fast. He ducked my beam and sidestepped Jason’s, lunging forward with that terrifying sword.

Suddenly Dan was just THERE, cavalry saber in hand and deftly parrying the wild lunge. The blades clashed at speeds I was having trouble following, but while Dan was the better swordsman Hatchet was more ferocious. It wasn’t like they could kill each other, but it was a hell of a fight to watch.

The Coast Guard pulled up alongside us and I caught Dan giving me a look in between blade strokes. I nodded and, heedless of who I hit, fired. Dan was ready to give himself up without a fight if it meant Hatchet was caught as well.

“Catch ‘em both!” I shouted, and Jason caught on. Jeremy and Amber joined in right after, and Eric and Kelly followed up. Hatchet realized what was happening and tried to get away, tried anything really, but the combination of Dan and our firepower was forcing him to panic.

We both kicked our traps across the deck, but a deep booming sound shook both ships again. Hatchet’s amalgamated mess must have still been able to fire whatever spectral artillery it had even though it was sinking. Water spouted up between the Lightship and the Coast Guard and the ships pitched away from each other on the swell. I panicked and stomped down on my trap, but everything slid on the deck and the piercing light cut ineffectually into the fog.

Over the noise, I didn’t hear it coming until it hit us from behind. Jason and I went head over heels across the deck and I heard Dan swear loudly. By the time I could stand up, Hatchet was gone, flying through the air on the back of a horse with bat wings.

Confusion and shouting took over as we all tried to understand what had just happened, but I couldn’t stop myself from following the dwindling shape of Captain Archibald Fitzsimmons and his demonic-looking steed as they swooped down and beneath the Bluewater Bridges, vanishing into thin air.

And the air below the bridges rippled like the surface of the water.

We’d lost. I turned to Dan but he was gone. His presence was gone. The Lightship was a drifting, lifeless hulk now. Everyone was shouting questions, asking if the others were okay, coordinating how to drag the Lightship back to shore, and I just stood there, hands frozen to the rail.

We’d lost.

Now what?

End of report.

[honestlywtfisgoingon]

When You Weren’t Looking — pt. 3/?

PROFESSOR!OBI-WAN x READER

PART 2

an au where you and you literature professor realize you both have things to learn about love, and yourselves, outside of class. (as we all know, this can only be done through a big scoop of angst and a smutty cherry on top)

summary: sober-wan is gone

warnings: language, alcohol, anakin being the best and the worst at the same time (he’s gonna be v present in the series so idk if that’s a warning to u or not lol) satine

a/n: if y/n didn’t have a crush on obi then she would def have one on padme. im also entertaining the idea of dragging out the time before the smut and then throwing that shit in every chapter lmao. btw this is mostly dialogue and idk how to feel abt that yet

word count: 2,479

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and shook it to gain his attention.

“hmm?” he stopped scanning for places to sit and turned his head towards Anakin instead. Anakin grabbed both of his shoulders this time, turning him around fully so that Obi-Wan could see what he was already looking at.

“Isn’t she in your fourth-period class? Yeah, she is! The one you’re giving extra credit to,”

Anakin pointed at you standing behind the bar. You were serving drinks to an annoyed-looking woman and the rowdy group a couple of chairs over. Your head leaned back as you laughed at something they did. They weren’t disrespectful or anything, just having a bit of fun. They had come to celebrate the end of the work week by getting drinks at the bar, just as Obi-Wan and Anakin had come to do, except they were not aware of the small detail that was you being the bartender.

Obi-Wan clicked his tongue as he slapped Anakin's hand down. He was too late though, as you saw them standing in the doorway from across the room.

“Shit, sorry,” Anakin said sheepishly.

You didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered, a little surprised maybe, but the same could not be said of Obi-Wan. You waved, too far away for him to notice the blush on your cheeks. He returned it awkwardly as Anakin shouted your name, just loud enough to make it over the music.

He took a step forward, but paused when he noticed Obi-Wan still rigid next to him. He gave him a quizzical look.

“It’s just that it’s weird to see her in this environment I suppose,” Obi-Wan answered to his expression.

“You see her outside of class all the time,” Anakin was becoming both increasingly concerned and intrigued by his mentor’s behavior.

“True, but this is different. She’s not a student out here, she’s just…”

“a person?” Anakin raised an eyebrow.

“well…”

“Glad you figured that one out,” Anakin clapped a hand on his shoulder. Obi-Wan glared at Anakin. knowing him for years through Qui-Gonn had made becoming his TA more like becoming a brother. The two of them looked back at you, now focused on serving drinks to a new couple that had just sat down at the bar. Anakin looked back and forth between you and Obi-Wan.

“You like her, don’t you?” Anakin looked at Obi-Wan with a suspicious eye.

“Don’t be ridiculous Anakin,” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“You do!” he exclaimed. Anakin knew Obi-Wan well enough to where he could spot the cracks in his serious facade. He had known that Obi-Wan was romantically capable, but that was only by accident. They were having a conversation one day and somehow he made a comment that alluded to the fact that he had once been in a relationship a very long time ago, and that it had deeply affected him. Anakin was able to get her name but not much else out of him, as Obi-Wan insisted it was in the past. He had been hoping for some time now that his mentor would find someone again, and he’d be damned before he wasn’t his wingman.

“Oh admit it. You have a thing for her!”

“This conversation ends now,” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“I know that Satine—“

“Ends. Now.” Obi-Wan glared severely.

Anakin raised his hands in surrender and started towards the bar again. They took the seats that opened up now that the annoyed lady had gotten up, presumably because she had had her fill of those next to her.

“Hi! I have to say it’s a bit weird to see both of you here. I guess I forget sometimes that teachers are still people and do…people things,” you had worded your thoughts rather awkwardly but chose to laugh at the fact rather than get hung up on it.

Obi-Wan relaxed at your statement. So you felt like it was a bit odd too, you just weren’t nearly as dramatic about it. Anakin subtly elbowed him, and he inwardly chastised himself while at the same time appreciating your own brand of confidence, laughing off an introduction that you could have otherwise been embarrassed about.

“Yeah we feel the same about you and the other students too,” Anakin chuckled.

“I’ve got to say it was a bit of a shock,” Obi-Wan chimed in, your eyes flicking to him immediately.

“I hope that's not a bad thing,” you smirked.

“No no, more like a pleasant surprise,” he was quick to reassure you, his nerves now smoothed considerably.

“I’m more than happy to pleasantly surprise, which is why” you turned behind you and then spun back around facing them, this time with two drinks in your hand, “I made these for you guys,”

“oh?” your professor lifted his brow.

“I uh, it’s just fun when a customer lets me surprise them with a drink based on their preferences. I took the liberty of guessing those too,”

you’re adorable— no sweet— nice?

Obi-Wan searched for an adjective that he felt less alarmed when using to describe someone in his professional world.

You pushed Obi-Wan’s drink towards him with a wink, saying, “don’t worry it’s on me.” You didn’t have to do the same with Anakin as he plucked his drink straight from your hand when you had offered. It was a dark drink in a martini glass, a blackberry with a toothpick running through it at the bottom of the glass. He stirred the stick a bit before he lifted the glass and took a sip.

“What is this? I like it a lot. What made you pick this one out for me?”

“It’s a black martini, pretty straightforward name, but it’s got gin, lime, pineapple juice, and charcoal but you can't taste it. It’s a little…moody,” you dropped your voice and leaned in for a feigned whisper “but it’s secretly fruity,” Anakin’s eyes went wide.

“No,” you laughed “Not in that way, but it doesn’t taste as dark as it looks,”

Anakin chuckled, “I’ll take it.”

You had turned to Obi-Wan now. “Sorry Anakin, but I’m more concerned about the Professors reaction,”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Obi-Wan leaned in with curiosity

“Well, one of you has to be the harsher critic,”

“Hey, I do grade you pretty well,”

“Did I not mention that last essay a while ago?”

“Ah, you have indeed, little one,” he conceded as he lifted his glass to his lips, a yellow drink with a lemon peel curled around the rim. His eyes widened in happy surprise. “mmm, it’s delicious” his tongue darted out to savor the taste.

“but…” he started, your forming smile put on pause, “The final score is pending until you tell me what it means”

“Well it’s called,” blushed and looked down a little in embarrassment. you didn’t think this through. “it’s called between the sheets” Anakin huffed air out of his nose in amusement as Obi-Wan choked on his second sip, which was unfortunately much larger than the last, “Well it’s a classic,” you quickly continued, “with a story behind it, something I feel like you’d appreciate in a drink, but most Importantly it’s got a little sass,” You all laughed.

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair

“She’s not wrong,” Anakin said.

“Yeah, Professor. You’ve got more spice than you think” well thank the maker you didn’t see him as old and boring.

Anakin had his mouth open to make another comment when he suddenly stopped and broke into a smile. You and Obi-Wan waited for him to explain but when he didn’t, you both leaned next to him to follow his line of sight, landing on Ms. Amidala walking in.

“Really now, is this a school meeting I didn’t know about?” Obi-Wan cried. He didn’t have anything against Ms. Amidala, but if things kept going in this direction, he was not going to be able to enjoy his drink…or you… if Professor Windu and the rest of the staff somehow got the same idea to show up.

“Actually, I invited her,” Anakin said in a rather confident tone, no doubt prepping for when she walked over.

“What?” Obi-Wan said sharply.

“Well we were just talking today and she said she’d like to talk again some other time so I convinced her to come here tonight,”

“Now who has a thing??”

It was your turn to say, “What?” Obi-Wan made a small incoherent stuttering sort of noise.

“Just be mindful Anakin—“

“Hello!” Ms. Amidala greeted all of you as she pulled up a chair. You’d seen your school counselor many times in the halls and she was always immaculately dressed, but you’d never realized how beautiful she was until now.

“I don't think I've met you before” she turned towards you with such a pure and genuine smile that you couldn’t help but return it. She really was something, Anakin.

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you Ms. Amidala. I usually see you walking around the campus. I'm a student at the university actually,”

“We’re not on campus right now, so please, call me Padmé,”

“Padmé then,”

“Padmé,” Anakin said next to her, a tinge of awe in his voice.

“Ani” she greeted him, “Thanks for asking me to come,”

“Of course,” Anakin said. Maker, could he drool any more?

Obi-Wan started to cough abruptly, and somehow that cough came out sounding an awful lot like the word “mindfulness”.

“Are you ok Obi-Wan?” Padme looked at him with concern.

“Oh, quite,” he dabbed the corners of his lips with one of the coaster napkins. Your eyes met as you smiled in amusement over his attempt at warning Anakin, which went completely over his head of course. Anakin was going to make a fool of himself regardless, but you, being the kind soul that you were, figured you could at least try to make it so he could blame the alcohol for anything too stupid.

This led to your sudden suggestion of shots, whipping out a handle of tequila in one hand, vodka in the other.

“It’s not a school night.” you said.

“On yes let’s!” Padmé said excitedly. She looked the picture of elegance with her swept-up hair and delicate blouse, and yet she was the one eagerly motioning for a little glass.

“Yeah!” Anakin agreed.

“Shit,” Obi-Wan whispered under his breath.

little one what have you done.

Anakin just laughed at Obi-Wan’s disdain.

“This is where the fun begins.”

—

Obi-Wan was stubborn, but as soon as you said the word, he was downing the alcohol, impressively smoothly one might add.

“Yeah! Let’s go gramps,” Anakin patted Obi-Wan on the back.

You never seen Obi-Wan as old, and the thought of it felt a little off to you.

“Just because Professor Kenobi’s the only one of you who can manage to grow a beard doesn’t mean he’s old,” you quipped.

“You make a fair point,” Padmé said and Anakin frowned.

“Thank you y/n,”

“Of course, Professor,”

You didn’t realize how much time had passed as you alternated between serving other customers and conversing with… friends? They were supposed to be your superiors but in this environment, you suddenly felt so close to them. Admittedly, it did help that Anakin was a little bit of a child at times, making you feel like you were on equal terms with him especially, you two being the youngest of the four.

It was now midnight and Padmé had sobered up from her buzz. She had only taken one shot and you realized she encouraged the shots mostly just for the boys and sat back to enjoy her own innocent amusement. She was funny.

At the same time, Anakin was revealing that he was very much a passionate drunk. He was telling stories of how he wanted to be a pilot at one point, and Padmé was thoroughly entertained. It was sweet how he made her laugh and she never had to doubt that she had his full attention.

You’d never seen Obi-Wan like this before, his eyes were a little droopy but his smile was huge. He had made himself comfortable by laying his arm on the bar, slightly propping himself up with his hand as he leaned lowly over the countertop. He was witty as ever, but as Anakin and Padmé shifted into their own little world, you noticed your Professor had been watching you walk back and forth behind the bar, wiping down the counter and getting ready to close down the bar.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him.

“Quite lovely,”

“I’d hope so, Professor. Tequila will do that to you.”

“Obi-Wan, please. Ms. Amidala had a point, and we’re both adults out here are we not?”

“Alright then, Obi-Wan,”

“I like how it sounds better when you say it,”

Was he…flirting? outright?

As much as you enjoyed it, he was drunk and you didn’t want to say anything foolish that he would remember you saying when he sobered up, but you’d be lying if you weren’t gonna take the compliment.

“Thank you. Although I think you should get some sleep now,”

“No,” he sat up and looked very adamant with a slight frown. He looked like a little boy who had been denied candy.

“Alright alright,” you turned to Padmé to whisper “I think he’s ready to go home now,”

“We are of one mind then,” she smiled. “I’m going to take Anakin home as well, I don't trust him to do it alone. it was wonderful to meet you,”

“I never expected to have this much fun—

“with teachers?”

“well, yeah I guess,”

She smiled then told both of them to stand up and they followed her out the door, but Obi-Wan only made it halfway there before he turned around, jogging back to you.

“I’d just like to say, I’m very glad I gave you a shitty grade,”

“what?” you said in surprise at his confession. You liked drunk Obi-Wan.

“No, it’s just that, if I hadn't, I wouldn't get to see you after my classes, and I wouldn't have realized how wonderful you are,” his voice was sincere and smooth. He had meant it.

“You’re right, I am wonderful,” you shrugged jokingly.

“Oh thank the maker you’re aware,” he said relieved and in all seriousness.

“I was joking, but I just want to say that I would've taken that grade any day if it meant spending time with you”

“I’ll see you next week darling,” he said as he kissed your hand. His eyes were low and your heart rate was high. You felt a dizziness that was becoming all too common around him.

He turned away too soon for your liking, and you watched him leave with Padmé and Anakin. You hadn’t even had a single drink and yet you felt so warm. After you closed up, you were definitely going to have one if you were going to digest what had just happened.

PART 4

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

De(railed) +18

Summary: The canon episode "Derailed" reimagined where Reader is sent on the solo interview and Spencer, recklessly, decides to save her. Plus, the aftermath.

CW: mommy kink sub! Spencer x dom! female (she/her) reader, cum play, penetrative sex, light degradation, praise kink, light choking (mentioned), edging, calling him a slut (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 6 K (this is the longest thing I've ever written!)

Author's Note: Special thank you to @shemarmooresfedora for reading this for me because I was very nervous about the smut portion. And a very special thank you to @notanotherreidgirl for inspiring this idea! this was my ask so yeah, this is a little out there for me so be kind (*dips into the shadows*). Also I either really hate or really love this title :)

Taglist: You can join the taglist here!

De(railed)

Sitting on the train, headed towards Virginia for the custodial interview, you tried to remind yourself what Spencer said to you the previous night when you dropped him off at his apartment. You had his hands in yours and you could feel him shake with nerves when he spoke.

He told you that he believes in you. Even when you think that Hotch and Gideon are sending you out to the solo interview too early, Spencer believes in you. If only you’d believe a little bit in yourself, then maybe you’d be able to figure out a way off this train, but an armed man and innocent passengers proves that a little challenging.

