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bones4thecats · 3 months

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Their S/O Assists Them With Their Hair

Characters: Cater Diamond, Leona Kingscholar, Jamil Viper, and Idia Shroud Inspired By: The multiple cards A/N: I have been laying this off to the side for such a long time so I decided to finally write this. Also, I've been having a hard time with the border around the images, so I changed it. Anyways, have fun reading this!! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing. Just pure fluff ⚠️

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╚═════ Cater Diamond ══════════════════════════╝

💎 Cater doesn't change his hair up very often, only making it different when he has special events such as performances for the music club

💎 One day, you received a text from Cater asking if you were going to their next concert the following week, in which you just smiled and replied with a happy yes

💎 You knew from Cater's many messages and calls from his club meetings that they were getting more and more excited and anxious for the day that it came and they would set up and play to their heart's content

💎 Over the passing week, everyone could see how happy the group was, and you had a front seat to it. Since Cater would send you photo and video after one and another of them having fun getting ready

💎 Then came the day

💎 Cater was beyond stressed out, scrolling through his feed to find the perfect hairstyle that he could use for that night, to which you sighed and laid back on his bed as he stressed

"Cater, Honey, are you sure you know what you don't want any help?"

"Yep! Just give me a minute. I'm sure I can find the perfect hairdo!"

💎 The sound of his shoes hitting the floor in a circular motion was giving you a headache, so after about four more minutes, you slapped your hands on the nearby table and told him to sit down

💎 Cater was shocked when you took his phone from his grip and secured it into your pants pocket before grabbing his shoulders and forcing him back on his butt

"Thankfully, Vil taught me enough during the time I spent helping with the VDC. Now, just sit down and relax, I'm sure I can figure something out quick."

💎 As you walked around the bathroom and grabbed multiple brushes and clips to hold his hair as your designed it, Cater watched memorized, you really were beautiful when helping others, weren't you?

💎 It took a mere ten extra minutes for you to decide and fix up his hair, making it into a shaggy-crop style. You smiled and kissed his forehead as he stood up and adjusted a couple light-up weave-like pieces and allowed rose his phone, which you gave back halfway through styling, and took a selfie of you and him

"Hashtag: 'Cay-Cay's S/O' , 'Cay-Cay Getting Ready' , and 'NRC Music Club BTS'. "

"Good luck, Cater."

"Thank you so much, Love Bug."

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╚═════ Leona Kingscholar ════════════════════════╝

🦁 He, unlike other beastman, doesn't enjoy having his hair touched. He does it a certain way and doesn't want it to be messed with like how his brother would do

🦁 This means that every time you would ask to style his hair, he would just open one eye, say no, and then lay down on you. Claiming you as his makeshift pillow for one of his many daytime naps

🦁 To actually get him to agree, you'd most likely have to either wait until a couple months into dating or marriage, and we all wanna know what his hair feels like, don't we?

🦁 Now, when you finally got to touch his hair, Leona had come back to his room drained from the long day. He had gone to all of his classes and then Magift practice. All without a single nap throughout the day

🦁 The guy had practically barreled onto the sheets of his bed after throwing his bag of dirty clothes on the ground. He groaned as you chuckled, opening your arms for him to lay down there

🦁 Thankfully, Leona had taken a shower already and was perfectly clean. Not a single drop of sweat on his body. Meaning he could be curled up on you without you trying to pull/push him to take a shower to get clean

"Leona?" You asked, your head moving from the book Leona gave you a couple weeks ago. He merely growled lowly before looking up and into your eyes and asking what you wanted.

"I was just wondering... if I could- y'know. Touch your hair? You don't have to let me, I understand if you wouldn't want me too!"

🦁 Leona smirked and reached up to take his hair out of the ponytail he lodged it into after showering earlier. His long brown locks dropping down, a slight amount of water there, he obviously was to tired to spend a ton of time drying it

"Have at it."

🦁 Smiling gently as you laid the book down, you began to move his hair around gently, using your fingers like a make-shift brush (did anyone else's mom/dad/guardian do that when they were young?) to get the small knocks out

🦁 After doing that, you began to rub his scalp, allowing him to relax and let out a very low purr, though it sounded more like a satisfied hum to you, and kissed your exposed thigh. He was thankful you were wearing shorts. (Though how could you NOT? It was like over 70 degrees in that dorm!)

"Do you feel better, Leo?" You asked, only to be met with the soft snores of your boyfriend.

🦁 His larger form was hugging you tightly as you chuckled and embraced him back, nudging a blanket on top of your both. He was a lot more than a mere second-born prince to you, he was your one and only prince, from now till the day you die

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╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Jamil takes pride in his hair. It has always been one of the only things that he had full control over. Throughout his life he never got full control of anything, except for things like his hair (I know this is wordy, but you get the point)

🐍 Anyways. When you had asked him to do his hair, he was getting ready to cook for the remaining Scarabia members for the spring break. Some students volunteered to stay while others left, he and Kalim volunteered to stay, along with you

🐍 You noticed that he was having a hard time keeping it out of his face, so you excused yourself from the third year and walked into the kitchen

🐍 Jamil was getting more and more frustrated, he was so close to taking the scissors and snipping his ponytail off if it won't stop getting in his way. Thankfully, the sound of your chuckles made him look up and nervously look away, embarrassment was obvious in his expression

🐍 You smiled at him and told him to sit down as he began to put some ingredients away. You had been helping Jamil cook long enough to know that the food needed to simmer for a while, just long enough for you to help him out

"Jamil, would you like your hair completely out of your face? And not done by having it shaved... or cut by kitchen utensils?"

"...yeah."

🐍 Handing him your phone as your began to take his hair out of his ponytail, you told him to just hang out and let you do what you knew best: hair styling

🐍 As you meticulously placed his hair behind his head, Jamil felt relaxed, even more relaxed then ever before. You treated his hair with the amount of care that he did. It was admirable just how much you paid attention to his reactions as you worked

🐍 After maybe a couple minutes, you had patted his hair down and gave him a cheerful done before telling him to turn the camera on and put it in selfie-mode

🐍 He did as he said and was shocked. You did beyond amazing! His hair was completely out of his face, and he didn't look half bad. He had to admit, he needed to put his hair up like that more often when he worked

🐍 Jamil stood up and hugged you, his arms giving you a snug squeeze as you chuckled and kissed his jawline. He smiled and kissed your forehead before thanking you and handing you your phone back. Right before you left though, your boyfriend called your name and asked

"Would you like to help me cook?"

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╚═════ Idia Shroud ════════════════════════════╝

🎮 This guy. Ho this guy

🎮 When you guys first began dating, he was very off-handed. He was not, and still really isn't a big fan of physical touch. He just doesn't like it that much

🎮 That doesn't mean he hates it, he just prefers to simply spend time together and give you things. He sucks with his words (he overthinks like me), he has a hard time with acts of service (he doesn't go out often, so he can't do much outside of his dorm), and he has a massive issue when touched. He just freezes and stutters a lot more than before

🎮 Idia does like it when you're physically affectionate sometimes. Like when you would lean your head on his shoulder whenever he gets frustrated with a level in a game he has been working on for days to calm him down. He likes that kind of stuff

🎮 So, whenever you would ask to mess with his hair, it goes from a beautiful blue to a campfire-like orange and red, the tips being flushed with pink like his face as he stuttered and mumbled

🎮 After the first couple times, you decided to lay loose and allow him to come to you whenever he wanted you to mess with his hair. It was his choice and his consent and comfort was just as important as your own

🎮 It only took maybe a couple weeks for him to begin wondering why you weren't asking to mess with his fiery locks. But, in true Idia Shroud fashion, the male strayed away from questioning you until the thought was all he could wonder about

"Hey... Y/N?"

"Yeah, Idia?"

"D-do you think, you could maybe... y'know... mess with my hair a bit?"

"What? Please repeat louder, honey."

"Damn it... could you mess with my hair please?"

🎮 You smiled and laid your phone on Idia's desk before he moved away from his gaming chair and sat down in front of you on the bed, continuing to play his game and groan about how the 'noobs were releasing more time camping and not acting as aggro against the boss like he was'

🎮 It was funny how much gamer lingo Idia used when he was outside of class-related situations. But it was quite funny when he then began to speak of how 'op the boss was and how the rest of the players needed to get off their buts and act like true FPSs and help him defeat the bullet sponge of a boss'

(Yes I looked up gamer terms, I am dumb T^T)

🎮 You just chuckled as his face went from petrified as he ran from danger to reload his weaponry to coming up with the most determined expression you had ever seen on him. Playing these games really made him feel better than he was outside speaking to others

🎮 It lasted maybe a couple hours before Idia finally noticed you weren't playing with his long hair anymore. So, he looked up and saw you laying down asleep on his bed, one of his larger hoodies was around your top and he couldn't help but smile gently as you snoozed

🎮 He decided that he was going to lay down on the bed to, not to sleep, but to get a more comfortable angle to play in. So, he stood up and got on the bed, pulling the sheets down and over your arms and his legs before looking back at his phone, noticing it was in camera mode. He must've hit the button at the bottom as he secured his spot

🎮 Idia gasped quietly as he saw how you did his hair. It was like a mixture of multiple braids with a single thicker braid behind. The housewarden couldn't help but smile and laugh like the little dork he was

🎮 After the little giggly fit, Idia looked at you and shut off his phone before laying down next to you, holding your arm as you shuffled onto your back. He smiled and closed his eyes. If you did something so nice to him, he could at least get maybe a couple hours of sleep for you

(I have so much Idia brainrot right now it's insane)

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cattlemons · 2 months

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Third Fifth Time's A Charm

| You and Megumi have been dating for quite some time now. Almost half a year, give or take. Upsettingly enough, he has yet to say his ‘I love you's. This bugs him a bit too much so Megumi is now a man on a mission and that mission just so happens to be about confessing his love to you. Basically the four times Megumi almost dropped the “L” word and the one time that he did. I mean come on, fifth time’s a charm, right?

TW: None, I think? I wrote it with college!au in mind but can be read as just a normal jujutsu kaisen fic Just fluff after posting angst, megumi gets chased by a duck? idk what counts as a tw pls let me know if I should add anything, also actual big boy writing cus word count is 3k.

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Crumbs, ducks and hold on a minute...

It was around October when the leaves were finally falling and the air was brisk. Megumi had decided to take you out for a mini-date before finals week whisks the both of you away, each secluded in their own world of ink and paper.

It had honestly gone mostly ok and as planned. The usual schtick, really. Compliment your pretty outfit, exchange loving banters on the way there, get to the park and enjoy your time together. Simple and easy, right?

Wrong.

Megumi and you had just finished eating the sandwiches he’s prepared for the picnic. They were wrapped so neatly in pink patterned paper that you can’t help but swoon at the time and effort it must’ve taken for him to prepare it all.

Megumi took to the toilet a bit after that, or, he planned to. What he didn’t see coming is the fact that ducks started chasing him around right as he walked past the pond. You soon learned that they were chasing him because of the bread crumbs falling off of his jeans.