The man passes the train up and down and you tell yourself to relax. In hindsight, it seems like a horrible series of events that lead to the man shooting the train attendant. You’ve done your best to keep him calm until the police can see him off the train. Looking outside, you see SWAT, local PD, and FBI lined up 50 yards from the train.

Continuing to wave his gun around the train, the unsub rants about wanting to talk to a higher authority. To yourself, to wish that Spencer was here with you. He’d have figured out exactly what was wrong with the man by now. For less than professional reasons, you’re forever grateful that he’s not here- that he’s safe on the other side of the train.

“He’s out of his mind,” the man holding a bottle of whiskey says, “You gotta do something, lady,” he says, taking a swig of his drink. Your eyes dart to him and back up the doctor, the unsub’s psychologist, looking for a way out.

You breathe deeply, hoping that the BAU would come up with a plan. Knowing FBI protocol, you expect them to try to initiate a line of communication. Glancing over at the unsub, you think that he’ll want to talk to someone who looks like they are powerful. That would be either Hotch or Gideon. Selfishly, you’re grateful that Spencer still looks like an underpaid TA with a toy gun attached at his hip.

“No! Please, don’t hurt me!” the young woman screams, trying to release herself from the man, Ted’s, grip. He releases her, throwing her to the ground when his phone rings.

Gideon.

On the phone with Gideon, the man demands for something to be removed. You can’t hear what he’s saying to the unsub, but you place the little faith you have left into hoping your team can save you.

***

His vest is much too big for him.

That’s all you can think of when you realize Spencer is the “technician” that they’re sending in. His tie and shirt stick awkwardly and there is a gap in his shoulders around the vest. The straps are pulled so tight that they nearly fold over. His hands aren’t shaking when he carries the small black box, but his eyes look terrified.

You want to reach out to him, maybe hold his hand or brush the strands of hair that have fallen into his face, but you can’t. You have to sit there and pretend that this is the first time you’ve met him. It’s excruciatingly sick and mildly amusing in an equally twisted way. The first time you’ve come to terms with loving Spencer, you both can very well die.

“I’m here for the chip,” Spencer says, holding his hands up, “the higher authorities sent me,” he claims, feeding into the unsubs delusion. You shield your glance, unable to trust yourself from launching yourself in between Spencer and the man with the gun.

“That’s far enough and drop your weapons,” Ted says, holding the crying woman by her neck, “and take that vest off. I want to see you,”

“I don’t have any weapons. They don’t authorize them for-”

“I said take it off!” the man shouts, throwing the woman to the ground.

Spencer complies, taking off the much too big vest and tossing it to the ground. He holds his hands up, playing the part of the unsuspecting underling well. He reaches out to Ted, showing him the tools that he’ll use to take out the “chip”. You wonder how Spencer will pull it off, but you know he will in the end.

Spencer digs into the man’s skin with the scalpel. You can’t catch the sleight of hand, but you know that’s what he used.

“I have to leave, the higher authorities need the chip-”

“Turn it on,” Ted orders, “Turn it on!” he screams, his voice booming in the small train.

Spencer’s eyes dart to yours thinking of ways that he can get out of here. He looks almost sorry, and you feel a wave of intense regret. The thousands of times you could have said those little words seem so simple now.

“I can’t turn it on,” Spencer says, “I can’t turn it on,” You hate how scared he sounds, and you hate even more how you have to pretend that you don’t know him.

“Why!” the unsub yells, thrashing the gun around, “You’re one of them!”

Thinking quickly when you see him point the gun at Spencer’s face, you jump to your feet. You push Spencer out of the way, terrified that he’ll do something rash. You can’t lose Spencer, not when you’ve hadn’t had the chance to have him yet.

“It needs to be implanted to be activated,” you say, “I know this stuff Ted, I’m a Fed. Only me. Everyone else,Ted is just innocent. Just let them go, Ted,” you plead, “Just let them go,”

“No!” he yells, shooting up into the ceiling of the train, “no!”

The windows are closed, but you suspect that Hotch and Gideon have the train surrounded by now. Spencer moves closer to you, staring at the man as he scratches his upper arm. He drops his hand towards yours and squeezes, like he’s saying sorry and saying goodbye all in one touch. You don’t realize this before it’s too late.

“Doctor Brier,” Spencer says, standing up with his hands near his head, “you’re right, there’s more-”

“Just make it stop!” the desperate man pleas, “Make it stop!”

“I know what it’s like, Ted. The voices, they’ve been talking to you since you were a kid. They don’t stop. I know what it’s like Ted,” Spencer says, inching closer and closer to him, “Leo? Why don’t you let him think for himself?” Spencer says, trying to use the man’s delusion against him.

“Don’t! Stop, you’re trying to trick me!” the man begs, whipping the gun around too close to Spencer’s face, “stop!”

You always listen to Spencer. Whatever he talks about, you listen. From Russian cinema to Star Trek to the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture, you listen to him. It’s not that hard and it’s easy to get lost in his eyes or the way his hands move when he talks. But the seconds leading up to when the gunshot goes off, you’re not listening.

Because without Spencer, there isn’t much worth listening to.

***

Your eyes are squeezed shut so when a large hand hovers over your shoulder you jump at the touch. It takes you all of ten seconds to realize it’s Spencer. You look him over, searching for signs of mortal wounds that will rip him from your clutches, but there isn’t any.

“You’re okay,” you say, wanting nothing more but to kiss him or yell at him, or maybe a mix of the two, “you’re okay,” you repeat, not fully believing it the first time.

“We’re okay,” Spencer says, hugging you tight as you collapse into his arms, not caring if the rest of the team watches.

“I haven’t been fair to you, Spence,” you say, breaking from the hug to caress his face. You stop, holding his face in your hands, soaking him in, “you’re not someone who gets strung along, baby. I fucking love you and you-you mean so much to me. And I hate-I hate that it took you almost dying for me to realize that,” you cry, unable to care anymore.

“You love me?” Spencer whispers, unable, himself to care that they have an audience, “You love me back, but I’m, I-I,”

“Spencer,” you tell him, pausing to kiss him fully, “I,” you plant another kiss, on his right cheek, “love,” left cheek, “you,” forehead.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, looking at you with a proud smirk, “I guess that’s good because, I love you, Y/N. I don’t go risk my life just for everyone,”

“Watch yourself, baby,” you remind him, channeling the surge of pure life that runs through your veins, “you’re in for it later, my darling,” you tell him, whispering into his ear so only he can hear.

***

You didn’t even give him time to breathe before you pushed him up against the wall. Spencer’s hands still held yours, you don’t think that he dropped them since you two safely exited the train. He whimpers through the kiss, his breathy moan only serving to spur you on. His hands broke from yours, clinging to your waist. Spencer tries to peel your clothes from your skin, but he's much too distracted by your lips that travel across his cheekbones and down to his neck. He’s breathless and panting, but you don’t let up. If he’s breathing, he’s alive and that’s all that matters now.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” Spencer pleads, the desperation in his voice causing you to pause from your attack on his neck, “I-I, Y/N,” he stutters, feeling empty without your kisses.

“I’m not mad, sweet boy. I’m not mad at you,” you say, laying on a sweet voice as your fingers skim through Spencer’s hair. He’s shaking slightly and closes his eyes, looking like he’s grateful to be alive.

“You’re not, but I wasn’t good,” he whispers, “I wasn’t good for you, Mommy,”

You do everything in your power to keep your composure, but after a day like today, you’re ready to melt into him. He might be the one begging at your feet soon, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s you who's wrapped around his finger. He looks up at you, with his back leaning against the wall; his face flushed pink and marks littering his neck.

“You scared me, Spence. I thought- I just let me take care of you,” you request, dropping your hands from his hair and grabbing onto his hand as you lead him to your bedroom. You’ve made it a habit to go to your place after cases; Spencer claims that the sunlight that dips into your bedroom in the morning is more pleasant than his view of the street, but you know he just prefers your bed and the attention he gets at your place.

“Please, Y/N,” he begs, following you into the bedroom. He’s at your heels and burrowed deeply in your heart, exactly where you want him.

You drop his hands, guiding him so his knees hit the edge of your plush bed. He kicks off his shoes and starts to undo his tie and shirt, but you stop him before he gets the chance.

“Let me do that for you, baby. I’m taking care of you tonight,” you say, feeling your heart swell as he looks up at you adoringly, “Mommy’s got you, my brave boy,” you tell him, your fingers grazing over his cheekbones, his nose and eyes. His eyes close as you continue to draw shapeless shapes over his skin.

“Thank you,” he mutters, saying it like a pray as he relaxes for the first time today, “thank you, Mommy,”

You smile at the name, enjoying how pliant he is as you unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie. His flushed cheeks lead down his equally flushed chest. You place both your legs over his body, hovering over him as you straddle him. The proximity eggs him on and the minimal friction near his pants causes him to buck up words. Mercilessly, you chuckle at his attempt to get off. You want nothing more than to put him out of his misery, but watching him squirm for the tiniest bit of affection— your affection makes you nearly as desperate as Spencer.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you tell him, harshly pulling off his shirt as you nibble on his ear. He whimpers out in desire, already unable to form coherent thoughts even though you’ve so much as kissed him.

You stop touching him, sinking down to your knees before him. Spencer looks down at you, his pupils blown and his hair messy from being pushed up against the wall. His breathing is erratic and unmeasured, but he’s heart is still beating. You smile, unafraid and not caring that it breaks character as you give his thigh a squeeze. You bring his hands to his buttons, motioning for him to unbutton his pants for you.

“I can’t do all the work now, can I, baby?” You question rhetorically, quite self satisfied that he nods eagerly. He quickly undoes his pants, kicking the heavy corduroy trousers near your bathroom door. If the moment wasn’t so tense and erratic, you probably would have teased him for his excitement.

“I want to touch you, please? Mommy” Spencer starts, his hands holding your face as you kneel. He holds your face so delicately and gently, it’s a contrast to the sinful way he’s squirming above you.

“Not yet,” you tsk, slipping your finger under the waistband of his boxers. The bulge in his underwear looks very uncomfortable, but Spencer clearly tries his best to behave under your strong stare. You peel back the underwear and let it drop to Spencer’s feet. His cock, now exposed, is painfully hard. He concentrates on his breathing and trying to remain composed as your fingers travel up his leg and towards his groin.

“There’s my pretty boy,” you coo, grabbing Spencer’s jaw and making him look down at you. He lets pitiful whine at your words, “Come on, make my fingers nice and wet,” you order, sticking out two fingers that he sucks enthusiastically.

“What a good little slut I have, you’re sucking Mommy’s fingers just as if it’s my strap, aren’t you sweet boy,” you say, gently resting your other palm loosely around his neck. You don’t apply any pressure, but let it serve as a reminder of what could happen.

Happily, Spencer sucks your fingers, moaning around them and bucking his hips up in frustration. Marred by impatience, you remove your fingers from his mouth and kneel back down on the floor. Loosely, you grip his cock with your wet fingers. Spencer whines at the friction that’s nothing close to enough.

“Tell me how that feels,” you demand, “Tell Mommy how I makes you feel,”

“I-I feel,” Spencer starts, concentrating intently, but unable to truly articulate the passion you ignite in him, “Mommy, you make me feel so good,” Spencer says, finally finding the words, even though they barely scratch the surface.

“That’s all I want, baby. You deserve to feel good. So let me take care of you, my love,” you tell him, watching as he simpers at your words.

For a second there you let yourself think that maybe it’s calling him my love that prompted his reaction, not the promise of his cock in your mouth. You know after tonight there’s no tip toeing around it anymore: you’re unequivocally in love with him and you’re a little disappointed that it took the pair of you nearly dying to figure it out finally.

Looking back up at him, you abandon your plans for a moment. You kiss him hard. Normally, you’d hate the way your teeth clash against someone else’s and how the kiss isn’t really a kiss. It’s hard to pace yourself when he’s whimpering below you as you grind down hard on his crotch. The fabric of your pants provides much needed friction, causing Spencer to cry out in a twisted mix of pleasure and pain. He paws at your work short, silently begging for you to shed your layers as well.

“Good boys wait,” you tell him, kissing his forehead and sinking back down for the last time. You’ll never be done teasing him, but for now you intend to put his needs first.

“Such a pretty cock that only I get to see,” you coo, running a finger up his length, relishing in how he shudders at your touch. You’ve touched him so many times, yet he reacts each time as if it’s the first. He’s leaking precum as his breathing becomes more and more strained. This is far from your first time with Spencer and you’re well aware of the signs of his release.

Smiling up at him, you lazily wrap your hand around him, giving him the smallest bit of friction and attention that he needs to come. You drop him once he’s close to the edge, his pleading, begging eyes turning glazed over when he realizes you’re taking off your shirt. By the way he’s looking at you, you’d think you’d be wearing your best lingerie. Quickly, you’ve learned that with Spencer you could be wearing your ratty college tee shirts and he’d still look at you like you were dripping in gold.

“Mommy,” he pleads, “I’m a good boy,” he says, no trying to convince himself to hold back from his release, “please Mommy. I’m gonna-“ Spencer says, the flush on his face deepening as he throws his head back in ecstasy. However, he summons enough energy and will to reach out and palm your boobs. You don’t hide your moans as he rolls a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger. It only encourages him, but nowhere can you find in yourself to care.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Spencer whimpers, unable to hold himself up anymore and collapsing on the bed. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to collect himself. He comes all over your chest, staining your lavender bralette and looking very proud of himself. Spencer learned quickly as well that coming before you’ve even touched him earns him quite the praise.

“Such a good boy,” you praise, choosing to ignore him coming without permission, “such a messy boy though,” you chastise, squeezing his thigh and crawling your fingers up his chest.

“Mommy, please, I want to make you feel good too. I love you,” Spencer begs, his eyes droopy with exhaustion from the long day and glazed over with his orgasm. His words slur together as if he's drunk off something potent. His eyes meet yours, but flit down quickly. He scans your soiled chest, licking his lips unconsciously as his eyes rank over your breasts covered in the lavender lacy and stained with his cum.

“Do you know what good boys do?” You ask, expecting Spencer to answer the question without hesitation.

“They clean up their mess, Mommy,” he says. In a moment of bravery, he grabs your hand, guiding you to lay down on the bed. He twists his hands around your back, unlatching your bra from your body and tosses it on the ground.

Above you, Spencer lowers his face so his chin barely grazes your chest. His tongue darts out onto your skin, licking up the messy cum that fell on your chest. You place your hands in his hair, gripping firmly. It’s not hard enough to cause any pain, but it’s tight enough to remind him to stay put. Spencer hums contently, lapping up your chest, but keeping his eyes trained on yours. You pull him up by his hair, pieces fall over his blissed out eyes. He smiles up at you, his chin glistening with cum, but looking pleased with himself.

“That’s a good boy,” you praise, pulling him up to kiss him deeply. His tongue swirls around in yours and his large hands cup your face. You can feel him moving in your lap, more and more desperate for attention and friction as you continue to hold him off, “I love you, baby,” you say, hoping that he’ll hear enough times for it to stick and for him to start living his life like he wants to stay alive.

“Just for you, Mommy,” Spencer mumbles, already sucking and marking the valley between your breasts, “Can you? Please?” Spencer asks, still embarrassed, after all these months to put to words his desires.

“What, baby? You need to use your words,” you tell him, scooting up in the bed and smirking to yourself as Spencer practically chases you up the headboard, “You need to tell him what you want me to do, baby,” you say, talking slowly as you rub circles into his skin. He’s still hot to the touch and flushed all over.

“I want to make you feel good,” Spencer begs, licking his fiery red lips that are swollen and bitten from your earlier treatment, “I want you to feel good,” he says, attempting to buck his hips against your legs.