After a few bouts of running on Megumi’s part (and giggles from yours), the ducks finally stopped following him. Opting to squawk at the couple on the other side of the pond that’s actually trying to feed them crumbs and seeds.

Megumi soon found relief as he sat back down beside you still huffing and puffing from the unexpected marathon he ran. Of course, you being the compassionate girlfriend that you are, did not let him off easy. At least, not without teasing him a bit.

“You know those ducks have really good taste in men,” you quipped. A few beats of silence pass before the two of you erupt into a fit of laughter.

You were nearly in tears as you continued to giggle uncontrollably at the mental image of Megumi getting chased and flirted with by ducks. Though you probably won't find your laughing any special, Megumi found it absolutely breathtaking.

From the way your eyes brighten at the hilarious image to the sound of your held-in guffaws, Megumi just can’t get enough of it. He wants to hear it over and over again. He absolutely loves it.

And he absolutely loves you.

Wait, huh?

Watson, how do you say “I love you”?

“Finally! No more stuffy libraries and definitely no more books! I’m so happy it’s over,” you yelled as you stretched out your tired back.

Finals are over and you can now rest without worrying. However, it’s a whole other story for Megumi. He is still stressed out of his mind but not because of the reason you might think. No, he is stressed because he has yet confessed the feelings hidden deep in the recesses of his heart.

I love you.

Who knew such simple words could drive one mad. Megumi never would’ve thought the stress his feelings would bring could trump the amount of stress an exam would bring but he supposes that he can only be so many times.

Megumi has decided that maybe he should tell you the three words that have been plaguing his mind. So a few days after some much-needed rest, Megumi proposes a little trip to the art museum. Who were you to refuse such a sweet request?

Dressed in his most academic-looking attire, Megumi readies himself for his little confession, going so far as to script it.

Yes, today he will confess!

Today he did not confess.

It really was the perfect moment. Megumi feels absolutely horrible for letting such perfect timing pass him by but nothing could be done about it now.

The perfect timing came by when you were nearing the end of the date. It was a really fun date, possibly one of the best ones so far! Megumi had shown you around the museum, giving fun tidbits of information on each art he sees. You were about to point out how knowledgeable your boyfriend was before it finally clicked.

“Ah! My dear Watson, I think I’ve solved the mystery. It turns out the Duke of Information, Megumi Noritoshi, has done ample research before this date! Proof in the pudding, Watson, look at his palms,” you teased as you took his hands into yours and pushed back his sweater sleeves to see smeared notes on his earlier “fun facts”.

Megumi’s face turned pink as he flushed at your exposing of his secret. Muttering a small, “Blimey, I’ve been caught!” in response to your little skit.

Seeing him blush and flustered has you grinning (not that anyone could blame you, it really is a cute sight). Taking your chance, you decide to tease him a bit more. Opting for light nudges of your elbow and soft kisses all over his face. This, of course, did nothing to ease the red spilling all over his cheeks. If anything it painted more colors on his face.

Once the teasing died down, you decided to maybe be a bit more heartfelt. After all, he did prepare for your date and put in so much effort to learn these facts and information.

“I might not say this enough but I absolutely appreciate you putting this much effort into our dates… maybe I have not been vocal enough about these things but I hope you know I really do appreciate you doing this and… I love you,” you mumbled a tad bit quieter than you usually would. You’re even caught sporting a light blush of your own despite you trying your best to keep a nonchalant front. This isn’t your first time telling him you love him but, still, being so heartfelt like this has you blushing.

Megumi smiled at his usually unbothered girlfriend being so, well, bothered.

Wrapping his hands around your waist, he goes to give you a small peck on the crown of your head before leaning in a bit more to whisper his confession.

I love you!

Yet the words did not seem to tumble out. Although a bit disappointed in his lack of confidence, Megumi recovered quickly and instead leaned in for a sweet kiss.

I wonder if fishes have confessions too?

“Megumi look! They’re so pretty,” you exclaimed excitedly as you pointed at a jellyfish swimming past. Megumi nods in agreement though he is honestly paying more attention to you than the exhibit.

Megumi has taken it upon himself to set up another good date to confess on. Truth be told, he’s had far too many nightmare-ish thoughts about his recent failures in confessing and how he’ll never be able to say it. So, to take action, Megumi decides to take you on another date. This time he decided that maybe visiting an aquarium would be fun!

He is sorely mistaken, unfortunately.

As you continue to walk through the exhibit, you fail to notice Megumi lagging a bit behind you in the aquarium tunnel. Your attention was so fixated by the fishes swimming over your head and on each of your sides, that you missed the sight of your boyfriend darkly muttering (and struggling) on his confession script.

Or so he thought...

“Honestly, why can’t I just be a fish-”

“Why would you want to be a fish though?” you asked as you leaned in towards him.

Megumi’s eyes widen in surprise at your sudden intrusion. Megumi supposes that he’s been too lost to the world. He shook his head and just muttered a quiet “never mind”.

The day continued as you enjoyed your day. You feast your eyes on magnificent sea creatures both great and small; you can’t help but awe at them as a child would. Not that Megumi minded, he thinks you look absolutely adorable when you coo at the sharks or clap at the seals when they would do a trick. However, Megumi couldn’t say he’s enjoying today as much because he continued to struggle with his little confession script, either chickening out at the last minute or completely missing the perfect timing.

By the end of the day, Megumi decided enough is enough. Under the dim lights of the empty “deep sea” sector of the zoo, Megumi closed his eyes and steeled himself. Summoning every bit of courage he had within him, he blurted out his confession. It was a bit aggressive and loud, perhaps even a bit rushed.

But he did it-

-not.

Megumi opened his eyes, to be greeted not by your soft smile. It wasn’t even your frown. Instead, he was greeted by a fish staring directly at him through the aquarium glass. It seems to be mocking him, almost. And as for you, you were already at the other side of the area, lining up to pay for a souvenir that caught your eyes.

Ugh, why can’t he just be a fish and blow bubbles at you to show his love?

Wine is a poetic mood-setter, right?

Although tired and defeated by his numerous failed attempts, Megumi is not one to give up. This is especially true when it comes to you. So, if one plan fails then best be known he is already running back to the drawing board to come up with a new one.

This time around Megumi decided to pull up on all the stops. Sparing no expense, he reserved a table at one of the city’s most high-end restaurants. I mean what could be more romantic than a late-night wine-and-dine?

To Megumi it’s not the pricey menus that are troubling, nor is it the number of strings he had to pull to get the reservation. Nope. What’s troubling him is the confession he is secretly building up to. You see, it’s been a good handful of months since Megumi came to the realization that he absolutely adores you.

He loves you.

Yet, somehow, saying it out loud is a whole different league than thinking and coming to terms with it. Something about admitting it and posing vulnerable seems so jarring to him. Of course, you’ve never given him any reason to fear being honest with you. He supposes that if anything were to cause him to be this certain way, then it’s probably the lack of touchy-feely emotions in his childhood. That aside, Megumi is still as determined as ever to tell you that he loves you. This brings us to the current situation.

Megumi is seated opposite of you, decked in his slickest suit and tie. You had admitted that he looks ridiculously good in his outfit before the dinner (he blushes at the comment). Naturally, you were also in a rather stunning number yourself, with the scandalous-looking outfit only you could possibly pull off.

As much as Megumi would love to just admire you and enjoy the amazing atmosphere, he has other things currently occupying his head. At first glance, you might’ve thought that he was flustered by your choice of outfit for the night if you didn’t know any better. This is, of course, one of the reasons why Megumi was a bit dazed but sadly that’s not the only reason why.

You didn’t really connect the dots right away. There are a bunch of little crumbs and pieces that could’ve contributed to Megumi’s flustered and jumpy attitude in this particular evening but nothing defining.

The evening progressed and more telltale signs showed themselves to you. You could honestly write a meter-long list but to keep it concise, the things you have noticed include Megumi’s inability to look you directly in the eye, the rather incessant twiddling of his thumbs, the stutter that accompanied his usually leveled voice, and finally (and the most telling) is his avoidance of the word “love”.

Of course, it could all be a coincidence but you think not. Although you didn’t do much to garner his “suspicion”, you’re not daft nor were you ignorant. You knew of his struggles in dropping a particular “L” word. You had honestly known for a while. It’s not that you were a psychic or anything of that sort, it was actually because Megumi had not been the most secretive of his plans. You suppose he intended for it to be a “hush-hush” plan but unfortunately for Megumi, he had a tendency to think out loud when stressed.

Though you were originally planning to let Megumi off the hook and let him figure things out on his own, you decided that leaving him to wallow on his own is doing more harm than good. So when Megumi choked rather aggressively at his pasta when you said the word “love”, you chose to bring up the topic.

“So, when are you gonna tell me what’s been cooking up in that head of yours… hmm?”

Megumi’s eyes widened at the question you’ve just asked, though it seems more like a prompt than a question. Megumi looked down to his lap for a second before facing you again, this time sporting an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

Megumi struggled to confess before letting out a defeated sigh and a small apology. This caused you to shake your head, not in a dismissive way but in a way to tell him that there’s nothing to be sorry for.

“Megumi, I know you know I know so I’ll just say it outright,” you huffed before continuing, “I love you’s aren’t something you can or should force out. I’ve said it to you on countless accounts because it comes naturally to me, love. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel cornered into saying it but please know that I don’t mind you taking your time, ok?”

Your little speech was met with a relieved sigh and soon followed by a laugh. You look up to see Megumi’s genuine grin in place, you can’t help but smile at the endearing sight.

“Ahh, I should’ve known not to stress over these kinds of things when it’s with you, huh? Thanks. I’ll definitely take my time with it.”

You nodded in agreement at his newfound determination. As much as you wanted to hear those three words tumble out of his lips and uttered to you, you knew better than to rush him into it. And besides, hearing it in full sincerity will definitely be better than hearing a rushed one. With all that said, you and Megumi enjoyed the rest of the evening with wine glasses raised and the air filled with happy chatters and laughs.

And I thought it was difficult, huh?

A streak of light shone through the gaps in the curtains, making it known to you that it is time to get up already. Or, at least, it would be time to get up had it been a weekday. Thankfully, however, it is the weekend so you can take your time in getting up. While your boyfriend slept soundly beside you, his hand draped loosely over your figure, you can’t help but admire his features. As you did so, thoughts on what happened a while back popped into your head.

It’s been a few months since your last dinner date with Megumi and things have calmed down quite a bit. Although Megumi still feels a twinge of guilt from his lack of response whenever you whisper an “I love you”, he does remember your take on this situation, and those few words you spared have done immense work in calming him down.

As you continue to reminisce on the events that have transpired in the last few months, you failed to notice Megumi stirring awake beside you. You only notice that he’s awake when he’s poking your cheek, asking, no, demanding petulantly for his morning kisses.

Deciding to tease him a bit while he’s still in his morning daze, you uttered, “Sorry, love. Morning breath.” You went as far as sniffing at his general direction and fanning your hands over your nose and scrunched your nose up in fake disgust.