“Are you sure about that, Spence?” you ask, teasing him with your wandering hands. One stays latching in his hair, exposing his criminally bare neck and the other sneaks down to his cock, but hardly satisfies his burning need, “Because it seems like you’re an insolent little slut who only cares if he gets off. Do I need to remind you that I have needs as well,” you chide, increasing your grip on his hair as your lips nip the sensitive skin of his neck. He shudders in response, unable to fully articulate a sentence.

“But you’re lucky, you’re beautiful, Dr. Reid,” you say, dropping his hair and letting his head fall onto your chest. Knowing your expectations, Spencer doesn’t hesitate to kiss and nip along your skin. You feel your panties dampen at the sight of him: his hair wild and messy, his neck marked with evidence of your mouth, and his chest is bright red, somehow still flustered and embarrassed by your affections. You find it bizarre that he still doesn’t fully believe just how head over heels you are for him. He’s too good and pure for this world, and you’ll happily spend the rest of your life reminding him just how deserving of goodness and pureness he is.

“I love you,” Spencer whimpers against your skin, his breath is hot as he pants, “but please fuck me,” he begs, flipping around on his back so you can be on top.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy, Mommy will take care of you,” you remind him, balancing yourself so you can hover over him, “Now, I’d normally want you to be quiet, but I want to hear everything. So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me how you feel, sweetie,” you instruct, maneuvering yourself so you’re lined up with him.

“Give me a second, please,” Spencer asks, pushing himself up so his back rests against the headboard, “You make me crazy, I just need a moment to think,” he says, quietly, staring off nothing in the bedroom. You take the opportunity to grab his hand, that’s gripping onto your floral patterned sheets, and kiss his scars on his knuckles. Some are new and fresh, while others are old, from longer ago than working at the BAU. You kiss them over, as if your lips are able to help the evidence of his physical pain.

“You make me crazy too, Spencer,” You say, growing more and more unhinged as he moves underneath you, “I love you so much, darling,” you tell him, kissing his eyes, lips, nose, anything you can reach.

Slowly, so slowly, you sink down onto Spencer. You watch his microexpressions, but you know how he’ll react. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s willing himself to hold off. He breathes in and out, teetering on the edge. You wait for his nod, for his sign of approval that you can move. He whines and peeks open his eyes. Spencer’s hands dig into your waist, his strong, large hands searching for any skin to grab onto.

“Please move, Mommy,” Spencer begs, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he starts to plead with you to have mercy on him, “I need it, Mommy,” he moans.

“Don’t be greedy, darling. You’ll take what I give you, but don’t you want to make me feel good too, baby,” you ask, guiding his nimble fingers to your slick core. His thumb and pointer finger begin to rub quick circles around your clit. You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you feel the pressure build. Between the heightened tensions of work and Spencer's hot breath against your neck, you know that you’ll come soon. Spencer’s breathy moans get more and more desperate.

“Are you already going to come again, love?” You ask, increasing your pace. His other hand grips your thigh, drawing shapes into your soft skin. Following suit, you match his sweet movements on his cheek. His breath is his shaky as you stroke his cheek lovingly, “Make me come first and then, maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me,” you promise, already knowing that you’ll let him come inside you.

“Watch you disappear inside me, baby. Watch your pretty cock slip inside my pussy. It’s just like you were made for me, darling,” you cry, your voice getting slightly breathy yourself. You watch yourself as his cock goes in and out, red with overstimulation. Spencer’s eyes, littered with small tears, looks transfixed.

“Fuck,” Spencer says, “I’m so close, Mommy. I-I, you make me feel so good. You’re so beautiful, I-I-”

“So needy, you’re so fucking needy,” you say to him. You can tell he’s growing more and more impatient by the moment. His hands lurch towards your chest, pawing at your boobs. Spencer’s sloppy movements bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“So good, so good,” he repeats, his sweaty forehead rests on your collarbone. You pull him up again his hair, relishing in the pitiful moan that he lets out. It’s raw and pure sin, it should make you want to fuck him more, but it only makes you want to love him more.

You’re drunk on him. Drunk on his moans and whimpers of pleasure. You’re drunk on the way his skin sticks to yours and how his hands roam around your body, always finding a spot on your torso and legs that makes you approach the edge closer and closer. You wonder, for a second, if you’re being too hard on him. If you should just whisper that little sentence and let Spencer feel the wave of pleasure.

“I need it, Mommy,” Spencer pants, kissing lined up your chest and collarbone. His face is pressed up against your face and moves up and down as you continue your pace, “I-I, Mommy, I want you to-”

“What do you want, baby? Hmm? Tell Mommy?” You ask, your voice sounding sickly sweet. The noise of moans fills the room, Spencer’s moan akin to whimpers and whines and your’s more like praises and words of approval, “you’ve been such a good boy, baby I’ll give you want whatever you want, my love”

“Please, please let me make you come, Mommy. I need you to come, Mommy. I need it,” Spencer whines, looking up into your eyes and latching onto them in the darkness.

It’s sinful how the filthy words contrast with his sweet, shy tones. He looks so innocent, but enthralling with his face between your hands, but his own hands rubbing small circles on your clit. His moans grow more high pitched. You kiss by his ear, ready to whisper the words of approval that you’ve neared your release.

“Oh god, Spencer. God. You have no idea what you do to me. My sweet boy,” you murmur, pressing Spencer’s face further into your chest. You can feel him heave and his breathing grow more and more unsteady, but he still has enough sense to continue rubbing your clit.

You kiss him, wanting to feel him everywhere when you come undone. Kissing him is desperate and full of gasps of air. His skin is so soft as you slide across his mouth, up his cheeks, and over his jaw. His helpless moans spur you on, giving you the strength and energy to thrust down on him another time before you feel yourself come undone.

“It’s your turn, baby. Come on, sweetheart. Come inside me and maybe I’ll have to call you daddy? Hmm?” you chant, halting your movements to torture him a little longer.

“Please, Y/N. Please let me fill you up,” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse and scratchy from being so vocal, “I’m yours. I love you so much,” he calls out, wrapping his arms around you so your chests are pressed up together. He holds you sweetly and you kiss his shoulders and his neck, choosing to leave a large red welt as a reminder for him.

“You like that? Hmm you like if I call you Daddy and let you fill me up? Come on, Spencer. You can come. Don’t you want to be a good boy for Mommy?,” you say, giving him the permission that he’s been desiring all night.

He tightens his grip on your upper half as he meets his release. Spencer’s strangled moans turn into sweet whimpers as he looks down into your laps. Quietly, you ride him through the rest of his orgasm, letting him come down from his high peppered with light pecks along his freckled shoulders and sharp jawline. Spencer smiles into the kisses, his eyes are shut and his cheeks are dusted with a light pink flush. For the first time today, he looks relaxed and safe.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Spencer says quietly, mirroring your motions and kissing your shoulders and neck as you slow your pace, “Can we stay like this. Just for a moment,” Spencer asks, burning for the feeling of being inside you for even a couple more minutes.

“Of course, baby,” you tell him, squeezing him into a tight hug, “you did so wonderful for me. Such a good boy. I love my sweet boy,” you tell him, brushing the stray hairs from his face. His neck is marked by your mouth and his eyes are glazed with sleep and desire.

“I love you,” Spencer says again, his forehead falling against yours and his breath hitching as you move slightly with him inside you, “and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about today,”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart and then we’ll talk about it,” you suggest, taking the opportunity to kiss his lips as you pull yourself away from his lap.

Spencer doesn’t say much in response, but nods silently. He groans slightly as you separate your bodies and he tries to chase your lips with his as you climb out of the bed and into your bathroom.

“Please come back,” Spencer says, sounding like he wasn’t sure if you’d keep your promise.

“I’m right here, Spence,” you reassure him, returning from the bathroom dressed in an old tee shirt and carrying a warm, damp washcloth and a pair of clean underwear for Spencer.

“Can you please hold me? Please, Y/N. I need you,” Spencer says, reaching out to you in the dark. That’s one request you know you’d never deny.

“Of course, Spence. Just let me clean you up and I’ll hold you,” you tell him, gently dragging the warm towel over his skin. He’s quiet as you clean him up, but his soulful eyes look lost and sheepish, making him look smaller and more vulnerable than he actually is. You drop the towel to the floor, not caring that the water isn’t good for the floor.

You lay back down on the bed and Spencer, like a magnet to another magnet, crawls in close. He’s still undressed, except for the underwear that you gave him. His eyes are droopy and his breathing is still shaky, but steadies out as your hands draw circles on his back. You pull the covers up to his chin, making sure he’s covered before you start what you know all too well is a difficult conversation.

“Spencer,” you croak, “Why did you do that? Why do you think that’s okay?” you ask, still trying to make sense of why Spencer would risk his life like that so recklessly. You hold him tighter, squeezing his arm as he breathes out, ready to tell you what he’s never told anyone before.

“Bec-, because- I don’t matter,” he says, the words choking out between cries of years and years of pain, “because it doesn’t matter to anyone if I don’t come home. I don’t have anyone to come home to,”

“You’ve always had me,” you say quietly, “I’m your person to come home with, Spence,” you tell him, hoping with all the faith in your body that he’ll believe you. You hold his hand, weaving your fingers in his. Looking at your hands intertwined together, you’d think that your hand was made for it. It’s a little cliche, but Spencer is the kind of man that makes all those cliches seem like wonderful possibilities.

“I-I, I never had someone before,” Spencer says, “I mean, I had my mom, but it’s gotten harder. But then, then, I met you. And I never thought you’d like me like that, Y/N. I never thought you could love me,”

“Spencer,” you say, twisting around so you can hold his face in your hands, “Spencer, I love you. You are so much more than your job. You’re worthy of being loved, Goose. And I’d spend the rest of my life making you realize this”

“You want to spend the rest of your life- the rest of your life with me?” Spencer asks, sounding like he can’t believe the words that you say.

“Spence, I’ve loved you since I’ve known you,” you say, dragging your hands through his curly hair that’s matted against his forehead, “You would have realized that if you weren’t too carried away with making me your future history,”

“I think I have a habit of doing that,” Spencer confesses, kissing your forehead sweetly, “You’re- I’m sorry that I worried you like that, but for so long, for so long this is all I’ve had. And before that it was school. I throw myself into academia or work because it’s all I had,”

“Had,” you repeat, “as in the past tense. You’ve had some much more than too, Spence. We all love you. Elle and Derek. JJ and Hotch. Penny and Gideon. We all love you, but I love you the most,”

“Good,” Spencer replies, turning his head down to kiss you, “because I love you the most,”

His lips glide across yours, moving slowly at first and faster as he grows more urgent. There’s no sense in rushing through. You could kiss him lazily in your bed all night and continue until it gives way to morning. There’s no time limit, no buzzer that’s going to go off and force Spencer to whole himself back up into his past. He smiles through the kiss, knowing well that there’s more to come tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. His lips were warm and soft, maybe still a little tender from before, but still eager to feel your lips against his. Breathing together, savoring that you both are breathing, you smile yourself, fully ready for whatever comes next.

***

Taglist (not my usual taglist because I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable bc this is smut. You can join the taglist here!)

@shemarmooresfedora @just-another-persona123 @folkreid @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @spencersrose @strawberryspence

[obeymedevil]

Hello! I have a request: The OM! Boys get sauce on their shirt while eating with MC?

(I can feel Lucifer fuming all the way from the Devildom lol)

Obey me x Gn!Reader

A/N: I absolutely LOVE the idea of this. This is amazing oh my goodness! I hope this was alright! I did a short one because I didn't wanna overplay it for you! I hope you like it :3

Messy Situations

A simple dinner treat turns into quite a catastrophe at the other brother's actions. (Short fic) 

"Now take your seats and I expect you all to give me the peaceful dinner which I've longed for for centuries." Lucifer spoke slowly, eyeing the brothers one by one and only briefly making eye contact with you. It was more of a pleading gaze though begging for your help to keep things quiet and simple. He wouldn't say it to you though or admit to it as afterall, he's too prideful for such a display. 

"Yeah it aint often that big bro treats us to a huge meal like this!" Mammon's voice soon chimed in with a spark against his eyes. As the brothers began to quietly chatter before the food was served, you eyed the table a little and quickly noticed that the Anti-Lucifer club were sitting alarmingly close together. You'd have to keep tabs on them for sure. Nothing could go wrong tonight if none of you wanted an angry Lucifer to deal with for the week. Besides, there were several issues the brothers (and maybe you) had caused and you all needed Lucifer on your side for them. Everybody began to settle down and share light glances with each other apart from Beel who was staring at the food that finally approached the table. 

"Thank you for the food, Lucifer!" You Smiled as he gave a little one in return before speaking. 

"Of course, Mc. I'm glad you're all happy with this arrangement." It wasn't even a few seconds of beginning to eat your food before you heard a quiet 'uh-oh' from Beel. Lucifer's eyes soon snapped up as he saw the sauce stain on Beels clothes causing you to instantly panic. Oh damn. 

"Beezlebub?" Lucifer's deeper voice could literally shake the room if he put in the usual effort he used for Mammon. "Please, keep the mess to a minimum." Belphies and Satan's eyes lit up at this and you instantly panicked as you recalled the earlier conversation they had over the D.D.D chats. They were conjuring up a plan but chose to speak in person about it, you were busy at the time though so you couldn't attend. They assured they could deal with it alone though so you hadn't been able to halt any plans. Before you could stand and interject whatever they were doing, Belphie soon stood and threw some food toward Mammon much to his dismay. 

"Hey! What was that for?!" He had shouted across the table, anger written across his face. You had sat back down at this point, sighing lightly. Whatever was gonna happen was gonna happen, you couldn't stop it now. Mammon soon threw some food back but it missed and hit Satan. This continued until everybody had some food on their clothes apart from Asmo who was currently hiding under the table and complaining about the mess, and Lucifer. That was about to change though as Mammon threw something else across the table landing straight against Lucifer's face. 

"MAMMMONNN!" He's really gone and done it now, huh? Mammons face instantly dropped as he stood back. 

"I-I didn't mean ta do that! Must've slipped…" His voice soon got drowned out by the laughter shared between Belphie and Satan whilst Beel was eating everything that remained intact. Levi soon gazed up from his gaming console, a confused tint to his eyes. 

"Huh? What's wr- oh. Lmao you've gone and done it now." Asmo had soon gently snuck you out of the room and slowly wiped away any food left on your face. Once you had both returned, Mammon was tied upside down above his previous sitting position and everything was cleaned up with a pretty happy looking Lucifer. 

"Now I don't expect such a display again, understand?" His voice seemed to seethe demonic energy as the red glow behind him seemed to give him a sort of comfort. "This is why I don't treat you all." Mammons eyes soon met yours as he spun a kittle due to his wiggling movements 

"Hey, hey! Mc! Lemme down! Ya wanna help me, don't ya? Beel. Beel! Come eat this damn rope!" 

[justafairytailofinnocence]

I had a funny idea for potc, and this can be either a one shot or hc. Anyway, my idea was for Davy Jones reacting to the reader after hearing her let a swear word slip through her lips for the first time. 😂

Hello dear💖, thanks for your request.

Davey Jones x reader🐙🏴‍☠️

Sailor's curse🏴‍☠️

The flying Dutchmen sailed over the deadly horizons of the seven seas, the ship and it’s captain were the most feared amongst men. The myth and legends surrounding the flying Dutchmen were indeed true, any soul caught wondering amongst the ship would be doomed for an eternity to serve it’s captain. The captain of the ship Davey Jones was indeed feared amongst men, most sailors refuse to speak his name and those who do would be thrown overboard in fear the ship would take them instead.

The waves sprouted highly on the deck of the ship as the crew scrubbed away at the floor boards. Y/n however had different intentions, she had courage and bravery that many would envy especially while sailing around on the dutchman. “Scrub harder yer’ seadogs” one of the crew members shouted, the barnacles on their skin started to grow more with each passing day. “Aye, what he said, scrub harder unless ya want the cap’n ta’ throw ya overboard” y/n smiled, many men feared the captain but her. Y/n knew what he was like deep down, he was ruthless but there were some things the captain would refuse to show. Y/n was a baby thrown at sea by her parents, since then Jones still had the heart to raise the infant like a daughter.

The rules were quite clear, anyone who harms y/n would end up meeting their fate with the kraken. Y/n was quite fearsome, no man has ever harmed nor even per say looked at her because of Jones. “Oi lass, ya’ could help us instead of barkin’ order’s at us” one of the crewmembers whined “you know the rules lad, quit whining or your bones will be the krakens dinner”.

The sea waters breezed over with the heavy wind as the crewmember muttered a curse. Y/n grabbed out her sword frustrated with the man’s demeanour, “what did you say, you damned b-“ y/n’s head turned; the whole crew stopped moving as someone tall stood behind her. The sounds of tentacles could be heard creeping behind her neck, Y/n stood frozen as she heard the captain speak. “And who taught ya the word lass, I didn’t know ye knew cursed words of the seven seas” Y/n’s head shot around so fast that even the waves couldn’t keep up. The man who just muttered the word crept to the back of the ship “I see ye be teachin’ y/n new words”.  Y/n sprouted to her feet “It was only a mistake Cap’n, I swears’ I don’ know what it means”. Y/n was trying to act innocent so she could hopefully get away Scott free, Poseidon knows she needs another scolding right now.

Davey looked into y/n’s soft eyes; he couldn’t stay mad at her after all the number of times he swore by mistake. “Ye be off the hook fer now, go on and start help swabbing the deck” Y/n was glad at least the most fearsome captain had a soft spot for her. As for the man, he cowered in fear as Jones turned to face him. “Please cap’n have mercy” the man cried out; Jones lurched forward to swing his sword in the man’s neck.

“If any of ye scurvies curse on my ship, ye be meetin’ the kraken” the captain certainly still had those fatherly instincts for y/n.

Davey to say the least cared for y/n like she was his own daughter, and he refuses for anyone to mess with his daughter.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta✨ Oneshot requests: open

[dreamerstreamer]

Speak Your Mind

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader

Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)

George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.

I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world. 

But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.

He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.

[y/n]: hi george!

[y/n]: how are you doing?

George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.

He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.

The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.

You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.

“Woah. You’re really pretty.”

He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”

He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”

“George!”

The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.

You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.

The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.

Hopefully.

With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.

GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha

[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3

His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.

Oh god, he was so screwed.

He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?

A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.

[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)

A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.

“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.

“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.

“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”

“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.

But I wish I knew you better.

“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”

He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”

“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”

George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”

He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?” 

He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”

“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?” 

He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”

You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”

His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.

“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”

He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.

Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”

You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”

He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”

It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”

A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”

A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”

He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be? 

“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly. 

A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.

You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?

“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start? 

There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”

He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”

His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.

“You what?”

He froze.

Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?

Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”

A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.

If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.

“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.

“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”

Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.

Why did he do that? How did he do that?

Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard. 

He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.

“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.

Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.

Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.

He was sure things could only go downhill from here.

“You what?!”

George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.

“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”

George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”

Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”

All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?” Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”

“Yeah, and?”

Another beat of silence.

“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”

George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”

“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”

“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.

“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”

George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”

Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”

George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”

“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”

“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.

George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”

“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”

He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”

A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”

George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”

Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”

“You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Nah. It’s funny.”

Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”

George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”

“Good luck, Gog—”

It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.

It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long. 

Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.

I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.

That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.

You suck, he thought.

The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.

His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?

The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.

[y/n] is typing...

His heart leapt into his throat.

[y/n]: okay!

He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.

“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.

“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.

“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”

Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”

He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”

Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.

“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”

George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.

“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”

You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”

He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”

Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”

He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear. 

I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—

“I like you, too.”

His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.

Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.

He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.

You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins. 

Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.

“I like you a lot lot, too.”

He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?

Your grin widened. “Yes.”

For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.

A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now? 

Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.

[falcqns]

i have another idea , what if reader has to go to the hospital because she get injured in set and little!chris saw her when they were taking her to the ambulance. He star having a panic attack but daddy!anthony helps him and u know he’s all sad because his mama it’s injured but when u wake up you let him explain how he’s feeling and he’s babbling and seeing how much he miss you even tho it’s was max 4 house since you last see him🥰✨

𝖒𝖆𝖒𝖆’𝖘 𝖔𝖐𝖆𝖞

☼ 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: daddy!Anthony Mackie x little!Chris Evans x mommy!Reader

☼ 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔤𝔰: md/ddlb relationship, polyamory, injury, hospitals, ambulance rides.

☼ 𝔞/𝔫: thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy.

as soon as Chris’s eyes locked onto the stretcher with you on it, being rolled from the soundstage, he was instantly little.

“dada?” he mumbled under his breath, scanning the set for Anthony. he located him talking to Joe Russo, and rushed over. Anthony saw the look on his boys face, and immediately excused himself from the conversation.

“Dada, where’s Mama goin’?” he asked, and Anthony wrapped him up in a big hug.

“Mama got hurt while filming,” he said, and he squeezed him tighter when he felt him start to freak out. he led him out the back door behind him, and held him. “she’s okay, they’re just taking her as a precaution.” he said, hoping that would calm him down, but it did the opposite and he began to freak out.

“nee’ to get ta Mama! Mama nee’s cuddles,” Chris said, pushing against Anthony’s hold. “Dada, wet me go!” he shouted, and finally broke free of his hold. he bolted after the ambulance that was pulling out.

“CHRIS!” Anthony shouted, trying to catch up to him. “damn those skinny little fuckin’ legs,” he said under his breath as he tried to catch up with Chris who was gaining speed. the ambulance drove away, and Chris fell down onto the pavement.

“shit,” Anthony said, and caught up with him. “come here,” he said, hauling a sobbing Chris up, and carried him to his trailer. thankfully, filming had resumed, so there was no one to see them.

“owwies,” Chris said as he was sat on the couch. he showed Anthony his hands that were scraped up. “owwies, Dada.” he said, tears falling down his face.

“i know bud. give Dada a second to get the first aid kit.” Anthony located it, and walked over to Chris.

“give Dada your hands.” he said, and Chris presented them.

he poured rubbing alcohol on the cuts, which made Chris cry from the pain. he wrapped his hands up, before washing them. Anthony picked up Chris’s blue and white paci, and offered it to him.

“no.” Chris refused. “don’ want it. wan’ Mama.” Anthony sighed and wiped away some of his tears.

“Mama is fine. we can go-“ he started to say, but was cut off by Chris pushing away from him and running to the other side of the trailer.

“NO!” Chris shouted. “DEY TOOK MAMA ‘WAY!”

Anthony walked over to him, and pulled him into a hug, letting him sob. “i know you’re scared for Mama. she’s going to be okay. she hit her head, they just need to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. that’s all. we can bring Mama home tomorrow morning.”

Chris’s blue eyes filled with tears, and his bottom lip jutted out. “no Mama f’r ni ni?” he asked, and Anthony’s heart broke as Chris sobbed even louder, his head dropping back.

“nee’ mama!” he cried, and Anthony hugged him tighter, although he knew it wouldn’t help. he just wanted his poor boy to stop crying. Chris stomped his feet, and Anthony sat the two of them down on the bed, pulling Chris onto his lap, where he buried his head in Anthony’s neck and continued to sob.

“i know you’re sad, but everything’s gonna be fine. i promise. what are you worried about?” he asked, and Chris sniffled.

“no get miwk a’fore bed.” he said quietly, and Anthony smiled. his little boy loved your milk.

“you can still have milk, honey. i think there’s still some pumped milk in the freezer from when Mama had to go away and film a few months ago, remember?” he suggested, but this only served as fuel for Chris’s tears.

“no! i hab last one yestewday! Mama no hab time to nuwse, so i hafta drink out of a baba.” he said, and Anthony sighed. there was no way he was going to go down easy tonight if he didn’t get his night time meal.

just as he opened his mouth to soothe Chris, his phone vibrated. he pulled it from his pocket, and saw the text from you.

‘everything’s fine, they’re just keeping me for observation. you two can come and visit. i’m sure bubbas not too happy.’ it read, and Anthony smiled.

“look, buddy. Mama texted me. we can go see her.” he said, and instantly Chris’s face lit up.

“we go now?” he asked, standing up. Anthony nodded, a smile gracing his features.

“of course bud.”

——————————————————————————

as soon as Chris laid eyes on you, he started crying again.

“baby, it’s okay.” you said gently, holding out your hand for him. he took it, and you pulled him closer.

“mama, huwt?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“no, Mamas okay. what happened to your hands?” you asked, seeing the bandages.

“someone tried to follow the ambulance and tripped over his own two feet.” Anthony said, pressing a gentle kiss to your head.

“oh, honey.” you said, and Chris started to hyperventilate.

“i sorry Mama. i so sorry,” he apologized, and you helped him lay on the bed.

his face mashed in between your breasts, and he felt himself calming. “you’re not in trouble, my baby.” you said, and he looked up at you. “Mama was just worried. are you a little worried too?” yoh asked and he nodded, tears pouring from your eyes. “what are you worried about?”

“no mama’s miwk no more,” he whispered, slipping further.

“oh baby. you’ll always have my milk.”

“so scawed Mama. so so scawed.” he admitted, and you pulled him up slightly. his had rested on your collarbone, and he inhaled the scent of you, a scent that always calmed him and made him smile.

“everything’s fine, baby. Mamas okay.” you said as his eyes closed.

Anthony kissed his forehead, and then placed a slow and sensual kiss on your lips. his fingers trailed over your skin, and he had a remorseful look on his face.

“are you really okay?” he asked seriously, and you smiled.

“yes, baby. i’m perfectly fine. we both know this was just a precaution.” you said, and Anthony nodded.

“yeah i know. doesn’t mean it didn’t scare me.”

“i know,” you said, your heart hurting when you saw a tear falling from his eye. “i know you were probably terrified, but you took such good care of our boy. you made sure he wasn’t scared, while being scared yourself. i love you so much.” you whispered, trying to keep Chris asleep on your chest.

“i love you more.”

——————————————————————————

[erensproudsimp]

Celestial

Armin Arlert x reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Content Warnings: sort of public sex?, Cunnilingus, vanilla sex, masturbation, a lil bit of fluff too

Summary: A date with Armin at his family owned theater, Armin makes you feel like the luckiest girl alive. *cough*y'all bang too*cough*

word count:3.4k

Also, fanart is by atosaido on insta.

Gazing at the sunset at the horizon spreading its rich hues of red blended with orange, purple and cimsons into the grateful sky when you heard your phone chime. The name on the notification itself was enough to pull the corners of your mouth into a smile. Gently you placed the book that you were reading on the table to grab your phone and unlocked it to see the message. It was from your boyfriend, Armin. Your heart swelled reading the contents. Armin requested you to get ready for a date that he was coming to fetch you in like an hour, however he didn't mention where he'd be taking you. Not giving yourself a chance to try to assume the location, you looked at the time. It was currently six in the afternoon, plenty of time to dress up until seven.

Clothes thrown all over your room, scavenging the closet you were having trouble settling on an aesthetic for your outfit. Since Armin was the type of person to take you to places that could be either cosy or extravagant or both, you made up your mind to a dark academia getup. A brown checkered mini skirt complimented with a beige sweater seemed to be quite perfect for the date. Your hair straightener was heating up while you were doing a light make up. Ten minutes later you were ready. It was almost seven as you went outside to wait for Armin's car to pull up to your apartment.

A fresh chilly wind brushed against your face pickling your nostrils but it brought you out of your daydreams to your senses as you felt alive and connected to reality. You rubbed your nose for warmth with your sleeve when right at that moment a white BMW. You swore your heart leaped in your chest upon seeing him. Like a happy puppy running to its owner, that's how Armin saw you when you were running in your boots to him. Throwing your arms around his neck, you jumped for a hug. Armin being quite well-built was able to handle your weight as he lifted you up to spin you around.

"Ahaha y/n I'm so glad to see you," Armin's voice muffled against your hair.

"Me too Armin, me too," you replied pulling back to make eye contact with him.

You had no idea how Armin liked you saying his name, especially when you were screaming it.

"Let's get in the car shall we? It's getting a little chilly," Armin said opening your door to let you in. You gave him a light smile for his chivalry. Closing it after you sat, he went to take his place in the driver's seat.

"So, are you going to tell me where you're taking me?" you asked him.

"Hmmm, nope," Armin answered bopping your nose with his index finger, "I'm keeping as a surprise till we reach it, besides I think you'd probably guess it with the route we're taking."

"Well then, let's see if I guess it right. Let's go!" you excitedly shouted.

Analysing the passing buildings and blocks, a light bulb went off in your head.

"Wait, are we going to your family owned theater?" crossing your fingers you questioned.

"Heh, you've got a good memory," Armin smiled over to you one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your thigh rubbing small circles.

Shrieking in happiness, you couldn't help it as that theater was nothing but a comfort place for you. Pressing the button to pull down the transparent glass, you let the cold wind hit your face making your hair fly, a smile stretching your mouth aware that this was going to be a good night well spent. Across the seat, Armin admired you for a while before pulling into the parking. How he wished he could keep looking at you forever. You were like drugs to him, no matter how much he consumed of your presence or just you in general, he's never satisfied.

Before you could get out, Armin came to your door to open it, extending his hand. Taking it, he pulled you closer to him, faces millimeters away. Smiling against his mouth but you didn't kiss him. Instead, you placed your finger between your lips, "Quite a gentleman, aren't you?"

"Only for you my love," Armin replied dragging you to the theater's entrance.

Hand in hand, you both ran to the magnificent creation that was the building. Nobody was in sight signaling you that you two were the only beings present in that place. The only sounds that could be heard were you and Armin's giggling and the rustling of the trees with the wind. The moon was shining so bright in the sky lit up by thousands of stars. It's brightness was the same as the one Armin brought in your life. He was your sole source of joy alongside the reason why you adored being alive so much.

"You really like the night sky, don't you?" Armin asked as he looked at you staring at the moon.

"A lot. The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I could die happy."

Your heart felt lighter than air at his answer.

"Before we go inside, mind if I blindfold you? I don't want to ruin the surprise," Armin requested holding up a black cloth.

"Sure thing," you replied as he tied it lightly so as not to hurt you.

Rather than taking your hands to guide you inside, Armin choose an easier method which was to carry you in his arms. At first you were bewildered but then when it hit you, it didn't really faze you as he was always doing sweet unexpected actions like this. He treated you as though you were the most precious thing to him, which you in all honesty were.

While he was walking to take you to the destined spot, he couldn't stop himself to gaze at you. You gave so much meaning to his life and to every little thing to him. From the feeling of the first sunlight hitting his skin, he was reminded of your warm smile to the moonlight illuminating the dark sky, he thinks of the way you bring him positivity even in the toughest of situations. He couldn't be in anymore bliss as this was the definition of heaven to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck for support, he was carrying his literal embodiment of happiness.

Gently putting you down, he asked, "Are you ready?"

"I'm more than ready!" mirthfully you exclaimed.

"Okay then", Armin said removing your blindfold, "Ta-dah."

At that moment, you couldn't decide whether you were more likely to smile because of what you were seeing or more likely to cry because of what you were seeing. Your mind chose the later as tears started to run down your cheeks.

"He-Hey, don't cry, why are you crying?" Armin confoundedly wiped your tears with his thumbs as he cupped your face.