Still in a sleepy stupor, Megumi pouts at you and goes to get out of bed. You decide to let your curiosity win and end up following your boyfriend to the bathroom, the cold linoleum tiles doing wonders in waking the two of you up immediately.

Though he is now much more awake now than a few minutes ago, it didn’t dampen his pout one bit. With the handle of his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, Megumi babbled on about how his day is now ruined because you wouldn’t let him start it off with a kiss. You only giggled in response, your own toothbrush poking out of your lips.

Being the menace that you are, you decided to playfully smear Megumi’s face with some toothpaste foam. One thing led to another and soon you two are on the bathroom floor laughing aloud. Somehow his laugh and expressions egged yours on and yours did his which caused a new bout of laughter to erupt every time you’d both fall silent. It went on like this for quite some time but neither of you minded it one bit.

Now that the laughter has died down a bit, you both exchanged mini banters here and there, still seated on the floor with both your shoulders touching; with toothpaste in your hair and on his cheek. As you giggled at a particular joke Megumi muttered, he felt that odd feeling in his heart again, just like the time in the park and all those other dates he stressed over but this time, before he could stop it, he whispered…

“I love you.”

Your laughter immediately ceased only to be replaced by the happiest grin you’ve ever mustered. With new buzzing energy coursing through you, you tackled Megumi into a hug which effectively knocked the two of you down to the ground but neither you nor Megumi minded.

With his newfound confidence, Megumi repeated the foreign sentence over and over again as if he’s testing it out. He finds that he likes saying it.

He likes it because your smile widens a bit more when he says it.

He likes it because you’d give him kisses whenever he says it.

And he absolutely loves it because you’d always say it back to him.

With a wobbly and lovesick grin, Megumi says it one more time for good measure.

“I love you.”

a.n. I did not really proofread this bcs I had classes today and it KO'd me :"(

Hope you liked it!

#cattlemon's writing #Megumi x reader #Megumi Fushiguro x reader #Megumi fluff #Megumi Fushiguro fluff #Megumi x you #Megumi Fushiguro x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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httpknjoon · 1 year

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(re)starting over again | kth; 10.5

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 3.5k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | more angst haha I swear rainbows and sunshine are coming soon. icymi, I made a spotify playlist for this series! it gets updated every time I write for mc and taehyung. expect it to be angsty haha! anyways, enjoy reading this one. let me know y'all's thoughts.

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Are you sure about this?”

Gail, your supervisor, looked at you while holding the paper you gave her just minutes ago. Your heart beats heavier and louder as you stood in front of her. Gail was never a terrifying supervisor to you. She was always considerate. But this thing that you’re doing right now is still nail-biting. You came to work early today just so you can talk to her. No one knew about your plan except you.

“Yes,” you replied, unconsciously fiddling with the fabric of your scrub pants.

She stared at you for what felt like a minute. You cannot even read what’s going on in her head. Her eyes wore no emotions and her lips formed a thin line. She moved her sight to the paper again. You felt like you needed to say something.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry if it seemed too soon.”

“Oh, it’s fine. We all know two weeks is the minimum time for notices like this.” Finally, her lips broke into a small smile, easing you for a little, as she looks at you again. “May I ask your reason for making this decision?”

You didn’t hesitate on telling your true reason, “I need to take a break and a new environment due to recent circumstances.”

That was two days ago. Gail approved your resignation letter after that exchange and was supportive of your decision. She said you can come to her anytime if you need a recommendation letter for your next employer. Your two-week notice began that same day without anyone– even Jisoo or Julia– knowing. You don’t want to disturb Jisoo because she’s already stressed enough with her wedding.

“You coming home?” Julia asked as you two get your bags on your lockers.

You two just finished your graveyard shift at seven o clock. You just had a twelve-hour shift but you’re still off to somewhere.

You shook your head, “Not yet. I’m taking a train to Incheon.”

Her head tilted in your direction, “What? Why? That’s like an hour's ride from here.”

“I’ll be checking this studio apartment unit I saw online,” you answered like it’s not a big deal.

Her eyes widened almost instantly, “You’re moving?!”

You quietly nod your head to her surprised question. A hint of excitement was also obvious in her tone.

“That’s far! Have you told Jisoo yet?”

“Nope.”

“How about Taehyung? Is he going to travel from there to his shop every day? And the house–”

“I still haven’t talked to him about it.” you cut her off calmly before she can ask anything else.

Julia was quick to understand what you meant. Your lips formed into a small, sad smile after saying that. Julia just waved her hand back when you waved yours as you bid goodbye. She instantly knew that moving to a new place isn’t the only life-changing choice you’re making in your life right now.

It was a couple of days before Jisoo and Namjoon’s special day, exactly three days in your two-week notice. Raindrops just happened to visit every night you have a late night shift. You didn’t notice the weather until you heard the roars of thunder while you were in the shower.

You were busy the whole day in your room. Just cleaning up, feeling like a robot, numbly working so much but eating less. You only had a late breakfast. Taehyung made you buttermilk waffles with fruits, leaving it in a Tupperware on your kitchen counter. You ate and made sure to leave no dishes in the sink. Like a ghost, that’s how you liked to describe your recent presence in your shared home.

You find yourself busy since morning, removing photos in the frames you displayed before and folding some of your clothes from your closet to your luggage. Then, you prepared for your eight-hour shift. Just five minutes past ten in the evening, you walked out of your room ready to go.

“Hey.”

You saw Taehyung sitting on one of the chairs on your kitchen counter. A thin sheet of smoke from the cup on the table showed he was drinking tea.

“Hi.” you greeted him shortly.

The shorter your response is, the smaller the chances of small talk, you thought.

“I packed you some light snacks there. Just some granola and fruits. Also, yogurt.”

You want to feel something. The joy and giddiness you always have when Taehyung does nice things for you, pre and post-accident. Something that will make your day and shifts your mood. But you almost felt nothing now.

“It’s raining hard tonight,” he mumbled, looking outside the small window in your kitchen.

“It is.”

You tried to busy yourself with putting the snacks he prepared in your bag, not even looking up at him. Not until he said,

“Can I walk you to the stop?”

Finally, you looked at him. He cannot assume if you’re surprised based on your expression because your face remained blank. No emotions at all.

He continued, ”I just want to make sure you’ll get to work safely.”

“Okay.” Whatever you say.

“You know, you don’t have to do any of this.” You were just looking ahead as you resumed, “You’re not obligated to do anything with me.”

“I wanted to do this.” He replied.

You knew he was looking in your direction through your peripheral vision. As much as you wanted to believe his sincerity, you don’t want to get your hopes high. He was just being nice. That’s it.

Before you go, he handed you another extra umbrella. No one said a single word. You sat away from the windows, just at the back of the bus. Because you knew damn well that you might feel guilty if you see Taehyung frozen on the same spot, waiting for your bus to leave.

“Wake her up. I’ll take out our stuff.”

Jimin unfastened his seatbelt after parking the car. Taehyung turned his head back to your direction. You have been sleeping throughout the whole night and none of them bothered to wake you up when they had a quick stopover since they knew you came from an overnight shift earlier. He got off his seat, gently closing the passenger door.

“YN….” he softly calls for your name.

It took him two more calls before you hummed and moved on to your seat. Your eyes were still closed as you respond to him, still half-asleep,

“What?”

“We’re here…”

Slowly, your eyes opened. You blink a couple times before rubbing your eyes as you sat back properly. Slightly confused, you looked around. He watched as you slowly get back to your senses and realize that you have arrive at the event venue.

“Oh…” you said under your breath. You ran your hand on your dress to smoothen out the tiny wrinkles. Unexpectedly, you turned to Taehyung, “How do I look? Did my hair–”

“Lovely,” he murmured.

For a moment there, you thought you heard a small beat inside your chest. You stare at each other’s eyes and the first thing you sense was familiarity. Then, longing. Then, abruptly, you looked away. Taehyung wasn’t sure if your eyes began glistening before you blinked away. He was about to ask when Jimin spoke outside the car,

“Is she awake? Let’s go. The rehearsal is starting soon, we still have to get these bags in the hotel.”

Thank God, you found a slight relief. Taehyung moved out of your way to let you get out of the car. Minutes later, you, Taehyung, and Jimin are walking to the entrance of the hotel when someone greeted you.

“Oh, my god. Hi!”

Yoonji, Jisoo’s cousin and also one of the bridesmaids, greeted you on your way into the small hotel meant for guests. He recognized her as one of the girls who brought you home after Jisoo’s bachelorette party. You two hugged for a quick second while she smiled politely at Taehyung and Jimin, who introduced himself.

“You can just go tell the receptionist your names. Then, they will say what’s your room number,” she instructed in a little hurry. “The rehearsal will be starting in a few minutes!”

She was pulled by another woman, who you assume is Jisoo’s other relative. You followed what she said and the receptionist was pleasant when she asked for your names. After that, she handed out two keys.

“Room 23 is for Mr. Park. Room 27 is for Ms. YN and Mr. Kim.” Kath, the said receptionist, said.

Your jaw almost dropped while Taehyung froze. Jimin, who stood between you two, immediately noticed your silent reactions. He took the initiative to ask,

“Uhm… May we request another room?”

Kath shook her head, “I’m sorry, sir. But the Kims were the ones who arranged everyone’s rooms.”

You cleared your throat as your brain began processing again, “But do you guys have other available rooms that we can pay for?”

“We’re currently fully booked, miss. We assume the Kims already booked enough rooms for their relatives and other important guests. So we had our further rooms booked for other visiting guests in town.”

After squeezing your eyes shut while listening to her explanation, you just forced a smile, “Okay, we understand. Thank you.”

Your rooms were on the upper floor and there were only stairs. Taehyung offered to carry your small luggage for you but you declined. Both men could not tell if you were pissed as you kept a straight face until you and Taehyung stood in front of the twenty-seventh room. He unlocked the door for you two.

“Hm.”

You unconsciously let out a heavy sigh as you and Taehyung scanned the whole room with your eyes. The room was not that… spacious. But it has what a guest needs. A king-sized bed, closet, own bathroom, a table and a chair, and flat-screen television mounted on the wall for entertainment. Plus, a big window with big curtains.

“You know, maybe I can just go to Jimin’s,” Taehyung, who’s standing behind you, suggested.

But you looked at him, “Do you want to?”

“What?” he blinked, maybe he misheard it.

“Do you want to go there? I mean, this is a king-sized bed. I’m fine sharing it, less hassle. We can put a divider or something.” you recommended, pointing to the bed.

“Are you okay with that?”

You nod, “Yeah. Are you?”

“Okay.” Taehyungs nods too.

“Okay,” you whispered.

It was silent again after that. The atmosphere was weird and maybe suffocating. You are starting to hate this kind of air every time you’re with him. It’s encouraging the decisions you’ve been thinking about lately. Breaking the ice, you looked up at him.

“Uhm, we should go. The rehearsal’s starting soon.”