"Did you do all of this... for me?" sniffing you looked at him.

"For who else did I do this stupid? Of course it's for you y/n", he beamed.

Apart from the usual dark room with a dark vibe like a traditional theater has, for this date, Armin had set up projections on the ceiling. And it wasn't any type of projection, it was the space scattered all across the white roof.

In awe, your eyes widen at the celestial beauty in front of you. Stars twinkling like little fairy lights, even a nebula in vivid details. It doesn't stop at that as there were loads of other spatial phenomenons occurring. Not only did Armin set up a picnic on the stage but beside it was also a mattress big enough to accommodate both of you to 'stargaze'. The fabric set with Ratatouille in a bowl, a bottle of red wine glimmering under the light and various pastries sat in soliditary splendor in the middle of the wide open space which was the stage.

"I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you Armin", you said sitting on the cloth spread on the wooden floor.

"No, I feel like the luckiest man to have the most perfect woman," he corrected you as he was pouring some wine into your glass.

Red tinted your cheeks.

"Cheers ?"

"Cheers," you raised your glass to clink with his.

This night couldn't be any more flawless.

A nice dinner in your favorite place with your favorite person, what else could you ask more?

As soft as clouds, the mattress sunk in with both of your weights. The wine coursing through your veins served as intoxication transporting you into this realm of abstractional interstellar.

Still mesmerised by the exquisite visual that resembled as though some heavenly artist had crushed crystals into his paint and then colored the cosmos with the finest of brushes, it didn't even compare to the beautiful man on whom you were laying on. Your hand on his chest, head on his shoulder, Armin held you so close to him as though you were going to disappear if he looked away. The blues and purples of the projection caressed his face.

Moving strands of your hair away with his finger, Armin asked, "What's the matter y/n?"

"Nothing, I was just wondering how pretty you are."

"I-I thank you," Armin blushed.

Gosh he was so cute.

Lifting yourself up, a frown on Armin's face at your action but then replaced by a astonishing look when he realised that you were straddling him. You had no clue of what you were doing, maybe it's was the wine or maybe it was just your desire for him, nonetheless, you craved his touch.

Your soft skin reflecting the light of the led made his fingers curl with the urge to stroke it. To his surprise, you grabbed his hands and placed it on your thighs revealed with your skirt lifted up. A light squeeze was given to them as Armin began stroking with his thumb waiting for your next move. The light illuminating from your behind aligned your figure making you appear as an angel in Armin's sight. Running your index finger from his cheekbones to his lips, you neared your bodies to press your boobs on his chest as you kissed him. His left hand dragged up your flesh to grab your ass while the right one entangled itself in your hair pulling your faces closer. Lips overlapping each other as you fought for dominance with him. Though Armin seems like a very sweet guy but looks may deceive, well, not completely. In bed he's like a cocktail, a combination of gentleness like flavored syrup or juice and of roughness like the alcohol in the drink.

Pushing your hips to his pelvis area, a groan leaving his lips cued you to further tease him. Up and down you grinded on him. Breaking the kiss to pull back, Armin went lower to your neck to pepper small kisses all over your sensitive skin, all the way to your jaw, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth to back on your neck to suck on your sweet spot. A light pain accompanied with pleasure made a tiny 'ah' leave your lips as he was marking your body. This only turned Armin more than he already was the moment he saw you.

Bringing his face back up , you collided your lips to his, more passionate than before. Sloppily you unbuttoned his shirt.

Abruptly he grabbed your back to switch positions with you. His chest now exposed was in front of your eyes. Removing the fabric off his body, his muscles shined in the light. This man was built like an art piece, his chest sculptured like the Greek soldiers.

"Allow me to be the one to please you," Armin's breath tickled your ear.

Feather like touches brushed your throat down to between your breasts to your stomach through your clothes. He took all the time in the world to appreciate the fact that you were with him and for him. You've probably never experienced such tenderness before meeting Armin. While making out with you, he his hands underneath your sweater to cup your boobs unaware of the dampness pooling between your legs.

With a swift motion, Armin took off your sweater and threw it across the stage. Black laced bra covering your breasts made you look more lustful. Armin's breath hitched in his throat.

"I don't think I'd ever get enough on beautiful you are y/n, everytime I undress you, it always feel as though it's the first time", he breathed.

You tugged at his belt, unbuckling it.

"Then show me how much you want me," you swiped your thumb over his lips.

Armin smirked. If looks could kill, you'd probably be dead by that.

"As you wish my lady."

Armin's big hands stroke your curves, brushing his lips from your collarbones slowly down your bellybutton but he didn't kiss your skin until he pulled down your skirt for your damp fabric to come in view to him. His soft lips didn't hesitate to press against your core.

"Ah- Armin-"

"You look so hot making that face, baby," Armin replied mouth still on you, you felt the vibrations of his voice through your underwear giving you goosebumps.

Armin dragged his tongue from the buttom to your clitoris, sucking on it making your underwear even wetter.

"Does this feel good?"

"Hmmm yes~," you reached out to grab his hair.

He chuckled at your reaction and proceeded to remove your last piece of garment. Your entrance dripping with anticipation, Armin gulped hard.

Like a wild animal out of cage, Armin attacked your pussy with his mouth. You leaped at his rough action and gripped on his hair for dear life as it seemed like this man wasn't going to leave you until he's had every part of you. Out of nowhere, Armin stuck his tongue into you making you arch your back. Thrusting it in and out of you, he gripped your hips in place so that you wouldn't squirm away.

"Gosh you have no idea how good you taste y/n," Armin panted sending chills down your spine.

Your tiny little pants and moans only fueled him to gain speed as he flicked your pearl in his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh-ah-Armin- Don't stop I'm close ~"

Taking your words into command, Armin didn't cease until you gasped and released everything in his mouth.

He swallowed every single drop of you as though it was his last time drinking any sort of liquid. While he was licking his lips to consumed everything he removed his pants as you were catching your breath. His dick sprung free from his cage, tip leaking with precum.

"May I?"lining his dick in front of your cunt he asked for consent.

"Just fuck me already Armin."

Slowly, Armin stoked it on your wet folds to lubricate it for it to enter more smoothly. Wet sounds of both of your excrements mixing filled the theater.

"Fuck you're so tight,"Armin groaned in his first thrust into you,"Are you okay baby? Do you want time to adjust? "

Still panting over his big size you nodded your head, your arm covering your eyes.

"It's okay love, take your time," Armin gently moved your hand away from your face to stroke your cheeks.

"Okay, you can move now," a minute later you told him.

Intertwining your fingers, Armin held your hand while the other held for support on the bed, Armin began to move.

With the projector in the background, this moment seemed so magical.

"You feel so good y/n arg-"

You hummed still doused in this dreamy state. The world around you blurred as the only thing visible in your peripheral vision was paradise. You could feel him moving so slowly between your walls, each of his popping veins so clearly. With time passing, your need for him grew bigger.

"Please go faster Armin."

"Anything for you," he replied as he picked up speed, this time more rougher on you.

Skin slapping, you arched your back, this time Armin slipping his hand on your back to make your bodies touch each other. Chests rising and falling rapidly, you brushed Armin's hair from his face to see his expressions better.Face twisted with pleasure, this man was so attractive.

It wasn't long until you felt the knot building up in your stomach.

"Y/n I'm-I'm close"

"Me too Armin, please cum with me"

Eyes boring into yours, Armin didn't hesitate to go even more rough with you.

Bending down Armin kissed you as he released his hot fluids into you.

"Are you okay? I hope I didn't hurt you my lady," Armin moved your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

"No Armin, I know you could never hurt me, that's why I love you."

"I love you too y/n," Armin kissed your nose.

Helping you to get up, he took some tissues from the straw bag in which he carried all the food in. While you were tying your hair into a ponytail, Armin wiped his cum from your body.

"I'm sorry I made such a mess on your beautiful skin y/n."

"Armin, why are you even appologising for this, please don't ," you giggled then grabbed his hands and kissed them.

Inhaling a deep breath, Armin got up to fetch your clothes and helped you wear them.

"Let me drop you home okay?" he carried you in bridal style to the car due to your legs shaking and being unstable. Throughout the whole voyage back, you just wished this night could last forever but alas reality is a bitch. His hands warming your thighs till his car reached your house and he took you to your bathroom to help you get into the bathtub.

Not wanting to hold him any longer, you reassured him that you were now okay and that he could take care of the theater to clean it for business the next day. The thought of people coming to a place where you and Armin banged without them being aware of it brought all the blood to rise up in your cheeks.

Parking the car, Armin entered the building with the scent of sex still lingering in the air. Taking care of all the stuff on the stage and cleaning it, he went to remove the projectors. Out of the blue it clicked in his head. Security cameras. Heaving a sigh of relief that he recalled this crucial detail, he rushed into the surveillance room to discard of the recordings for the night. However, before he did that, he did in fact consider to watch it. Debating in his head like attorneys in a courtroom he finally yielded to looking at them. He didn't even play the video that he was already blushing redder than his blood. Pressing the play button, he sat down on the wheelchair.

Holy shit did he not regret watching it. Even in bad lighting, you looked so hot on camera. It felt illegal for Armin to be doing whatever he was doing then.

"Ah-ah Armin-" you moaned his name and that awakened something in him or more like that hardened something in him.

"Fuck," he whispered under his breath.

From his pants, he could see the lining of his growing erection but he tried to ignore it. Eventually it began to feel a little painful from the restriction of release. Giving in into his urges, he unzipped his pants to let his dick breath from its suffocation.

He hissed as he spread the oozing precum across the tip looking himself eating you out. With his face buried between your legs, at that moment he couldn't clearly see your facial expressions compared to now.

The way your breath got stuck in your throat, your mouth made an 'o' when you tried to control your moans. The next time he was going to make love to you, he's keeping in mind to prevent you from holding back the sounds you make as he wants to hear each and every one of them.

Stroking his shaft up and down just like he's thrusting in and out of you, his motions rhythmic, he threw his head back on the chair hearing your sweet voice resonating the room.

Sinful.

To his shock, he came at the exact timing he came within you in the recording. Letting his actions absorb, still drown into the cloudiness of his mind, Armin couldn't wait for the day he could at last marry you.

Without further ado, he deleted the clips after he sent them to his phone as a token.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Movie marathon? Hell yeah!

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Pairing | "I got us matching shirts!"

Word Count: 1,027

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Asher/Babe)

Rating: G

Triggers: NA

Summary: After a busy work week, Babe suggests they do something fun on the weekend. Asher has just the idea. 

ConCrit: Y

I realised that I’ve never wrote a oneshot for Asher & Babe. Let’s fix that!

-

"Hey, welcome home Babe. Are you - shit, is everything OK? You look pale!" 

Asher stops himself when his Mate steps into their apartment, looking like they're seconds away from collapsing. So he hurries over to support them. Babe throws him a tired yet grateful smile and lets Asher takes their bag from their shoulders. 

"I'm OK, Asher. I'm just... exhausted. It's been a long day." Babe reluctantly admits and allows Asher to gently pull them on the couch so they can rest their feet.

Asher's eyebrows furrow in distress at the state of his Mate. They're exhausted, probably starving (he doesn't know if Babe has eaten anything other than the breakfast they had together today. He silently cursed himself for not calling to check up on them) and emotionally drained. He hates it. 

"You've been having a long week, Babe." Asher gently corrects them. When Babe rests their head on his shoulder, he hugs them tightly as if to shield them from the world. Babe snuggles deeper into his embrace. "You've been going out for work early morning and coming back late at night, every day. Sometimes even later than me. I'm just... I'm worried about you, Babe." 

"I'm sorry, Ash." Babe sleepily reply. They yawn and continue with a weary sigh, "Work has been crazy lately, but today was our last deadline, so next week should be a bit calmer. Hopefully." 

Asher beams and rubs their arm comfortingly. "Hell yeah, that's great to hear, Babe! Is there anything I can do to help you tonight? I made some avocado Caprese wraps, chickpea salad sandwiches and a cold chicken salad for dinner. Oh! We also have some lemonade in the fridge; squeeze 'em myself this morning too. You're up for it?" 

Before Babe could say anything, the hunger that had been on the edges of their mind now made itself known with a vocal reminder - both Babe and Asher startle when they heard their stomach growl loudly. 

Babe chuckles sheepishly. "Food sounds fantastic right now." They pause. "Hey, Ash?" 

"Hmm?" 

"We both have been working hard lately. How about we do something this weekend? I think we both badly need a break." 

Asher's eyes lit up at his Mate's suggestion, mind already racing with ideas. "Oh, yes! We should totally do something fun tomorrow! But you also need to rest up, Babe." 

Babe hums thoughtfully. "Well, I'm happy as long as we can do something together. It feels like I rarely get to see you nowadays..." 

Heart twisted in pain at his Mate's quiet admission, Asher kisses the top of Babe's head. "Same here, Babe. It sucks being adults, eh?" 

They snicker and remain on the couch to cuddle for a few more minutes before Babe's stomach growls again. While Babe excuses themselves for the bathroom, Asher makes himself busy by serving their dinner. He cheers when Babe re-appear wearing their pyjamas and with colours back in their complexion. It looks like the hot shower did them a world of good. "There's my, Babe! Come on, come on - let's eat! You're going to love the avocado Caprese wraps, I promise!" He declares after ushering Babe towards the chair beside his. 

Babe glances at their meals with a knowing smirk as they help themselves with a plate of wraps and some salad. "Interesting spread, Asher. All the things that don't require the stove." 

"You know it." Asher shoots his Mate a wink and grabs his own plate. Throughout their meal, Asher and Babe entertain one another about the possibilities of what they could do at the weekends. Babe offers to play Halo with Asher, which nearly makes him leap from his chair in joy but instead, something dawn on him. 

"I got it! Wait here, Babe!" Asher suddenly shouts, eyes wide with glee. His body practically vibrates with excitement as he abandons his food and runs towards their bedroom. 

Leaving Babe frozen in their seat with a fork halfway into their mouth. When they hear rummaging sounds coming from the room, Babe slowly resumes eating; their eyes glued to the bedroom door. 

When Asher burst out of the room, he's proudly holding up two t-shirts. "Ta-da! What do you think, Babe!?" 

Babe takes their time in chewing their food, swallow before replying, "Uh, think of what, Ash?" They ask sceptically. 

Asher is more than happy to explain his plan. "OK, here me out, Babe. Since October is just around the corner, do you know what that means?" 

"Uh, our bill for the heaters would increase?" 

"OK, yeah, I guess you're right on that one - hey, are you teasing me?" 

Babe laughs. "Only because it's so easy to do so." At Asher's puppy pout expression, Babe hurries to amend themselves while still supporting a fond smile on their face, "I'm sorry, Ash. What were you trying to say?" 

Asher perks up once more and flaps the t-shirts. "October means Halloween, Babe! So that means we're having a movie marathon all weekend tomorrow; the Fear Street Trilogy, the classics like Hellraiser, and uh, I guess we can give Malignant a shot too." 

A horror movie marathon? Well, Babe always wanted to watch Midsommar but work always get in the way. "We definitely have to give Malignant a try. But what's with the t-shirts?" 

"I bought these last week. Check it out, Babe!" Asher unfolds one of the shirts to display the front side. It wrote 'He's my trick' with an arrow pointing to the right, which Asher then showed the other shirt that wrote, 'They're my treat' with an arrow pointing to the left. "I got us matching shirts! Don't they look cool!? We have to wear them for our movie marathon tomorrow!" Here, Asher suddenly realises something judging by his shit-eating grin. "We can wear them to David's place on Halloween and watch him try not to die inside." 

Goofy matching shirts. That's so Asher that Babe can't help but fall helplessly in love with him all over again. 

Babe also can't help laughing their guts out at his 'prank' against the Alpha. "I'm in favour of David staring at our shirts in utter disgust. Let's do it, Asher!" 

[jayeray-hq]

He’s My Best Friend: Miya Atsumu

The start of a new series celebrating having 50+ followers thank you all so much! 😊💖 Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all fluff 

Choose your own ending platonic or romantic!

He’s My Best Friend Masterlist - Character Masterlist

Big thanks to Bri from our Haikyuu Headquarters discord server for beta reading for me she’s amazing! 😊💖 The Past : How You Met            

The day you’d met Miya Atsumu for the first time, you never would’ve guessed he’d become your best friend. After all, you’d been at an age where you were utterly convinced that all boys had cooties and were absolutely gross and boring. However, you’d just moved to Hyogo prefecture with your family and you’d honestly been feeling a little lonely.

It was the end of summer break and you were going to be starting school in just a week, in what would technically be the middle of the school year as a second grader, and the whole thing had made you more than a bit anxious. Luckily one of the perks of your new house was that it was right next door to a nice park, which meant your parents were more than happy to send you out to distract and entertain yourself.

             You’d done so with aplomb setting on to one of the swings and deciding to see if you could break your personal best for how high you could go, fully believing that if you just pumped your legs high enough you might actually be able to go over the bar the way some older kids had told you and your friends from your old school.

             There’d been a few other kids at the park that day, but you hadn’t felt the need to approach them, though nowadays you couldn’t remember whether that was from shyness or because you’d been too focused on your aerial goals. What you did remember though was him, or them actually; the Miya twins.

             They’d caught your attention because they’d taken up seats on either side of you. They hadn’t had a choice because there were only four swings, you’d chosen one in the middle, and the other one on the far-right end was clearly broken, the seat dangling from one of the chains. It wasn’t until later that you’d learn that the broken swing was their fault in the first place.

             The two boys had barely seemed to notice you, swinging in between them, shouting over your head about how one of them was going to beat the other. You weren’t sure who’d said what, all you could remember was how incredibly annoying the two of them had been, so much so that you’d quickly gotten over your awe that there were somehow two of them that looked just alike.

             It had been especially annoying because, despite their argument, it was very clear that you were the one who was going the highest, being the lightest of the three. Finally fed up with them ignoring you, and shouting over your head you’d decided to perform the neat trick you’d always done with your friends back home.

             With all the absolute fearlessness of youth you let the swing get to the highest point of its arc and leapt free, landing in a perfect crouch in the sand. Your little maneuver had managed to shock the twins into complete silence, and you’d turned to look at them in surprise as you dusted off your shorts, freeing them of sand. Both had been gaping, and you’d managed to catch the eye of one of them, the twin you now knew as Atsumu. You’d given him an absolutely haughty look before sticking your nose in the air and stalking away, completely ignoring their shocked cries, and their calls to wait up, figuring it served them right for ignoring you in the first place.

             Much to your dismay it turned out the loud twins lived nearby, and ever since your little stunt they’d been determined to befriend you. Atsumu in particular was relentless, chasing you everywhere and insisting on being your friend. You’d even ended up in the same class as him once school started, much to his delight.

             In the end his persistence had paid off, and the two of you had become good friends once you’d gotten used to his loud, unabashed, blunt personality. The two of you just fit together well, though it helped that you were far more willing to be dragged into Atsumu’s schemes than his much more realistic twin. While you did become good friends with Osamu, an inevitability given the twins were practically attached at the hip twenty-four seven, you were always Atsumu you were closer with, who you considered your very best friend.

 The Present : Your High School Days

             “What happened to your face?” you demanded shocked and a little appalled that your friend had shown up on your doorstep his face covered in scrapes and a nice bruise forming over one eye, “Did you try to receive a volleyball with your forehead again?”

             Normally you walked home every day with the twins, as you still lived close to one another, but you’d had a doctor’s appointment earlier that day and so had left school early. It just figured that somehow in the scant hours between the time you’d last seen him and now he’d somehow gotten himself into trouble. Honestly, trouble probably should’ve been his middle name; bold and brash Atsumu could be entirely too impulsive at times and Osamu tended to either egg him on or ignore him entirely. You, on the other hand, had taken the firm stance of compromise and while you did allow yourself to be dragged into his schemes far too often you also did your best to discourage some of his wilder ideas to keep both of you safe.

             “I only ever tried ta do that once,” Atsumu protested in response to your accusation, as you stepped back to let him into your house and ushered him toward the bathroom.

             “Once was one time too many,” you informed him dryly, “Especially since you’ve accidentally received with your face before and should’ve been well aware that it was an incredibly dumb idea.”

             “A man screws up once and ya hold it over his head fer ever,” he grumbled unhappily, as he hopped up on to the counter at your urging, folding his arms over his chest, a slight pout on his lips that had you rolling your eyes in fond amusement.

             “So, if you weren’t practicing receiving with your face, what were you doing?” you asked as you dug in one of the cabinets for the first aid kit. You’d had more experience with the thing than you cared to remember, patching up both yourself and the twins after all the scrapes you’d gotten into over the years, and made sure to keep it well stocked.

             Of the twins Atsumu had always been quicker to anger, though he was also quicker to cool down and forgive, unlike Osamu who was a bit of a grudge holder. It meant you had lots of practice patching him up, not that you could complain as half the fights from when you were younger were started on your behalf. Despite how he would tease you at times, often viciously, only he was allowed to do it, not even Osamu was allowed to make fun of you without Atsumu taking extreme offense and getting vicious on your behalf.

             It was why you never got angry at him when he got a bit snappy or came to you to be patched up. You knew you could always count on him to have your back though you were infinitely grateful he’d gotten much better at using his words over using his fists as the two of you got older, saving the physical fights almost exclusively for Osamu.

             He grumbled something unintelligible in response and you pulled your head from the cabinets to give him a look, one that long experience meant he interpreted perfectly as ‘spill your guts or else’.

             “I got in a fight with Samu,” he repeated a little louder so you could hear the words properly.

             “What did you do this time?” you asked as you set the kit on the counter, flipping it open and pulling out some disinfectant.

             “What makes ya think it was me? It coulda been Samu, it’s not always me!” he protested annoyed.

             “Because if it was Samu you’d be with him gloating over what a terrible person he is and whining to your parents, but instead you’re moping around here at my place and clearly hiding,” you informed him bluntly, ignoring his indignant spluttering as you demanded, “hands.”

             He offered the appendages without complaint, letting you gently clean his scraped knuckles, even as he sulked over what you’d said. You’d cleaned him up after fights both with his brother and with others he didn’t get along with more than once, so you knew despite how utterly vain he could be his priority was always his hands. Which was why you always started there, and were most careful with them.

 He’d told you more than once that a setter was nothing without his hands, and he was always incredibly meticulous about their care. Funnily enough it was also only you he’d ever trusted to help him with his hands. Not even Osamu was allowed to touch, and certainly no one was allowed to wrap his fingers or put bandages on them but you.

 “So, what did you say to Samu that ticked him off bad enough to try to break your face?” you asked, as you carefully dabbed his hands with the antiseptic.

 “He was bein’ scrubby,” Atsumu protested clearly still moping, “My sets were perfect, he shoulda been able ta get them.”

 “And let me guess, instead of just shrugging it off as him having a bad day, you decided to tell him he sucked to his face,” you finished with a sigh, already able to predict how your best friend would’ve behaved in a scenario like that. Honestly you wouldn’t be surprised to look up the definition of tactless in the dictionary and find a picture of Atsumu’s face next to it considering how utterly inconsiderate and blunt he could be at times. It was a good thing you’d managed to grow a thick skin over the years, otherwise your friendship probably never would’ve lasted as long as it had or been as strong as it was.

 “So, what if I did?” Atsumu protested, annoyed, though he didn’t pull his hands from your grip as you carefully bandaged them, doing your best to ensure he’d maintain proper mobility of his fingers.

 “Pretty sure Osamu would know he was having a bad day Tsumu,” you told him with a sigh, finishing up with his hands and moving on to his face, “He didn’t need you to rub his face in it.”

 “What so yer takin’ his side then?” he demanded petulantly, eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and anger, his quick temper rearing its ugly head.

 “Don’t be stupid,” you told him flicking him hard on an undamaged part of his forehead, “You’re my best friend Tsumu and you know it. I’m always on your side, even when you’re being a scrub.”

 “I ain’t a scrub,” he muttered sullenly, “An ya shouldn’t go beatin’ on me. M’ already beat up enough, what kinda best friend are ya anyways?”

 “The best kind,” you told him completely unbothered by his whining and well aware he didn’t mean it, amused at the pout he gave you in response, even if he would vehemently deny ever doing something as unmanly as pouting at you, “The kind that tells you when you’re being an inconsiderate jerk to people.”

 “Nope,” you cut him off before he could open his mouth, “You were a jerk and you know it Tsumu, otherwise you wouldn’t be here moping.”

 “I ain’t mopin’,” he protested half-heartedly, the fact that he didn’t protest the other part of your statement was as good as a confession and you both knew it.

             You hummed in amused agreement not saying a word, simply patching up his face with infinite care, and absently ruffling his hair when you finished, laughing at his protests off with practiced ease.

             “Can I hang out here for a little bit?” he asked quietly, the words almost inaudible as he refused to meet your gaze.

             “Of course, you can,” you told him fondly, “You don’t even need to ask.”

             He slumped forward, nearly making you stumble as he leaned on you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder in a rare moment of vulnerability, the ones that as his best friend you were privy to, his quiet ‘thanks’ muffled into your shirt. You rolled your eyes at him fondly, and gently pet his hair for several long moments until he lifted his head up and hopped off the counter fully prepared to pretend the moment of weakness hadn’t happened and loudly challenging you to defeat him at videogames.

             You huffed in amusement but allowed yourself to be sucked in, well aware that this was what it meant to be best friends with Miya Atsumu.

 The Future : Platonic

             You grinned down at the court, decked out as usual in your MSBY jersey that had Atsumu’s number on the back. These days you didn’t always get to go to every game the way you had in high school, even if Atsumu always made sure you had a ticket if you wanted one. You honestly just couldn’t, as the two of you were living very separate lives. Still that didn’t stop you from trying to go to every game you could, even if it took you a little out of the way at times.

             Your lives after graduation had been pretty hard on your friendship, what with Atsumu deciding to go pro right away and you off to fulfill your own dreams as well. Atsumu in particular had, had it rough as neither you nor Osamu could be there all the time for him anymore, and you knew he’d struggled to find and stand on his own two feet.

             You’d done all you could for him at the time, keeping your door open and your phone on you, ready to talk him through his temper or chew him out if he needed you to, the same way he always made time for you when you needed a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear, even if his advice wasn’t the greatest.

             Honestly, you’d been a little worried that your friendship would fall apart, that the two of you would grow apart because of the distance between you. You should’ve known Atsumu would never let that happen. He held on to your friendship with the same dogged persistence he’d used to procure it in the first place, reminding you of his presence and his support, brutal though it sometimes was, at every moment he could.

             In turn you could do nothing but return his fervor, reaching out to him and ensuring you scheduled things like meet-ups, phone calls, and more. The two of you had a snap streak that had lasted almost five years and counting, and neither of you had any intention of breaking it.

             The only small bit of trouble you’d had over the years was when the two of you had significant others. You’d noticed right away that the people surrounding Atsumu could be incredibly jealous and suspicious of you, the same way you’d had a partner or two who hadn’t liked how close you were to the nationally ranked pro athlete.

             However, Atsumu had always been possessive and protective of what was his, and your relationship was something he treasured just as much as he treasured the one with Osamu. It meant that if his partner so much as hinted that they wanted him to stop talking to you or hanging out with you, he dropped them, oftentimes ruthlessly and with no remorse.

                       You did your best to do the same, hanging on to your friendship, and telling the people you dated flat out that if they had a problem with Atsumu then you wouldn’t continue to date them. After all you’d been friends with him for over a decade at that point, and there was no reason why you should put more value into a new relationship over the one you had with him even if one was strictly platonic and the other romantic.

             Your combined stubbornness meant your friendship was still going strong even now, enough so that Osamu often referred to you as his twin’s other twin, because the two of you had proved to be inseparable.

 Yes, he was rude, blunt, and still a little temperamental despite maturing a lot in the past few years, but he was also fiercely loyal, supportive in his own way, and goofy adorable dork. He was your best friend, one you knew you’d someday be sitting with side by side in the future, the two of you old and wrinkled as you argued over whose grandchildren were better as you reminisced about the good old days. Honestly you wouldn’t have it any other way.

 The Future : Romantic

             The fact that your relationship had bloomed from a steady strong friendship into something romantic had surprised absolutely no one except for you. Even Atsumu, who you’d thought to be completely and utterly oblivious to pretty much everyone’s feelings, had known before you had, much to your eternal shame.

             You weren’t exactly sure where it had started. If it was in the moments where he’d lean on you physically and emotionally showing you the vulnerable moments he went out of his way to hide from everyone else. Maybe it was the way he’d go out of his way to touch you, ruffling or gently tugging on strands of your hair, an arm over your shoulder or around your waist, hugs everywhere in public and in private, completely and utterly shameless. Or it could be the times when he’d listen to you, simply making time, even when the two of you were busy, even when he wasn’t close by, pursuing his career as a professional athlete while you chased your own dreams, to hear anything you felt you needed to say. Whatever it was it had all come together in one moment, hitting you with startling clarity.

             You remembered it clearly, you’d been sitting in one of the booths of Onigiri Miya, you plus the team and their significant others, all celebrating Osamu’s success at finally opening the restaurant of his dreams. Atsumu had been sitting next to you, a casual arm slung over your shoulders, gesticulating wildly with the onigiri in his other hand, talking with his mouth full as usual, and showing no table manners whatsoever.

             Despite that you’d seen the way the light had caught in the gold of his hair, the brightness and clear joy in his eyes, and the wide smile on his lips and your heart had flipped over in your chest and squeezed near painfully as you looked at him. It had hit you then with all the force of a freight train. You loved him, you were in love with your best friend, with Miya Atsumu, the man who’d been by your side since that very first moment you’d met on the playground over a decade ago.

             You must’ve had an odd expression on your face because Atsumu had abruptly stopped talking, and turned to you with clear concern in his eyes, and demanded in his usual tactless way to know what was wrong with you.

             In a stunning moment of sheer blunt bravery and absolute recklessness that proved Atsumu had probably rubbed off on you a little too much over the years, you’d turned toward him looked him in the eye and blurted out ‘I love you’ right then and there.

             Osamu would later congratulate you on managing to do something no one had ever managed to do before by stunning his twin absolutely speechless, but in that moment,  you’d been too focused on Atsumu’s eyes to notice how quiet both he and the rest of the restaurant had gotten at your confession.

             No matter what, Atsumu’s eyes had always given away exactly what he’d been feeling, and in that moment,  he’d been staring with such blatant hope, and longing in his face as he searched yours for any sign of deception that you hadn’t been able to look away. Though you couldn’t help the way they fluttered shut as he leaned forward to press his lips to yours, cupping your face sweetly and holding you more tenderly than most probably would’ve thought he was capable of.

             The kiss was everything you’d looked for in previous relationships, warm and sweet, with a feeling of rightness and familiarity that made you feel safe and completely and utterly loved. You’d broken apart to the sound of cheering from the rest of the restaurant’s occupants, all of whom had been extremely happy for the two of you, even if Osamu and Suna did tease you rather relentlessly over it.

             Apparently, everyone knew the two of you were head over heels for one another, and Osamu had been listening to Atsumu pine over you since high school. That you’d finally realized your feelings had come as a major relief for the younger twin and you and Atsumu had been together ever since.