“Thank you for helping make tomorrow the perfect day for us.”

The wedding rehearsals earlier were quick as it was not that complicated. Everyone was later invited to the rehearsal dinner. Your seats were pre-arranged. So of course, you two sat next to each other.

Jisoo was in the middle of her dinner toast when Taehyung took a glance at you. Your sights were focused on the couple who stood in the middle of the event. Your lips formed into a relieved smile as your eyes brighten.

"Tonight, we appreciate you, the people we treasure the most. We toast to having the best wedding team ever!"

Everyone raised their glasses of wine and champagne and took a sip from their drinks. Then, everyone began talking to someone while enjoying the rest of the dinner. Everyone around you and Taehyung is having fun conversations. Even Jimin, who is now talking to some guests. After stealing another glance in your direction, he thought of making a conversation with you.

“I’ve never seen Namjoon that happy,” he mumbled as he looked at his friend.

Unexpectedly, you responded, looking at the couple, “So is Jisoo. Look at their smiles.”

“How did they meet?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s a really good meet-cute.” you chuckled, shoulders visibly relaxing.

Then, you began talking about the beginning of your friends’ love story. You were proud as you shared that you were present when they first met. And after days of getting blank stares and rejections from you, Taehyung can see a genuine smile on your face again. He can listen to more of your stories if that is what it takes for you two to be okay again.

The conversation plays out until you and Taehyung decided to get out of the event since guests began going too. From Jisoo and Namjoon’s meet-cute, the topic jumped to how you had a couple of double dates with them. You were enjoying telling stories that you almost forgot about that gloomy feeling you’d been having in you for days now until Taehyung asked another question while you two stroll your way back to your shared room.

“Maybe we could do that again with them?”

You turned your head at him, raising an eyebrow, “What?”

“Double dates. It seemed like we had fun with them,” he replied, hands in his pockets as he smiled softly.

Then, once again, these heavyweights slowly landed on your shoulders and you can feel something breaking inside of you, making you clutch your palm on the skirt of your dress. Taehyung quicking took notice of you pausing and looking at him with lips slightly parted and the joy in your eyes faded, worrying him.

“Hey? You okay?” he asked gently, looking at you.

With that, you snapped out of your trance and nods, “Yeah, sorry.”

God! Get ahold of yourself. You remind yourself. You remembered your things packed back at home and the resignation you signed days ago. You already had a plan and this sudden idea from Taehyung should not change any of it. Unconsciously, you let out a sigh. Taehyung’s heart beats faster.

“Did I say anything wrong?

“Oh, no.” you forced a smile as you took steps with him to the stairs. You let out an awkward chuckle, “I just don’t think we can do double dates anytime soon.”

“Ah, yeah.” he went along.

And it’s silent all over again. But this time, there was this air between you two. You both can feel that someone wants to say something to another. But, both of you two can’t. With every step closer to your room, the air gets thinner and thinner. And when you stood outside your door,

It shattered.

“Can we talk?”

“Can I talk to you?”

Both you and Taehyung said at the same time. You two were staring at each other when you said that. And when you two realized what happened, you looked away with an airy chuckle. You opened the door and he followed inside.

“So… are we going to talk here or outside?” Taehyung spoke when he saw you opening the curtains, letting the fresh air get into the room.

“Uhm, here’s fine,” you replied before inhaling again on the small balcony.

The original plan was to let Taehyung know about your plans after this event. But you just can’t keep it anymore. Especially after you reacted with Taehyung offering ideas like double date again. Taehyung wanted to wait too and he was willing. But he felt he needed to say what he wants now. It might help your relationship at the moment.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You sat on the soft mattress of the bed. Taehyung took a seat on the chair next to the table, just a few feet away from you. He watched as you bit your lip, looking down. You fiddled with your fingers and he can see your chest heave. You were visibly nervous and it makes him wonder what are going to say.

“YN–”

“Can–”

He nods at you to continue and you did, “I was just going to ask if I can go first.”

“Sure,” he answered, leaning back in the chair.

“Okay. Thank you,” you said every word with the heaviest sigh since you find your heart pounding like crazy just now.

With all the will in your body, you focused your sight on the man in front of you. His hair was pushed back and the first two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned. His eyes gaze back at yours, you wished you can just communicate with him through this since it might be easier. But you can’t. And within seconds, you can feel the tears at the edge of your blurring sight.

“Taehyung…I… Uhm…” you stuttered when you see a flicker of concern in his eyes. But you continued, “I’m leaving.”

He just stared after you said that. Then, you read the confusion on his face, “What?”

You gulped, “I’m leaving this… arrangement … or whatever this is called. Us. I’m leaving us.”

Your hands shake while waiting for a reaction from him when you said that. But you cannot read his face anymore so you went on.

“I’m moving out of the house. I already looked for an apartment. I know, the house is our shared property. We can talk about the whole splitting thing when I–”

“Are we breaking up?” Taehyung finally said something. His eyebrows were scrunched and his eyes were surprised. But his tone was in between shock and sadness. And maybe mad. You cannot tell.

“Is there even any relationship to break?”

That was the first thing that came into your mind and you barely thought about it as you said it. You matched his tone. Now, it feels like you two were overwhelmed with emotions and the silence that followed after your question helped to at least make you calm a little.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is not off his peak of emotions. But he was quiet. He doesn’t know what to feel. He cannot tell what he’s been feeling. Even after what happened these past few days, he didn’t expect to hear this from you.

“You don’t know me, Taehyung. I’m basically a stranger to you and I’m more than grateful to you for at least letting me take care of you after the accident. But it’s not your obligation to be with me just because I was your girlfriend. The last thing that I want is to force you to stay committed–”

You were ready to end the conversation just like that. But Taehyung cut you off,

“What if I want to? What if I want to be with you now?”

“What?”

You didn’t sound happy. Because you’re not. Taehyung sensed it, you felt quite the opposite when he said that. Still, you stumbled with words.

“Wh– No! N-No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he said like you were challenging him to say it.

You remained unhappy and let out a firm, “No.”

“I do. Why do you keep–”

“Because that would just make me feel shit! You only want me now because you learned what happened between you and Lily!”

Taehyung’s mouth immediately ran dry. For the first time ever since the accident, you raised your voice at him. It’s like watching a volcano explode. Warm drops of tears flow down your cheeks. Your lips were quivering as you continued. Your shoulder shakes as you continued,

“You can’t just choose me like that! That’s fucking unfair! I– I’ve been feeling nothing but awful and lonely for the longest time. I can’t even sleep without having a nightmare about that night! And now that I’m trying to do something for myself, you’re telling me you want to be with me? Right after talking to your ex behind my back? The ex that you originally remembered as your girlfriend? Taehyung, that’s just so fucking unfair.”

You remained seated on the bed but your hand was clutching on the sheet under you. Your voice became weaker as you reached the last sentence. Wiping your tears, you cleared your throat,

“If you want me now, that would make me feel like someone you just kept around as a second choice. You know?”

Hearing that, Taehyung instinctively shakes his head, “No, it’s not like that–”

“But that’s how I feel right now,” you confessed in a sad whisper. “And I’m scared that the longer I try to keep this relationship, the higher the chance I’ll lose myself in the process.”

That was another confession. After countless talks and reflection with yourself and your close friends, you knew that sooner or later you have to go for your own. It just took you long to accept it and take a step. You were hopeful then.

It took some minutes for someone to say something again. There was like a big question in the room with you, asking, what’s next. Taehyung who remained speechless in the same chair, just watched you quietly. While you got up from the bed and reached for your phone and room keys.

“Five years was a lot to be missed and forgotten, Taehyung. I just think that if we go on our separate ways, you can focus on exploring what you lost without the pressure of being committed to me. And I can try to focus on myself again.”

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#bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung series #bts amnesia #taehyung amnesia #bts established relationship au #taehyung established relationship #restarting over again kth

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year

Note

hi! i love your writing and i was wondering if i could request something with dalton having a cute moment with his significant other? maybe he’s been stressed and overworking himself on a painting so she suggests a break. maybe he sits in front of her between her legs and just let her brush and style his hair? pamper him and give him time not to worry about anything? just something sweet and domestic like that!

Hi! Thank you!! I love this idea so so much; it is one of the cutest requests I have received and I had a ton of fun writing this!!! I hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoy it. As always, let me know what you think! :)

Warnings: established relationship, Dalton is stressed at the beginning and then it's just an abundance of fluff. 1.6k+ words

Lay Here With Me

The paintbrush taps the desk repeatedly as Dalton chews his lip in thought.

“The shading is all wrong,” he mumbles, dropping his paintbrush.

Huffing, Dalton brings his elbows onto the table and lays his forehead in his hands. The desk moves as his leg bounces, his eyes tracking over the canvas but never stopping.

“’Paint the emotions of a memory.’ What does that even mean?” Dalton grumbles.

Dropping his head, Dalton clenches his fists several times before retrieving his paintbrush again. Dalton has been sitting at his desk since he returned from class several hours ago, growing more stressed with each brushstroke. The painting is due at the end of the week, and he has no idea what he wants to do or how to communicate a memory through painted emotions. Life outside his dorm and away from this painting seems nonexistent as Dalton reaches for the black paint to cover up his latest mistake.

✧✧✧✧✧

“You’ve reached Dalton, leave a message.”

You pull your phone away from your ear, frowning as you see that was the twenty-first unanswered call in the last four days. Dalton got a new assignment for his art class and seems to be putting every second of his time and attention into it. The last time you saw him was on the sidewalk outside the art building yesterday when he told you he couldn’t make it to trivia night with you and Chris because he was falling behind on the project.

To an outsider, it may look like you’re clingy and desperate to spend time with him, but the truth is that you’re worried about him and how stressed he seems. Chris also tried to contact him, even invited him to a party, but he turned her down with the same excuse he gave you.

Turning off your phone, you look around your room. Your eyes catch on the face masks and new hairbrush you bought a few days ago. Smiling, you stand to begin working on your master plan.

✧✧✧✧✧

Dalton rubs his eyes, attempting to ignore the burning sensation that signals he’s been staring at the canvas for far too long. Dalton doesn’t know what time it is, how long he’s been here, when he ate last, or anything else that matters, only that the painting still doesn’t look like he wants it to. Blinking harshly, Dalton reaches for his phone to look up the exact paint color he wants, not seeing the number of missed calls and text messages. He jumps and drops his phone when someone knocks on his door. Hoping they’ll go away, Dalton runs a finger over the dry paint and tries to imagine what the finished project will look like. He realizes he is too tired to continue working but doesn’t care.

“Dalton?” you ask, voice unmistakable.

Standing quickly, Dalton groans as his joints pop and his muscles have a distant ache. Opening the door, he smiles tiredly at you as you walk past. You set your bags down on his extra bed and turn to face him. He’s back at his desk and leaning over his painting again.

“Dalton? When’s the last time you took a break?” you ask, running a gentle hand over his shoulder blades.

“Don’t have time,” he answers quietly.

“You have to take a break; you’re going to get sick if you overwork yourself.” You speak gently, trying to help him without treating him like he can’t take care of himself. “I care about you, Dalton, and I can tell that you’re tired.”

“I can’t get it right.”

“You’ll figure it out. Stepping away for a little bit might even give you some ideas.”

“What if I don’t finish it? Professor Armagan said that we have to paint the emotions of a memory, but all of my memories are… I don’t know, they’re ugly and I can’t paint them!” Dalton snaps, not at you but at the situation.

You put your hand on his shoulder and move to stand between him and the painting. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes wild until they meet yours. Smiling at him, you hope to put him at ease.

“I get it, Dalton. But trying to work on it like this is just going to make it worse. I know you know that. So, I brought you some stuff to help de-stress and take a well-earned break. Everything is in those bags if you’d rather I leave and let you rest alone.”

Dalton’s hands raise to hold your waist as he shakes his head. “Can you stay? You’re right, and I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Dalton steps closer to you, laying his head on your shoulder as you rub your hand up and down his back. His breathing has slowed, and his shoulders slowly fall as his tension eases.

“Of course, I’ll stay. First, change out of those clothes and get comfortable. I brought food if you’re hungry, but I also have snacks if you prefer.”

Dalton nods and walks to his dresser to change as you turn away, pulling things out of bags and sorting them.

“What’d you bring?” Dalton asks as he returns to your sides, wearing sweats and his favorite hoodie.

You hold up a to-go bag from his favorite restaurant and smile as his eyes widen. He takes the food and gestures for you to join him on his bed. Dalton asks you about your day as you eat together, ignoring your protests that he could do anything else.

“I’ve been ignoring you for days because of that stupid painting. Tell me everything I missed,” Dalton insists.

When you finish eating, you throw away the trash and plug in your projector, turning on Dalton’s favorite TV show. He is still sitting on his bed, but his eyes are starting to close, and he isn’t making as many sarcastic comments as usual. He sits in the middle of his bed, with room behind him, so you grab your hairbrush and some elastic hair bands from your bag as you return.

Slipping in behind him, Dalton sighs as he leans back against your legs, content and comfortable. You brush his hair slowly, removing all of the tangles caused by his hand repeatedly raking through it due to stress. When deemed sufficiently detangled, you part his hair into several sections and begin braiding, smiling as he lets his eyes fall closed, more interested in your hands in his hair than the show playing. You feel the last of the tension melt from his shoulders as he lets his weight fall against your legs, supporting him in every way. As you secure the braids, Dalton opens his eyes again.

“Do you want to do a face mask? I bought a few new ones, and they say they’re good for easing tension and promoting relaxation because they have tea infused into them,” you ask, rubbing his shoulders as you speak.

“Sure,” he murmurs.

You lean over and grab the packages off his nightstand, ignoring his whines at your sudden movement. His head is still in your lap, giving you perfect access to apply the mask.

“Do I have to get up to wash this off?” Dalton asks.

“Nope, this is a sheet mask, so you just take it off and rub the excess product into your skin,” you answer. “I have strawberry, pineapple, aloe vera, watermelon, tea tree, lavender, ginger, and some unscented ones. Which one do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

You think for a second, then pick the one you think he will like best, opening it and pulling the mask out.

“This is cold,” you warn as you prepare to put it on.

You place the bottom at his jawline and smooth it upwards. You take special care around his eyes, ensuring nothing gets in them. Once it's secure, you start a timer and put your mask on. Dalton looks up at you and smiles.

“Don’t mess up your mask,” you demand playfully.

“Then stop looking so pretty,” Dalton counters.

You roll your eyes and rub your hands over his shoulder again, glad to feel his muscles give way under your touch, no longer carrying his stress. Moving upward, you fix his hair where a few pieces were disturbed by your movements. As the timer goes off, you remove your mask quickly before beginning Dalton’s with much more care.

Tossing it into his trash can, you begin to rub small circles on his face and neck, making sure the product soaks in well and hoping it will continue relaxing him throughout the rest of the night.

“Can I rub yours in?” Dalton asks as you finish.

You nod, and Dalton sits up, facing you as he begins copying your method of small circles. His tongue pokes out in concentration, and you smile because you feel like a canvas at the hands of your favorite artist.

“Why the smile?” Dalton asks, poking your cheek as he finishes.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” you answer quietly.

Dalton reaches over your shoulder and turns the projector off before pushing you to lie on his pillow. He lays down beside you with his head on your chest.

“Thank you for helping me relax. I don’t know why I let myself get so stressed and overworked,” Dalton says into the darkness before kissing your neck.

“Of course. I’m always here for you, Dalton, even if you just need someone to sit with you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. And I think your emotions need more yellow, if it’s the moment I think it is.”

Dalton never responds; your heartbeat, voice, and hand rubbing his back already put him to sleep. Dalton never sleeps more restfully than with you, and he knows exactly what color his emotions are with you.

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert #insidious #insidious the red door #insidious 5 #requests #fem!reader

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tiredcowpoke · 2 years

Text

TITLE: Reunion [18+] PAIRING: (pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After Arthur disappears for a week after a close call on a job, you can’t help but worry about him. However, upon his return, your reunion develops into something you weren’t expecting. WARNINGS: GRAPHIC SMUT. Do not interact if you are a minor. Some mild angst. NOTE: I didn’t expect to return to writing in this fandom with this in mind, per say, but it just kind of happened. lol Regardless, please enjoy!

You were worried sick, to put it lightly.

This wasn’t exactly unusual–you knew better than anybody what risks came with riding with the gang. Yet, you couldn’t help but worry about the people you had grown close to. Arthur was especially someone you kept in your thoughts pretty often, and given the more intimate developments in your relationship with the gruff outlaw, his wellbeing was a recurring worry for you. The first night after the rest of the group that went out on the job returned without him, you were naturally worried, but tried to brush it off for the time being. Arthur had spent more than a couple days away from camp at points.

Yet, with how the details of the job sounded more and more like a close call, his absence weighed on you more than it would’ve otherwise.

A night turned into two, then almost four, before your concern was keeping you up at night. You tried to talk to Dutch about it, but he dismissed it. In a way that he likely hoped didn’t come across that way, but it did in your eyes. Arthur had disappeared in the past–usually no longer than a week before someone was sent out to go find him, but in this situation? This wasn’t just some time away from camp. With the exhaustion, stress, and worry that was sitting on your mind, Grimshaw breathing down your neck about picking up your slack had you feeling all the closer to snapping.

Considering how long you had known the woman and her temperament, you didn’t want to get to that point with her. Not unless you wanted to get on her really bad side.

So, leaving camp seemed like the best choice at the time.

You had definitely toyed with the idea of going out to search for Arthur yourself, yet you were at a loss as to where to begin. Plus, with how fresh this job was, you didn’t want to put more people in danger by digging around places that you really shouldn’t be. You had to remind yourself that Arthur was strong, he could take care of himself and had done so in the past. You losing sleep over him being gone won’t change that.

On the other hand, you didn’t want to dismiss the idea of him being in danger completely. Not when it could be a disastrous choice. Still, you knew you weren’t really thinking clearly–Arthur was the backbone to a number of things around camp, they wouldn’t just let him disappear.

Still, as much as you wanted to believe that if they weren’t worried, you shouldn’t be too, and yet you couldn’t.

You just knew that you didn’t have a path to start on that would be helpful, and with your nerves like they were, you wouldn’t be of much help either if something had really happened. Settling into a room at the nearest hotel in a town nearby helped put some of the pressure off, but it didn’t really stop the nervous restlessness and those thoughts from circling when you tried to sleep. In reality, you hadn’t really been gone from camp for more than a night or two, but in your mind it felt like ages. While you had managed to eventually sleep a full night, exhaustion winning out in the end, the short amount of days kind of blurred together.

So, as dramatic as it was, when he showed up at your room on the third night, you weren’t sure how to react.

Relief settled upon seeing him, alive and well, yet a part of you also wanted to be angry about the stress his disappearance caused. It had been a week.

“They told me you was worried,” Arthur said, pulling you out of your head, “Didn’t mean to do that, but you know how things can be.”

“I was scared, you…” you started before trailing off as your voice faltered somewhat before letting out a small huff. “You bastard.”

“Never claimed to not be one,” Arthur replied, stepping forward once you moved around him to close the door behind him.

Regardless of the quick exchange, he accepted you wrapping your arms around him. Arthur returned the embrace, placing a hand on the back of your head as you buried your face into his jacket. He smelled like horses and dirt–like he had been traveling, though you could smell some soap on him that suggested that he had bathed recently. You felt a small pit of embarrassment settle in you at the realization–if he had time to clean himself, he clearly hadn’t been as worse off as you had been fearing. A part of you that was born out of that feeling wanted to apologize for worrying, that you felt silly about it, and yet everything that still scared you.

While your relationship with him was relatively laid back, not making too much of a big show of it in camp, you couldn’t help but feel that part of you that was harbouring feelings for him. If anything, it only grew bigger, and in moments like this you could certainly feel it.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he muttered into your ear, resting his cheek against the side of your head, “I got pinned by some law, then bounty hunters–it’s a big mess, but I’m fine. We’ll be fine. So…don’t need to worry no more.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don’t think I can stop worrying about you,” you muttered into his embrace–while you had meant the words to be teasing, they came out more like an admission as you let out a small sigh.

“Then I guess it’s too much to ask for. Still, this ain’t the first time stuff like this happened, and likely won’t be the last.”

“I know…” you replied with another sigh, slowly pulling back from the embrace.

You took in his appearance, the tiredness of his expression and the look in his eyes. Arthur’s eyes were always something you had been drawn to, a part of you almost wishing he would meet your gaze when you had first joined the camp and yet almost couldn’t handle it when he would. Now, though, you met his gaze steadily, the softening look that crossed his expression when he took in your words. He also looked relieved, which left you with the impression that maybe he had been a little more worried than he wanted to let on.

After a few moments, you reached up to cup his cheek, the growing stubble there scratching lightly along your fingers and the palm of your hand. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his. Arthur responded instantly, pressing back into the kiss as he slipped his arms around your lower back, holding you to him as you moved your hand to cup the back of his neck, fingers resting lightly in the hair at the base of his neck. He broke the kiss for a second before capturing your lips again, the kiss more firm than the light, reassuring one you had originally pulled him into.

Arthur gently started to push you backwards, which you fell into step with after a few awkward steps. You backed into a nightstand in the room, easily slipping around it as Arthur backed you against the wall. He pressed himself close, the wall at your back and his chest pressing against your own as he deepened the kiss. You somewhat clumsily reached up to find the brim of his hat that was already lifting away from his face anyway. You pulled it off his head and placed it down on the table beside you somewhat blindly before sliding a hand up into his hair, lightly gripping a handful as Arthur let out a low noise from his chest.