             It was almost strange how easily the two of you fell together, years of experience meaning nothing surprised you. There were no ugly habits or dirty secrets to hide. You knew all about his temper, how blunt and vicious he could be, you knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you. It was comfortable, warm, and everything you could’ve asked for because there wasn’t anything better really, than being in love with your best friend.

[hoebii]

The one with the snake

Pairing : Snake Hybrid!Kim Taehyung x CEO!Min Yoongi (MXM)

Genre : Fluff

Warning : Shitty customers, use of curse words, these two get it on at the end lmao 

Wc : 1961

Rating : PG13

A/N : Thank you @taegularities​ for being my beta ily. Hope you guys like this fic, if you have any idea/promt/req send ‘em my way~<3

-------------

Taehyung woke up to an empty bed, no sight of his boyfriend, and what made it worse was the fact that he’d had a nightmare. With the day already feeling like it was ruined, Taehyung left the bed and went to get ready. It seemed that life hated him though, of all the days, today had to be the day that the geyser had to break. 

After the insanely cold shower, Taehyung’s mood had worsened even more. Frowning, Taehyung walked to the kitchen after changing - where he couldn’t find his favourite jacket, so he had to wear a completely different outfit than he had planned originally - to find the toaster broken too. 

Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back in frustration. He grumbled as he walked to the fridge and opened it, annoyance rising even more when he found it empty, save for some coffee that he didn’t even like. Slamming it shut, he walked out of the kitchen and went to grab his things to leave for the day. He could get some food on the way or have Jin hyung make him some.

-----

Standing in the parking lot, Taehyung stared at his car, or well, the spot where his car was supposed to be but wasn’t. Mouth agape in shock, Taehyung slowly raised his phone to his mouth, “Hey Siri, call Min Dickin on speaker.” 

“Calling Min Dickin iPhone on speaker.” 

Taehyung stood there waiting for Yoongi to pick up, trying to figure out where his damn car went. “Hello?” A voice rang out from his phone. “Hey uh, where the hell is my car?” Taehyung asked.

“What do you mean where’s your car? It’s in the parking lot.” Trying to keep the creeping headache at bay, Taehyung rubbed his face, stress levels increasing with each passing second, “It’s not there, smartass.”

“What do you mean it’s not there?”

“What the fuck do you think it means?”

There was a pause after that in which none of them said anything, though Taehyung could hear muffled sounds of Yoongi moving around and talking to someone else. 

“Oh! Babe don’t worry, Namjoon took it to the repair shop apparently,” Yoongi spoke up after a while. Taehyung closed his eyes and took in a deep breath at that before saying in the sweetest voice he could muster, “Well then, baby. How am I supposed to get to work today?”

“....Ta..ke the bike?”

“Jungkook and Jimin crashed it last week, remember?”

“...I could send a car to pick you up?”

“Yoongi, your office is an hour away from here and I need to be there in,” Taehyung pulled his phone back to check the time, “7 minutes ago, great.”

“Call Jin hyung and let him know you’re gonna be late, I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

Before Taehyung could reply, however, his phone beeped once and then shut off. Taehyung tried turning it on, but the screen only displayed an empty battery symbol. He swore to himself as he glared down at the dead phone, he wanted to chuck that thing into the ocean.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Taehyung walked out of the building to catch a bus and finally get to work. Jin was gonna have his head.

-------------

The first thing that Taehyung had heard when he stepped into the kitchen was Jin’s booming voice screaming at him. “Yah! You’re so lucky you have me as a boss! Not only am I the most handsome boss, I am also benevolent. This is the third time you came late for your shift, you’re lucky I don't just fire you sometime! I know not everyone can be perfect, but really.” 

See, if this had been any other day, Taehyung would’ve joked around and said something funny as a reply, but it wasn’t any other day. Taehyung wanted to cry from the headache and this did not help at all. Taehyung contemplated if he could run back home and burrow but decided against it. Life may be a bitch but it won’t make Taehyung it’s bitch today. 

Not saying anything besides whispering a soft sorry, Taehyung walked past Jin to the staff room to change into his uniform, leaving Jin shocked at the normally cheerful man’s somber mood. 

------------

The day felt as if it would never end. The headache that had never left Taehyung, rather it kept getting worse as time went by but he still pushed on. Jin had asked Taehyung what was wrong when he came out of the staff’s room, but Taehyung had brushed him off without a word earlier.

Now nearing the end of his shift, Taehyung was praying to any deity above to not make this day any worse. The day was already a bad one, from the way it started to how it kept progressing. Someone had spilled their food right in the middle of the restaurant and Taehyung had to clean it up - now that wouldn’t have been so bad if while doing so another colleague of his hadn’t bumped into him and spilled even more food on the floor for Taehyung to clean up. Taehyung could only give the other person a tight lipped smile. He was just one more incident away from screaming, life really was testing him today.

It was proved yet again that life hated him though, because just as he was about to leave to change, a lady had cornered him and demanded to speak to his manager. Taehyung had stared at her in bewilderment, not having noticed her approach him in the first place before he quickly put on his ‘I might seem like I’m extremely happy to serve you, but I’m dying inside’ smile, “Is there something wrong, ma’am?”

“I demand to talk to your manager!” the woman shouted, now starting to attract others’ attention. Tongue flicking out to lick his lips, Taehyung asked, “Ma’am, please calm down. I could try to assist you in any way I can?” 

It was clear this woman would not calm down from how she started shouting even louder. Taehyung scrambled to try calm her for the sake of other customers and his headache to no success. 

“What’s going on?” Jin strided out of the kitchen at the commotion. The woman whipped towards Jin before speed walking to him, making Jin step back slightly from how aggressively she approached him. “Are you the manager here?” she asked, well, more like demanded.

Jin raised one perfect eyebrow at her, “I’m the owner of this establishment, what’s the matter, ma’am?” 

“Your waiter here has been staring at me the wrong way for the last five minutes! Who even hires a snake? They’re evil!” 

Taehyung stared at the woman in incredulity. What was she on about? He hadn’t even seen her before she’d rudely approached him! He was literally staring off into space till the- oh. Did she think he was staring at her cause of that? Taehyung almost snorted at the thought of how conceited someone can be.

Jin stared at her with mild amusement, “He was what?”

“Staring at me the wrong way!” “So not only are you saying that one of my staff members is evil, but also that Kim Taehyung was staring at you the… wrong way?”

“Yes!”

Not being able to hold back anymore, Jin laughed out loud at the absurdity of the woman in front of him. This wasn’t anything new to Jin, these kinds of customers were more common than he would’ve liked to admit. But someone saying Taehyung, the guy who was so in love with his best friend that he wouldn’t spare anyone a glance was ‘staring the wrong way’ at someone, much less a lady, was simply too amusing.

Clearing his throat and composing himself, Jin spoke up, “Ma’am I can assure you our staff would never do that, much less him.”

“Yeah? Well he was! Fire him right this instant or I’m never coming back to this place!” the lady threatened.

Taehyung watched in fascination as Jin, unbothered as ever, pointed at the exit and asked her to ‘leave if you wish to’ without any hesitation, gaze hardening into a glare. The lady flushed in anger and roughly poked at Jin’s chest, exclaiming as she did so, “This isn’t over! I will sue you!” before turning and leaving the place.

The only running through Taehyung’s mind as he watched her leave was how much she reminded him of a chubby little elephant stomping away. He kinda felt bad comparing a magnificent creature like an elephant to whatever hell spawn she was though. “Sorry Hobi hyung, didn’t mean to compare her to you.” He had whispered to himself.

Taehyung waited for Jin to scold him or talk to him, but Jin had just winked at him before returning to the kitchen. He let out a breath of relief before he too left to go finally change out of his uniform and go home, low-key convinced someone had put a curse on him or something.

--------------

Yoongi left the office earlier than he usually would, one of the perks of being the CEO, after getting a call from Jin about Taehyung not feeling the best today. Yoongi had rushed out of his office as soon as it was 5pm to reach home and set about preparing Taehyung’s favourite food and taking out all of his favourite movies, so they could cuddle and watch them.

Yoongi was going to make this day better for Taehyung, no matter what!

-----------

It was 8pm, but there was still no sign of Taehyung; he should’ve been back by 7pm. Yoongi sat on the couch, trying to call Taehyung, but the call never went through.

Yoongi decided to wait five more minutes before he would go out to look for Taehyung. Meanwhile he would go reheat the food to make sure if Taehyung did return by then, he’d get warm food.

Yoongi was about to leave the house when a soaking wet Taehyung walked in. Yoongi gasped in shock and rushed to his side, “Oh my god what happened?! Why are you so wet? Are you okay?” 

Taehyung dropped his sopping jacket on the ground and pulled Yoongi in for a hug, hiding his face in Yoongi’s neck, grip tightening. Yoongi hugged Taehyung back, not caring about how he was getting wet, too concerned about the crying man in his arms. 

“Baby what happened?” Yoongi asked, running his hand through Taehyung’s hair to calm him down.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Taehyung's muffled reply came as he nuzzled closer to Yoongi, desperate for comfort.

Yoongi decided not to say anything, just let Taehyung get it all out. After a while Yoongi had finally decided to step away and send Taehyung away to go freshen up while he would get the food so they could eat it while watching movies. 

------------

Yoongi had just set down the food on the coffee table when he was suddenly grabbed and pulled into a kiss. Yoongi stiffened at first but soon melted into it, hands raising to trace the scattered patches of scales on Taehyung’s body, making him shiver. 

Still kissing, Taehyung started backing Yoongi till they reached the couch. Yoongi fell on the couch as Taehyung moved to straddle him. He groaned as he felt Taehyung’s forked tongue lick at his lips, asking for entrance. Parting his lips, the two battled for dominance, Taehyung winning at the end. 

After a while, Yoongi moved back to break the kiss - Taehyung chasing after his lips, not wanting to stop - while panting slightly, “W-what about the food?”

Taehyung smirked, his pupils contracting into slits and his fangs showing, “I wanna have dessert first.”

Well then, Yoongi couldn’t say no to that.

[unbloomingmoonflower]

between wrath and mercy

Mismatched irises were narrowed sharply at the proposed plan. 

This was not a good plan. This was not something she was going to take part in.

This was a great insult. 

It did not go unnoticed; her beloved Reaper in her current Miqo’te form was gazing at her, undoubtedly gauging the aura from the Xaela. “Shuri?”

Shuri huffed through her fangs, her molars grinding as she folded her arms over her chest. “I am not taking part in this,” she announced to the group shortly. Kivera knew the tone well. While it was rare to hear it in the Xaela’s voice, it was clear that she was furious. 

Lyse turned to Shuri, eyes wide at the declaration the Xaela. One of esteemed Warriors of Light was always so gentle and appeared willing to aid when she could. This reaction was surprising. “What do you mean? Shuri, we need your help to bring this to fruition. To help Hien liberate Doma!”

“I am not assisting to liberate a nation on the backs of my people!” The words spat out of Shuri like acid, taking a threatening step toward Lyse and Hien, hands curled into fists. “Ta öörsdiinkhöö ashig sonirkhlyn tölöö bidnii ulamjlalyg munkhag baidlaar gishgedeg! Ezent gürnees yalgaagüi [1]!” 

“Shuri.” Kivera’s tone was calm, steady; yet it also served as a warning to the others in the group. Shuri was devout in her heritage; she would absolutely refuse to have it insulted in any form.

With a rough click of her tongue, Shuri spun on her heel. “The Tsagaan Sar is sacred. The nadaam is sacred. To create an army of Xaela to spare the casualties of your people, you risk mine to retaliation of the Garleans. As if we need more of that!” she shouted, striding away to the vastness of the Steppe, her long, snow-silver hair flying behind her. 

When Shuri was out of sight, Kivera turned her stony glare to Hien. “You’ve no idea how much you’ve angered her,” she told the Doman prince darkly. “Your plan is foolish and not without sacrifice. You wish to use the tradition of the Xaela--of Shuri’s kinfolk--to make your army. To lead the Mol to victory to secure this plan. Have you not seen how Shuri is devoted to her heritage, despite having not lived in the Steppe since the Garleans took her tribe from her? Her family?”

Hien remained silent during Kivera’s berating, his expression stoic before he spoke. “Mayhap this will also be cathartic for her. To fight with her people against the Garleans.”

Kivera shook her head, turning to follow Shuri’s path, before saying one final thing. 

“You truly are a fool, prince, if you think she will help you.” 

---------------------------------------------------------------

[1] “You foolishly trample on our traditions for your own gain! No different than the empire!”

mentions ship with @invidia1988​′s Kivera

[xmyshya]

Bumpy road

summary: What if two of your favourite boys were pining after you? genre: angst, fluff, crack warnings: stupidity special thanks: the whole HQ Headquarters DS, for giving me ideas, for hyping up, for everything, I love you all. a/n: Colour coded! Red for Kuroo, Yellow for Atsumu, black for neutral/both! There's an Easter Egg! wc: 3.9k words

[April]

“Please take a seat in the last row”, your eyes followed an extended arm of your new homeroom teacher until they landed on a boy with the messiest bedhead you’d ever seen. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to you though, instead resting his eyes on a faraway point on the other side of the window. Until he heard the noise you made while shuffling your chair, that is. “Hiiiiii, I’m L/N Y/N, nice to meet you neighbour!”, a wide smile formed on your face. “Kuroo Tetsurou, nice to meet you too”.

One week later, you were standing on the gym's threshold, filling your lungs with a deep breath before taking the first step in as a new manager. Volleyball had never been a sport close to your heart, but you had had some experience with it, as well as basic knowledge, so you were up for a challenge. All the more reason to after being asked by an unexpectedly fun friend. And being able to spend more time with said friend. But more time spent on talking came with another consequence. You started hearing rumours and whispers. Things like wow, she’s really talking to him or oh, another victim to his charm reached your ears from everywhere. “Kuroo, am I not supposed to talk to you or something?”, slipped your lips one day. You might as well continue, since he already heard you and was now looking at you with a confusion clear in his eyes. “I just heard people being… surprised about this”. “Oh, apparently I’m either intimidating or hot enough to be a fuckboy”, you choked on your own saliva. “You’re what?” “Intimidating or hot, or both”, did he really say that with a straight face, not once but twice? You just burst out laughing, eyeing him up and down. “Sorry, where?”, laughter bending your body in half, you bumped your head against the desk. “Ouch”

[July]

School premises were swarmed with sweaty boys. Some of them were familiar, like Bokuto or Akaashi, who had been friends with Kuroo for quite a long time. You recognised Karasuno, also known as Country Bumpkins, due to a practice match 2 months prior. The rest? Well, you only knew they were parts of the Fukurodani group. There was a mock game going on, and you, being a diligent manager, observed every move of your teammates to give them performance feedback. Further into the game though, your eyes shifted more and more onto your best friend’s lifting shirt, every time he went for a block. Or spiked. Or served. And wow, his thigh muscles were really… “Okay people, time for a break!”, a shout somewhere near you brought you back to reality. You stood up and made your way to the door, to catch some fresh air, while you bumped into quite a firm body. Looking up revealed it was Kuroo. His smirk made you wonder if he noticed your stares. His wink convinced you he, in fact, did. “Y/N, your name should be Neon, cause daaaaaamn you’re a perfect 10” “So you must be Helium, cause I sure as hell want you on top of me on a table”, few people whistled. Oh shit. His reaction gave you an extra boost of confidence, because now it was painfully obvious that all the rumours about the man in front of you were pretty much it, rumours, since his ears could as well be beacons. You winked at him on your way back to the door, and he still stood there dumbfounded when you looked back after reaching it.