Finally, you parted from the kiss for some air, which only caused him to bow his head to kiss at the base of your neck where it met your shoulder. You hummed lightly in pleasure at the sensation, gripping your free hand into the back of the collar of his jacket.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you said somewhat breathlessly, tugging lightly at the collar of his jacket as a signal that you wanted to take it off.

Arthur pulled back enough to where you could work on pulling the jacket from his shoulders, his own hands moving from your hips up toward your front so he could work on undressing you as well. He pressed another lingering kiss just under your jaw as you pushed his jacket down his arms.

“Missed you so much,” he muttered, shedding the rest of his jacket, “Didn’t want to see anybody else before I saw you, but…”

“You’re here now, that’s what matters,” you returned, shouldering off the bit of clothing he managed to unbutton.

You reached out to undo the first couple buttons of his shirt, dropping your head down to press your mouth against the exposed skin near his neck and collarbone. Arthur gripped your hips, pulling you against him as you placed a hand on his shoulder and slipped your hand around his back. While you hadn’t intended to get into bed with him upon his return, it was the more dominant thought now. Given the way Arthur was holding you to him and his wandering hands, you had a feeling that he was feeling something similar.

This wasn’t the first time you had slept with him, but usually he was a little more relaxed and took his time. At the moment, as he pulled at another bit of clothing he wanted off you, it felt like he had been wanting to do this for a while. While you were more than fine with how he usually went about this, the excitement of the current moment was equally as intoxicating. Finally, you lifted your head from where you were kissing along the skin of his exposed shoulder as you unbuttoned his shirt. He shouldered that off in turn, just leaving his upper body in his union suit.

Given the heat of the area you were all staying in, you were grateful for the fewer layers. It also meant that you didn’t have a ton of clothing on you either, which became apparent as you felt him push down the last of your outerwear. Wanting to even the score, you reached down to start unbuckling his pants. You could see and feel the starts of a prominent bulge, working on opening the front of his pants.

However, Arthur interrupted that by seeking out your mouth again. He cupped the back of your head with his hand, the kiss hard and you easily welcomed his tongue as you grazed your own against his. Admittedly, you were a little dizzy, your heart pounding hard in your chest but you were craving his hands on you.

Thankfully, you got your wish as you felt him move his hands from your hips to slip under the edge of your chamise. His skin was warm and rough, the feeling pulling a small inhale from you as he slowly slid them up. While his touch was familiar, it still sent little shivers over your body and in that moment you realized just how much you had been missing him in this aspect too. Always too busy, always too many people around, there was always a reason why you should leave it for another time.

You trailed your hand along the waist of his open pants, Arthur once again interrupting that as he pulled back from the kiss with a small inhale. You felt him stop his hands just under your breasts, a small surge of frustration cropping up in you but you didn’t voice that just yet.

“You want me to…?” he asked, part genuine question and yet you could catch a touch of amusement at what was likely the barely held back frustration in your gaze.

“Yes. Please,” you replied almost instantly, “I want to touch you so badly too.”

“I want that too, sweetheart,” he said in an almost breathy mutter as he pressed his mouth against yours again.

You pressed back into the kiss with a light moan, though you took in a breath when you felt him cup your breasts with his hands. Arthur moaned against your lips, pressing a little closer as you arched against his touch, pressing your shoulders back against the wall again. He squeezed and fondled them as you moaned lightly into the kiss, followed by another short, pleasured sound as he rolled your nipples between his fingers.

Once you managed to find your thoughts again, you finally dropped your hand into his pants to palm at his hard cock through the fabric of his union suit. That action pulled another groan from him, Arthur breaking the kiss as you rubbed him with a firmer press as he lifted his hips against your hand. He moaned aloud at that, the sound only arousing you further. You could feel him squeezing your chest a little harder as his attention moved toward what you were doing to his cock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up, Mr. Morgan,” you observed, teasing but it was hard to hide the arousal that mingled in your tone.

“I dunno, I…” he started, trailing off as you rubbed at him with another firm stroke, “Shit.”

“After the amount of stress you put me through this week…” you started, palming at his hard cock again as Arthur groaned, rolling his hips into your touch again. An idea was forming in your mind. “Well. Maybe we should get in bed.”

You were purposefully slow in removing your hand from his pants, as he was to finally drop his hands out of your chamise and work on removing the last of his clothing. Following suit, you both were finally nude as you climbed up onto the bed but didn’t lay down.

“Here, lay down,” you said, clearing some of the blanket away for him, “You can take my side.”

“You bossin’ me around now?” he asked, pulling a small grin from you.

Despite the question, he did what you directed. Arthur lay down on the bed on his back as you moved to sit next to him. You reached out to wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a couple strokes as Arthur dropped his head back against the pillow with a light moan. The sight was enough to almost make you want to forget the idea you had and just ride him. It wasn’t like you weren’t just as into this as he was. Yet, you had been told patience with this gave more of a reward in itself.

Considering how you had lived for a good couple years in your early adulthood, you had heard some stories and you wanted to see if it was worth the gossip at the time.

“What’re you doin’?” Arthur asked after a few moments, causing you to chuckle despite yourself.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you replied, giving his cock a few more strokes before you removed your hand. You rose up on your knees somewhat, gently grabbing one of his hands and resting it near your groin. “Help me out?”

Arthur caught on to your intention pretty quickly, moving to sit up somewhat and slip a hand against your lower back and guided you a little closer so he could push his hand between your legs. You sucked in a short, quick breath at the feeling of his fingers rubbing along your folds. You rolled against his movements a little, Arthur pressing a finger just inside so he could rub along the more sensitive parts. You moaned lightly as he brushed a finger against your clit, sending a small spark of arousal into your core.

He continued those motions for a bit, rubbing and circling as more noises started tumbling out of you freely. Eventually, Arthur pushed a single finger into you, pumping in time to your little thrusts as you gasped. Given how wet you were, he added a second finger shortly after. He cupped his hand somewhat, pushing and pumping his fingers in you as you thrust down against them. You found yourself naturally moving a little faster, craving the contact while also warning yourself that you don’t want to get too close to an orgasm if you wanted to try what you were thinking.

“You look beautiful like this,” Arthur breathed, watching as you rocked yourself against his fingers. You met his gaze, his pupils blown wide and a look of almost wanton concentration on his face.

“So do you,” you replied, knowing he was going to dismiss that but it was true in your eyes. You had always thought he was a handsome man, but in moments like this? He was intoxicating.

You let out a low sound as you could feel yourself threatening to come undone with that line of thought.

“I want to try something,” you said around a breath, stilling your movements, “I’ll need to be on top of you. You wanna play along?”

Arthur took you in for a moment as he deliberated before he nodded, looking a little confused but his curiosity seemed to win out. “Sure.”

With that, you had him pull his fingers out of you so you could get in his lap. Sinking down on him was eased by the work his fingers had done, but there was still that bit of an uncomfortable stretch as you took him all in. Arthur gripped your hips, letting out a couple moans and curses as you did so. He rolled his hips somewhat, which caused you to gasp a little but otherwise it wasn’t too overwhelming at the moment. You rested your hands on his chest, meeting his gaze as you lifted your hips a little experimentally before stilling again.

“For this, you can touch me but you can’t touch yourself,” you said, shifting back to a better position.

“Whatever y’want, darlin’,” Arthur replied with a nod.

Finally, you started to move, which honestly felt like you both were almost begging for it at this point.

You found an easy pace at first, enjoying the way his cock filled you and pressed against your walls. Arthur moved his hips, a pace you tried to match as he guided you somewhat with his hands on your hips. It wasn’t too long until you were riding him in a way that was really pulling you closer to that edge, moans and whimpers falling from your lips as he thrusted up into you. You could feel yourself getting dangerously close but not enough to actually come, so you pulled yourself off Arthur’s cock.

The sudden absence was a little uncomfortable for you, feeling you twitch and flutter around nothing. However, the groan Arthur let out told you that perhaps you were doing this correctly after all. He reached out toward you, some concern touching his expression.

“What happened? You alright?” he asked, making you smile and lean in to kiss him.

“I’m fine,” you replied once you pulled back.

You reached out and started to stroke his cock. It was slick with your fluids, which actually aided you a bit with the lighter touches that you intended. You didn’t stroke the full length of him, just touching him enough to where it would get a reaction. Arthur moaned, rolling his hips against your hand, but you released your fingers somewhat before he settled again. After almost a minute of this, he let out an almost pained groan.

“Is this that thing you wanted to try?” he asked, somewhat breathless.

“Yeah,” you replied simply, keeping up your purposeful movements as you glanced back toward him with a small, teasing smile, “I want to even things out. You kept me on the edge of panic all week, so…”

It took him a moment to clue into what you were doing, but when you noticed his breathing was getting less erratic you figured he would have pieced it together soon anyway.

“You ain’t…” he started, tilting his head to meet your gaze, “I don’t think you’re gonna hold out.”

“No?” you asked, removing your hand, “I feel fine and I think the evening’s still young. We have all night, too.”

You shifted so you were straddling his lap again, aligning yourself over his cock before sinking down again slowly. The sensation pulled those sparks through you again, the sudden stop not being the most comfortable for you but it was manageable. Arthur, however, groaned deeply as he lay his head back, lifting his hips against you again as you moved with them like you had done before. You moved slowly, making sure to time your little thrusts when he tried to move at the speed he needed. Just enough to pleasure him, but not enough to really allow him to get to where he needed to be.

As much as a part of you just wanted to give in and just let you both get to that edge, you could admit there was something very arousing at feeling Arthur’s grip on you get tighter, his movements more demanding. You caught yourself slipping a bit when he’d hit certain parts of you, making you move a little quicker and chase the pleasure. However, you slowed as you caught yourself. You didn’t want him to get his way–not yet.

Though, in a way, you losing your grip on your discipline seemed to get more of the effect you were going for. As you locked down on him again, pressing your hips down against his, Arthur almost squirmed as he let out a loud moan.

“This ain’t like any torture I ever heard of,” he commented around a heavy breath, his hips twitching under you a little as he let out a small grunt.

“I feel that good to you?” you asked, rolling your hips again, “You like this?”

“Yes,” he replied around a pant, “I’m so–I want…”

“What?”

“I need you to move, darlin’. Please.”

With that, you lifted your hips. Arthur immediately thrust up into you, hard and kind of sloppy. Yet, it hit you just right, which had you matching that instinctually as you cried out a few times. You continued to bounce somewhat on his cock, Arthur’s moans getting more frequent and louder as you did so. You could feel yourself tightening up a little, a small twinge in your gut as a small warning. Yet, you continued to ride him, the tips of your fingernails digging into his sides somewhat as you let that wave of pleasure build up in you.

You slowed down again, feeling your walls tighten and flutter as you cried out a little at how close you were. Arthur groaned under you, loud and pure desperation as he gripped at your hip and side tightly. Despite wanting to roll your hips against him, you held yourself back. Feeling his cock twitch inside you wasn’t a help, however.

“Oh–shit. I’m achin’,” Arthur said after a moment, voice strained somewhat between some little groans and pants. “I’m so close, you gotta let me come. I get what you’re doin’. Please…”

You looked him over for a moment. The flushed complexion, his face and body covered in sweat as he breathed heavily, his eyes somewhat glazed over.

“...Okay,” you said, “I got my point across. I’m really close too.”

You picked up your pace again, letting Arthur move freely as he chased his long awaited release. You tried to press your hips down in time with his thrusts, but even your legs were tired and your movements were a little sloppy as you quickly felt that build up in you again. It didn’t take too long before your walls clenched around Arthur’s cock, the rush of your release making your back arch as you cried out. Arthur wasn’t quite done, but you could feel him moving through your orgasm as he moaned loudly and kept pounding up into you. Immediately, you were oversensitive, the sensation becoming painful as you cried out again.

Finally, Arthur spilled over that edge. He slammed his hips up against your own as he came with a shout, his knees digging up under you as he curled his legs somewhat as his back arched with the sensation. He followed that up with a few short rolls of his hips, moans and half utterances escaping him as his orgasm washed over him.

Despite the drawn out process, that reaction made it worth it. You almost wanted to grin, but you were currently trying to come back down from your own orgasm, mouth open as you tried to catch your breath.

Arthur kept his hips lifted against you for a few more moments before dropping them back down onto the bed. You immediately rolled off him, collapsing into the unoccupied side of the bed with a small grunt. Arthur was catching his breath beside you, eyes shut as he finally started to come down from what just happened.

“I…” he started after a moment, “I don’t know what to say…”

“Me too,” you replied around a soft chuckle, “You’re okay? I think I got carried away…”

“Carried away,” he muttered around a chuckle, the lighthearted nature relieving you a little, “I gotta disappear more often if this is what happens…”

“Please don’t.”

Arthur shifted, wrapping his arms around you as he settled against your side. He pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder, lingering there for a few moments as you relaxed into his hold.

“Really am sorry for makin’ you worry like you did,” he said, making you turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder somewhat.

At his expression, you rolled over so you could face him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your head into his chest as he held you tighter to him. The steady rhythm of his heart in your ear, you let out a small breath. While you couldn’t help it, you knew you worried too much. It wasn’t like you didn’t know the risks, but…

“For a while, I had thought you were gone,” you muttered, “Got shot somewhere, captured and hung or something. Yet, I know that happens. I just…I got scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Never saw myself as someone worth that fear, but…” Arthur said after a few moments, which made you look up at him from where you were curled into him. “I do my best to not let any of that happen. Can’t say it never will, but…I’m here right now. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

‘I love you’ came so quickly to the tip of your tongue that it genuinely surprised you. You could feel your stomach clench at the realization, the words so close to slipping out. Yet, you knew there would be a better time to confess that. You didn’t know if he even had similar feelings, but in quieter, more serious moments like this, it made you wonder.

It made you reach out to cup the side of his face, pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth as a replacement for saying something you might regret on impulse.

“You’re here now. That’s enough for me,” you replied once you pulled back, settling down against the pillow near his head.

“...Where the hell’d you learn that, anyway?”

You chuckled sleepily. “I think I deserve some secrets. I don’t need you getting even.”

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #my writing.

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fandomtherapy44 · 1 year

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castiel x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Dean and Sam. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Word count: 5,854

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural, the boys being mean to y/n, love spells

Chapter seven: Sex and violence

Y/n's POV

I was on my way back from getting some coffee and doughnuts for my brothers and I because there was no way that we wouldn't stop for these anyway. So, I thought I might as well get it out of the way and save some time and let my brothers sleep as much as they could considering the last few weeks. I was also wondering how Cas was doing. I haven't seen him these last few weeks. I kind of wished I had, just being around him somehow makes me be calmer and that's important with the stressful job I have. I hope he didn't get in trouble for when he hesitated to knock me out or that he's not hurt when Alastair almost pulled a uno reverse on him. I wish he could have a damn phone so I'm not worrying half of the time.

As I open the motel room door, I make sure to be extra quiet to not wake Sam and Dean. I look to the beds and see Dean in one but not Sam. Then I hear his voice from the bathroom. “Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. No storms, no bad crops, nothing.” Demon signs? Who was he talking to this early in the morning? I was sure it was not Bobby because I knew he just got done with a pretty nasty werewolf case and was properly sleeping off the beer and coffee along with exhaustion. I try to stand still to not warn Sam then I hear sheets moving and look to see Dean awake listening to the same interesting conversation. “Yeah, okay. We'll keep looking. You keep looking too, OK? All right. Talk soon.”

Sam finished and was coming out of the bathroom. I ran back to the door to make it look like I had just got back and slammed the door loud. “Hey guys I got coffee and doughnuts for us.” I said placing the drinks and food down on the table trying to sound normal. They both kind of looked at it like I had just gotten a five-star steak meal. They both come over grabbing some joe and a pastry. “Thanks Y/n/n” Dean said, stuffing his face with sprinkles falling out as a result. “Yes, thank you Y/n” Sam replied, grabbing a cup of joe and got a half of a doughnut with him being a health nut and all. “So, were you both sleeping?” I asked, trying not to seem obvious. “Dean was, I was in the can.” “Really” Dean and I both replied.

“Yeah guys, you want me to draw you a picture?” “Nah We’ll pass I think.” I said sitting on the bed trying not to think about the secret convo in the bathroom. “Found a job. Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer.” Sam said, handing us a newspaper about the story. “Oh my gosh.” “And get this. Third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em, all happily married.” “Once is sad and disturbing but three is a pattern.” I said looking at the man in the picture looking very happy with his now very dead wife. “Ahh. Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet.” Dean said, grabbing the newspaper from me. “More like The Shining.” Sam replied with a smirk. “All right, well I guess we'd better have a look.” Dean said moving to the bathroom to get ready for the day and me failing to not think about who the Hell was Sam talking to.

Currently we were sitting in the integration room with the man of the hour. He kept on ignoring eye contact like he was ashamed to look at us. “Why does the PD keep sending you guys? I already said I don't want a lawyer.” “They're lining up the firing squad.” Dean replied, staring the man in the eyes. “I'm pleading guilty.” He said back to us. “All right, look, you don't want us to represent you, that's fine. In fact it's probably not a bad idea, between you and me. We just wanna understand what happened, that's all.” “Mr. Benson. Please.” I said trying a softer approach with him. “What happened was, I killed my wife. You wanna know why? Because she made plans without asking me.” Well, there is another reason to not to date. “Now when it happened, how did you feel? Disoriented, out of control?” Sam asked. “Like something was telling you or possessed you to do it?” I said. “I knew exactly what I was doing. I was crystal clear.” He replied with no stuttering, it was chilling. “Then why'd you, do it?” Dean asked. “I don't know. I loved her. We were happy.” I brought some papers out on the table of his bank statements and tapped on them. “For a man who loved his wife you were sure spending a lot of secret money on 'M & C Entertainment'.” “I don't know what you're talking about.” Come on dude you murdered your wife the least you can do is tell the truth.

“It means you were dropping fifties on some nude entertainment.” “We just wanna know the truth, Mr. Benson.” Sam added in. “Her name was Jasmine.” Like the Disney princess? “She was a stripper?” Sam questioned. “Dude, her name was Jasmine.” Dean said matter of factly. “I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't like to go to strip bars. My buddy was having a bachelor party, and there she was. She came right up to me. And...I dunno, she was just...perfect. Everything that I wanted.” “Well, you pay enough, and anybody will be anything.” Dean said and he was not wrong. “It wasn't about the money. It wasn't even about the sex. It was...I dunno. I....I don't know what it was. It's hard to explain.” It sounds like this man was down bad for this princess. “And your wife found out?” I asked curious. “No, she never had a clue.” “Then why'd you kill her?” “For Jasmine. She said we would be together forever. If...if only Vicki was…” Dead, damn whatever this is it really wants to be the only woman. “Afterwards, me and Jasmine were supposed to meet, and she never showed. I don't know where she lives, I don't know her last name, I don't even know her real first name! I'm an idiot.” He is but this was not all his fault I have inkling that something else was at play than good sex. “And you didn't think to tell this to the cops?” Sam questioned. “What for? The stripper didn't do it, I did it. And I know what I deserve. The judge doesn't give me the death sentence, I'll just do it myself.”

Sam and I are going to go talk to the head doctor to hopefully get some answers while Dean was finding if the other men had matched with Bensen’s spending. As we walked in the office the doctor was taking some Advil. “Rough night?” Sam questioned. “Fun night. Rough morning.” She said while rubbing her forehead. “Can I help you?” She asked us and I replied. “Ahhh...yes. Um, I'm Special Agent Ross, Agent Stiles, FBI. You Doctor Cara Roberts?” “Far as I know.” “You do some work with the Sheriff's department?” Sam asked. “Yeah, when I'm not slogging it through the ER. It's a small town. We multi-task.” “We have some questions about a case. About several cases actually. Do you mind if we sit?” Sam asked for us. “Great. Adam Benson, Jim Wylie, and Steve Snyder.” I said, referring to the men. “Oh yeah, the men who killed their wives?” “You handled their work-ups, right?” She nodded her head. “Autopsies for the wives and tox screens for the perps. Two-for-one special.” “Fun right” I said, trying to add to the conversation because I sensed that the doctor and Sam were giving each other the look.

“He he I’m sorry. Did you find anything?” I asked moving away from my awkward moment. “Not really. I mean, c.o.d. on the women was pretty clear. There was nothing unusual in their systems.” That would make sense. “What about the husbands?” “Can I....see your badges again?” she asked, and we both pull them out again. She gives Sam’s a real good hard look while she barely glances at mine. “There was one thing, um, an anomaly in the blood work. And I remember thinking how strange it was that it showed up in all three of the men.” She said as she pulled out their files. “What showed?” I asked while looking at the file. “Oxytocin. And their levels were crazy high.” “Ahh. Oxytocin?” “Mm-hmm, it's a hormone that's produced during childbirth, lactation and sex.”

“People call it the love hormone. Um, you know how it feels when you first fall in love. The whole weak in the knees, tattoo you on my chest thing? That's oxytocin. Of course, it eventually fades and then you're stuck with every relationship ever. That and the painful regime of tattoo removal.” I wouldn't know but Sam would. As I looked up from the file Sam and Cara were smiling at each other with that look while they kind of forgot that I was right next to them. Then Dean entered which is good because it was getting awkward for me. “What'd I miss?” “Um Doctor this is our other partner, Agent Murdoch.” I said introducing them. Then Dean went into his Dean flirt mode. “Please, "Agent" sounds so formal. You can call me Dean.” He said holding out his hand and she took his hand and held it for like two seconds and let go. Wow I don't think I have ever seen this before. Usually, women are all over him and even sometimes get mad at me for being next to him.