[October]

Something had changed. You couldn’t quite put a finger on what exactly, but it was different. Like a tiny heat wave whenever your hands brushed, and they brushed more often. Like an extra beat of your heart whenever you felt his touch on the small of your back. Like your eyes lingering on for a second longer, before dropping to each other’s lips. Like a blush tinting his ears when you smile at him. Or like the way his heart clenched, when your thick tears threatened to burn their way through his chest, because the world had been unfair to you once too many, while the only thing he could do was to hold you so tight and kiss the top of your head so gently.

[November]

Having to stay late at school really was a blessing, when it was just the two of you in an empty train compartment on your way home. Otherwise, you surely would be scolded or at least stared at, because the decibels of your laughters while fooling around were beyond socially acceptable limits. He was now chasing you, fingers threatening to tickle you once you’re caught… You started to turn just in time for your back to hit the wall, and you definitely didn’t expect him to be so close, with the way he hovered over you and his hand making a loud thud. Or maybe it was your heart. “Oh sorry, the train bumped”, there was something in his eyes that compelled you to look into them, even when he leaned on his forearm above your head. He was so close, you could almost feel his breath on your skin. “Are you sure it’s not you falling for me?”, a chuckle in your throat died instantly as you saw his eyes open wide in fear for a fraction of a second, before his usual cocky smirk curled his lips again. He booped your nose before leaning against the wall next to you. The rest of the way home was silent.

[January]

It was time for you to run to your own team’s match. There was no way to miss a game for a manager, even if it was just your presence serving as a support on court. Your eyes slipped down to your watch only for a moment, but it was enough for a disaster to occur. You felt your body clash with another. “I’m so-” “Watch where yer running, ya fucking idiot”, you really wanted to apologise, you really did. But obviously not anymore, not when the other person was shouting at you like that. “Excuse me?! And where the fuck did your eyes go, huh? And don’t you dare speak to me like that”, your finger digging relentlessly into this stranger’s chest, despite his posture being so much bigger than yours, rage boiling in your veins blocking successfully any feeling of intimidation. “Do ya have any idea who ya talkin’ to? Miya Atsumu of Inarizaki, ya pig”, he straightened up and lifted his chin, looking down at you with a half smirk. You, however, only raised a brow. “Ooohhhhh…”, you squint your eyes for a moment, tapping a finger on your slightly pouty lips. “Never heard of ya”, you gave him a wide smile as you continued your rushed steps towards another gym. “W-wait a sec!”, shit, you really didn’t have time for this, “I uhh, sorry? I thought ya were one of dem stalking fangals and uhh...”, it was clear he wasn’t used to apologising. “The way ya talked back at me was so freaking cool! Can I have yer number?” You were shocked that he dared asking you that after the insults he spouted. Even more so, when you found yourself tapping your digits into his phone.

Nekoma won the match. Not that it was surprising, you always believed in the boys, and you had believed in their plan. But now that the game was over, you were heading to have a sneak peek at your Crow friends. You didn’t expect the situation to be so dire. From the scoreboard, your eyes moved to their opponents and… oh shit. Preparing to serve was HIM, none other than self-proclaimed “THE” Miya Atsumu. He noticed you too, surely, because he was grinning your way and oh my god was it a wink? Because it definitely looked like a wink. The whole match was a pain to watch. It had you hyped, it had you devastated, it had you crying and laughing uncontrollably. But when Oranges finally won, indescribable joy overwhelmed you, while you screamed and jumped around. Sudden hand on the small of your back startled you, emotion quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when you saw Kuroo attached to it. He hadn’t touched you in 2 months. “C’mon, time for us to go”, he pushed you gently towards the door while staring down the blonde setter behind your back. His gaze said he was taking up the challenge.

In the evening, the whole team was gathered in front of the tv to watch repetitions, over and over again, and figure out a strategy. Honestly your focus only could last that long, mind already looking for distractions, when you heard a ding from your phone. [unknown]: Ya know, could’ve been less happy about our loss. ‘M heartbroken now. [Y/N]: That’s what you get for playing against my friends ;) who’s this, btw? [Miya]: Whaddya mean ‘who’?! It’s Miya Atsumu here! [Y/N]: Aaahhhhh… Never heard of him :D [Miya]: We gotta change it then “Maaaaan, I wish we could play against Miyas”, Yamamoto’s voice dragged you back into the room. “Yeah, me too”, Kuroo hissed through clenched teeth.

[February]

Recent weeks were crazy. Preparation for college entrance exams was consuming most of your time, along with your sanity. If only Kuroo was with you, he would surely tell you to take a short break, instead, your mind was spiraling into educational anxiety. Am I doing enough? What if I fail? What if I forget something? What if… the soft sound of a notification brought you down to Earth. Miya Atsumu sent you a friend request. Ah, right. You were overworking yourself so much lately, that you almost stopped replying to his texts, still you were sure to receive at least one every 2-3 days. Request accepted. Just when you were about to re-focus on the textbook in front of you, another notification came. Miya Atsumu liked your photo. Amused, you click on it only to discover the picture was from… 4 years ago. Reaction disappeared, however, almost as quickly as it appeared. On the other side of the line Atsumu’s hands were shaking and sweating, his face red, as his brain was sent into an overdrive. Oh no, oh no, ohnonono, what have I done, has she noticed, do I look desperate, what do I do now, whatdoIdo. But you never said anything about it.

[Miya]: Ya need ta relax once in a while, ya know? [Miya]: Stress ain’t bringing in results [Y/N]: Wow, so you can say something wise :0 [Miya]: HA. HA. HA. [Miya]: Now please wouldya get me? I dunno Tokyo too much. 10 minutes later you were scanning the crowd on the train station in search of a familiar blonde. It wasn’t too hard to find him, but unexpectedly… he had company. Of 2 other guys, including one looking exactly like him, except for a different hair colour. They were introduced to you as ‘Samu (apparently Atsumu was too nervous to go alone) and Suna (he would never miss a spectacle like this). “So where do you need to get to?”, Suna looked at his friend with amusement, and you could swear you heard his twin whisper “she doesn’t know?”. Suddenly you had a phone screen right in front of your eyes, pictures of your favourite cafe on display. How did he.... “I wanna take a certain gal here”, Atsumu tapped on the screen, his eyes focused intensely on yours. As soon as you shifted your gaze from his mobile to his face though, he looked away. “Let’s go then, I guess”

Having your favourite hot chocolate in your hands would have been relaxing, if not for the deafening silence and weird smirks between two extras. “Soooooo, care to explain what you’re doing here?” “Sightseeing?”, blonde sitting opposite of you looks quite adorable with the pink tint, hand on the nape of his neck. Wait, adorable? “Yeah, y/n here being the sight, OUCH”, Suna jumped in his seat, definitely kicked by Atsumu. Maybe he was right, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a breather from books and notes. On the other side of the window, Kuroo was clenching his fists, as he watched you laugh, not really sure of the reason behind his anger.

[April]

Being late on the very first day is a bad omen, you cursed as you ran through the campus. It was NOT your fault that it was so needlessly big. It also wasn’t your fault that you spent way too much time searching for motivation to attend this class, which was clearly added to the program to harass students. It was bound to be the most boring subject, you just felt it in your bones. You opened the door to the lecture hall as quietly as you could, and then tiptoed to the nearest free seat, eyes trained on the lecturer (you thanked gods she was turned back to the room). Luck was on your side, she hasn’t noticed. “Whatcha doin’ here, babe?”, a sudden whisper and lips barely brushing your ears made you jump in your chair. You almost screamed, but the man’s reflexes were almost inhuman, as he covered your mouth with his hand. Truthfully speaking, it might have been better to prevent your knee from bumping against the desk, because now you had all the unwanted attention. And a hurting knee. “K-Kuroo?!”, you whisper-shout back at him. “I knew we enrolled in the same university, but same class?” “I think this might be the only one, since it’s mandatory for everyone” You thought this course might actually be your favourite.

Obviously he noticed it. It was impossible not to, since the pisshead was a new follower on almost ALL of your social media. Not just a follower, no. He was commenting on nearly each photo, and reacting to every. Single. One. At first Kuroo was just mildly annoyed. Then angry. And then he could feel his blood boil whenever he saw his name under your post. He wasn’t going to tell you though how he checked every hour or so if you had replied. That day, when you both sat in your room, working on some early assignment (two heads are better than one), your phone was blowing up. Tetsurou knew who it was, he saw the bubbles popping up on your screen. You didn’t pay attention to them, much to his relief. On the other hand, Atsumu was going crazy. “Samuuuuuu, she ain’t replying!” “Samuuuuuu, ya think she’s on a date?” “Samuuuuuu, did I annoy her too much?” “Samuuuu….” “Shut up, Tsumu” “Y/N? Smile for the photo”, he laughed when your head snapped towards his raised hand, and your eyes opened wide. Kuroo pushed the shutter button exactly when you smacked his arm. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!”, notes and the search engine slowly reclaimed your main focus, partly because you wanted to hide a blush blooming on your cheeks. “Just wanted to commemorate our first study session in our university life!”, he mused as he entered First assignment with the best girl <3 - @y/n in caption and pressed <upload>. Let’s see if you react to this one, asshole. He didn’t.

[May]

[Y/N]: Are you okay? You’ve been awfully silent lately. [Miya]: ‘M ok! Didn’t want to bother ya. [Y/N]: Huh? [Y/N]: Why the sudden change? [Miya]: Idk, maybe I shouldn’t text “best girl <3” [Y/N]: Atsumu… You’re an idiot [Miya]: Am not! He was. He realised this few days later, right before hopping on a train to Tokyo. Or rather… his brother made him realise this. “Huuuuuuuh?! Whaddya mean I like her?! I mean, I do, she’s cool, but whaaaat?!” “Tsumu… Yer about’a get on a train ta see her!” “So?” “Yer an idiot” “Hey! That’s what she said too!” Looking back at it, that might have been true. Maybe. After all, he was on his way to a city 500 km away, just to see… a friend. Would he do that for just a friend?

He found you outside, and he swore it was the prettiest scene he had ever seen. Gentle breeze blew your hair, as you basked in the sunshine. With your floral dress you reminded him of a flower praising the sun. In that very moment he regretted he hadn’t bought you anything, not even some flowers. Not that they would compare to you. He watched you turn to him in slow motion, as if he was in a movie, and you were about to jump into his arms. You just smiled instead, but its brightness could rival the orb up in the sky. At that moment, he knew he was gone.

“So ya say… there’s anime about volleyball?” “Yes! And it’s so good! Seems pretty accurate too!” “Ya hafta show me! That’s so cool!”, he reminded you of a kid, with his eyes shining like glitter, and a smile covering at least half of his face.

He had exactly the same expression, when he suddenly stopped walking and you bumped into him, ice cream spreading nicely on your nose as he was taking a selfie of both of you. And then again at the train station, when he was worried his arms might have lingered a tad too long around your waist, but you didn’t pull back. Later, a screech could be heard in your room as that photo appeared on your timeline. With your name attached to it. In yer face, rooster bastard, Atsumu thought as he had clicked the <upload> button. Kuroo only scoffed, original much. But if that’s how he wants to play…

[July]

Lunch break was your favourite part of the day not just because it was, well, a break, and not only because of lunch. It was the time spent on talking, goofing around and stealing each other’s food, together with Tetsurou. That day, however, exhaustion took over and you couldn’t do much more than just lay your head on the cantine table, your hair a messy veil. “I can’t wait for summer break to come, I want it to come already! My brain is so tired” “Hang in there! It’s just 2 weeks of exams, and then we’re free!” “Why are you doing this to me, Kuroooooo” “I’ve always been a nice person” His hand was soft as he gently uncovered your face, strand by strand. “Wanna go somewhere and relax a little before all hell breaks loose?” Soft hum was the only thing leaving your lips as you melted into his touch.

The sun was merciless, as if its sole purpose was to burn the Earth to ashes. The fact that you were ankles deep in a stream and shielded by dense leaves didn’t help at all. Undeniably though it was soothing for the soul. “Okay, let’s move on”, Kuroo said, despite wanting to watch you forever. There was something about this relaxed expression that strung the cords of his heart. Yes, you looked happy. It took you too short a while to have shoes on and be ready to walk again. Summer breeze felt wonderful as you climbed up a rocky hill, scorching heat finally letting up a little. Temptation to just stand there with eyes closed and arms open wide almost too strong. Still, you let yourself submerge in it enough, not to notice a slippery boulder. You were preparing yourself for the impact, but instead, you felt a pull on your wrist and then a firm chest in front and a strong arm around your waist. “Please be more careful”, a whisper rather felt than heard, barely louder than a breath. This and his scent intoxicated you. “Let’s go?”

The view was magnificent. Just behind the hill, there was a lake, as clear as glass. Its naturally azure colour was tinted with golden afternoon light and rosy flowers covering the trees growing around the coastline. Some of the petals were floating on the surface, between the sun kissed shimmers. It was truly breathtaking, both of you wished you could stay in that moment. Neither of you noticed, none of you had let go of each other’s hand.

[Y/N]: Random thought. [Y/N]: What if I were a werewolf? [Miya]: … [Miya]: Are ya? oO [Y/N]: Hmm? Would it be a problem if I was? [Miya]: I… ‘m allergic to dogs… :( [Miya]: I swear I’ll get meds! [Y/N]: Wow, such a sacrifice! You would do that for me? [Miya]: I would even hunt squirrels for ya! [Y/N]: Squirrels? [Miya]: Or whatever werewolves eat [Y/N]: Wow, I’m speechless “Samuuuuuuuuu, she sent me a heart! A HEART!”, the fluttering in his chest was almost unbearable. “Shut yet mouth, ya simp! It’s 1 am!” He wasn’t a simp, of course not. Sure, he did watch whatever you recommended to him, and listened to whatever song you said you loved. He did research on things you had said were interesting, and rushed to his phone whenever it announced a new message. But being a simp? Him? Never.

[August]

If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what would be. Warm sand under your back, cool water coming in waves to wash the heat off of your skin, and the sun watching you from the clearest sky. You heard a click somewhere behind your head, and opened your eyes to see your relative, showing proudly their creation. “You just looked so blissful, Y/N. Couldn’t help it”. You couldn’t blame them. You didn’t remember feeling this much at peace either. “Send it to me, please!”

Tucked gently in your covers, you were swiping through your gallery, admiring the pictures you and your relative had taken. After another round you finally decided which ones you wanted to share with the world, a mixture of landscapes, sunsets and portraits. As soon as you were informed about the post being up, you silenced your phone and closed your eyes ready to sleep… This might have been one of the best decisions you had made recently. You had never seen that many alerts on any of your content. Majority of these were from Atsumu, who obviously made sure none of your uploadings went unnoticed, which spread a warmth in your chest. What really caught your attention though, was how many times one particular picture was mentioned. Yes, the one on the beach. It was almost scary. {Kuroo}: Babe, you shouldn’t expose yourself like that, there are thirsty bois around. {Atsumu}: Who tf are ya callin’ thirsty?! {Kuroo}: Never said I was talking about you, but I guess I found one {Atsumu}: Listen here ya smug ass’ole, ya think yer funny? Suna only sent a gif of popcorn eating {Osamu}: Okay Y/N, as much as I find this exhilarating…just choose already, spare those two poor souls! Suna sent another gif, this time a very disappointed one.

Choose? Wtf does that mean? And then it hit you. Kuroo suddenly getting touchy again after distancing himself from you. His sudden clinginess whenever Atsumu interacted, phone in plain sight. Miya’s constant attention. His willingness to travel and never asking for anything in return. His eagerness to learn about anything you liked. Had you really been so oblivious for this whole time? Well, it could wait until you were back home.

Memories flooded your mind as you were typing the message, your heartbeat rate over the roof, your hands shaky, but you knew you needed to do this. For your sake. For his sake. One last glance over the text “I think it’s time for us to talk…” before you press <send>

Epilogue 1 - Kuroo Epilogue 2 - Tsumu Epilogue 3 - both