“I'm Doctor Roberts.” Then she turned back to Sam. “So, um, can I help you with anything else?” “Uhh, sure, just one more thing. This chemical, this…” “Oxytocin.” “Oxytocin. What would cause those high levels that you found?” “Nothing that I've ever seen.” “OK. That's it. Thanks Doc.” As he finishes, we go to leave the office and Sam stops to tell her. “By the way...try a greasy breakfast. Best thing for a hangover.” Sammy going for it, good for him. “Watch it buddy, I'm the only M.D. here.” She replied back smiling. “Dude, you totally C-blocked me.” Dean told Sam. yeah sure Dean let's go with that.

The three of us are now going to the car. “So Whylie and Snyder totally fessed up, huh?” Sam asked Dean about the others. “One emptied his IRA, the other, his kids' college fund, all on the same day.” Now that's what I call commitment. “Nude girls?” I questioned. “A club called 'The Honey Wagon'.” Very on the nose I see. “These guys have affairs too, with a stripper also known as Jasmine?” “Yes and no. This is where it gets interesting. Each guy hooked up with a different chick.” “So, is there a secret princess stripper operation going on?” “Well, they all described their stripper in the same way, the exact same way. Perfect, and everything that they wanted.” Like build your own sex doll factory. “Yeah, at least until dream Barbie convinced them to murder their wives.” Sam said being right and a little bit funny. “You know, it's almost like they were under some kind of love spell.” “Exactly what I was thinking I mean usually girls will just take the money and be happy with that but whatever this is it wants devotion that comes from love and for them that means murdering that woman containing the man's life.” I agreed with Sam. “Sure seems that way.” Dean replied back. “Which caused them to become totally psychotic.” “Absolutely.”

As we entered the strip club, I felt I had at least a dozen pair of eyes landing on me, half of them wanting to see me up on the stage and the other half seeing if I was here to bust them for cheating. “We’re looking for three girls. Jasmine, Aurora and Ariel.” Dean said to the manager as his eyes wandered to the stage. “You seriously think those names mean anything to me?” He said almost annoyed also he was eyeing me up and down. “One's a redhead about 5'9". The other one's Asian, about…” I said getting his memory going hopefully. “You have any idea how many girls I deal with? Fake names, fake hair, fake…” He said, referring to the chest area. “You gotta have some sort of paperwork. Cheque stubs. Some way to keep track of the strippers.” Dean said to him. “Please, exotic dancers. Independent contractors working for cash. I stay out of their hair, they stay out of what little I have left.” “Sir, three of your customers murdered their wives. You don't think that that's weird? Or at least to raise a little concern.” I said to him.

“Sweetheart, I think that's super-friggin' weird. But you know what it ain't? My problem. And if it turns out one of my employees is a murderer coordinator, I’ll have a spot open. You could have it, you know, if the FBI doesn't work out. I know it's a lot of work for women.” I almost pulled out my gun right there, but I held myself back and Dean looked the same. “Agent, could you go get us some drinks? I got this.” I said turning to Dean and he gave me a look of are you sure and I looked back, yes. “Sir I am just fine in my job, and I will take on more weight in my life then you will ever do in your long single life. Your workers work hard for themselves, and their families and they deserve respect as does anyone and they aren't just objects that you can talk about so carelessly. Next time you want to make a comment like that in front of me I just want you to remember I have a Glock on my side.” I finished walking away leaving him shocked and a little afraid. I walk over to the boys getting to the table and downing my drink I needed to after dealing with that little gremlin.

“Y/n I think he peed himself a little … good job!” Dean said high fiving me. “Just another day another mean person taken down any luck with Bobby?” I asked Sam. “A little. We officially have a theory.” “What’s that?” Dean and I both ask. “Siren.” Ohh that makes sense. “Like Greek myth siren, the Odessy?” Dean said surprising Sam but not me. I knew Dean was smarter than he let people know. “Hey, I read!” He said offended at Sam's look. “Yeah, actually. But the siren's not actually a myth, it's more of a beautiful creature that preys on men, enticing them with their siren song.” “Let me guess, 'Welcome to the Jungle?' No, no. Warrant's 'Cherry Pie.'” Dean responded. “Ha good one but I think Sam means more of allure like a promise of perfection.” “

So, they shake their thing and the guy's zombie out.” “Basically, yeah. Sirens lived on islands, sailors would chase 'em, completely ignoring the rocky shores...and dash themselves to pieces.” Sam added back in. “Sounds like Adam and his buddies.” Dean said back. “exactly” “Yeah. If you were a siren in '09 looking to ruin a bunch of morons, where would you set up shop?” “So whatever floats the guy's boat, that's what they look like?” Dean said confirming it. “Like Disney princesses” I said back. “Yeah. You see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most and then they can kinda, like, cloak themselves. You know, like an illusion.” “So, it could all be the same chick? Morphing into, uh, to different dream girls?” “Yeah, actually. Probably. Sirens are usually pretty solitary.” “So, uh how do we kill it?” I ask. “Bobby's working on it. Even if we figure that out…” “How the hell are we gunna find it? It could be anybody.”

Dean and I were waiting in the motel room for Sam getting info on the new guy and looks like he left his phone. Dean picks it up. “Dean, come on, maybe we should ask him.” “Y/n with everything that has been going on this past year do you think he would tell the truth.” He doesn’t let me answer and dials the number anyway and puts the phone on speaker. “Hey, Sam.....Sam?... You there...?” Guess who was on the other line my best friend Ruby. We both look at each other in disbelief and he quickly hangs up the phone as Sam comes back in. “Lenny Bristol was definitely another siren vic.” He said walking in the room. “You get in to see him?” Dean asked him, sounding like he was trying not to punch him. “Yep. He brought home a stripper named Belle. Couple hours later he offed his mother. Belle, of course, went MIA.” “Wait, he killed his mom?” “The woman he was closest too.” Then Sams phone rang. “Yeah, you, uh, forgot your cell phone.” I said handing it to him. He gave me weird look. “Hey Bobby.” “Ahhh, no. And, uh, it doesn't seem like she's slowing down any. You got anything?”

“Hold on a sec, I'll put you on speaker.” He puts the phone on the table for all of us to hear. "It says you need "a bronze dagger, covered in the blood of a sailor, under the spell of the song". “What the hell does that mean?” I ask. “You got me. We're dealing with 3000 years of the telephone game here.” “Best guess?” “Well, the siren's spell ain't got nothing to do with any song. It's most likely some kind of toxin or venom. Something she gets in the vic's blood.” “And makes them go all Manchurian Candidate. Uh, what do you think, she infects the men during sex?” I asked. “Maybe.” “Supernatural STD.” “Well, however it happens, once it's done the siren's gotta watch her back. She gets a dose of her own medicine…” “It will kill her.” I said finishing Bobby’s sentence. “Like a snake getting iced by its own venom.” “So, we just gotta find a way to juice one of the OJs in jail?” Dean said thinking it was going to be that easy. “Not that easy. None of those guys are under the spell anymore. Haven't got a clue where you're going to get the blood you need.” Sam looked like he was thinking. “I think I might have an idea.” He said talking about the blood if we could see it and maybe he could see the doctor again. “Be careful. These things are tricky bitches. Wrap you up in knots before you know what hit ya.” We left ready to go to the hospital and me wanting to talk to Sam about Ruby before Dean would blow up about it.

“Dr. Roberts.” Sam said to Cara. “Agent Stiles. Can't stay away, huh?” Yup they are definitely feeling each other out. “Actually, uh, we're here on business. About the blood samples. The ones with the high...you know...oxytocin?” “Do you still have them?” I ask. “Mm-hmm.” “Good, we need them.” Dean replied a little rude there. “What for?” She asked. I was about to answer when this handsome man walked up to us in a suit and tie. “Excuse me, Dr. Roberts?” “Yeah?” “Excuse me, uh, we're a little busy here, buddy.” Dean said, pulling out his FBI badge and then so did the man. “Yeah, so am I, pal.” Oh, shit it was a real agent and a cute one at that. “Doc, can you give us a sec, please?” Sam said to Cara. “Sure.” She said backing away. “What's your name?” Dean asked very rudely you know if you're going to fake being an FBI agent you should probably not be a dick to a real one.

“Nick Munroe. What's yours?” I answered before they started to pull out to measure. “I am special agent Y/n Ross, and these are my partners Sam Stiles, Dean Murdoch.” “Y/n that's a pretty name.” Damn it am I blushing I think I’m blushing. “Thanks, I like yours too” What is going on with me? “What office are you from?” Sam stepped in. “Omaha, Violent Crimes Unit. My SAC sent me down here to see about the murders.” “You?” He asked and felt like he was looking at me when he said it. I felt like I was in middle school again.”D.C. Our Assistant Director assigned us.” Dean answered. “Oh, which AD?” “Mike Kaiser.” “What are your badge numbers?” He asked. “You're kidding, right?” “Dean he's just doing his job here you can call our AD and we can sort this out maybe we can even work together.” I said the words before I could even register them. No, I don't want Nick to be around us to find out that we’re not real FBI agents, but I can't stop talking.

I handed him the card and he took it out of my hand, but he also grabbed it slowly and I got pulled a little with it. He went over to the corner to call our “AD” aka Bobby cooking. While they both turned to me. “Y/n are you serious right now?” Sam said to me. I get upset at that. “What you Dean are the only ones allowed to date. Is it because he's a real agent and that he's threatening your power.” I said to them, and they were both shocked I was a little too. “No of course not-” “Good then he can help us and don't worry I won't let him really know what's really going on I'm not Dean of how he bangs a girl for a couple months and then tells the family secret to.” I finished referring to Cassie from a couple years ago who Dean really did love. I knew that was a bitch thing to say but for some reason I didn't really care at that moment. “Y/n -” “I'm sorry, guys.” Nick said, walking back to us. “That's okay Nick you were just doing your job.” I said, smiling softly. As my brothers stood there both were wondering what was going with their sister. “Where are you at with this?” He asked us.

“Where are you at with this?” Dean asked trying to suss out how much Nick really knew. “Well, I was just about to run the, uh, perps' bloodwork.” I jumped again at the opportunity to talk to him. “We we’re too great minds think alike huh? But it turns out to be a dead end sadly.” “Oh yeah? But get this. I feel like I found something that, uh, connects all the murderers.” “Oh my gosh, that is so smart Nick.” “Thank you Y/n. Get this they were all banging strippers.... from the same club.” “You don't say!” Dean said with a sarcastic undertone. “What do you say we, uh, go down there and check it out?” “YES, I mean yes we definitely should investigate.” I said getting closer to him. “Well, here's the thing, Nick. See, we're kinda lone wolves…” Dean starts to say but Sam stops him. “You know what, that sounds like an excellent idea. Just... just give me a second with my partner and we'll, uh...one sec. Come here.” Sam brings Dean over to the corner. While Nick and I talk.

“Dude, you gotta stay with him.” Dean did not want to do that. “What?” “Keep him outta the way. Also, to keep an eye on Y/n there is something wrong with her.” They both look to Nick and I giggling up a storm and as I kept on touching Nick on the shoulder which if I do like guy, I don't do that. “Yeah, okay what are you going to do?” “I'm gonna do the blood samples.” “What the hell am I supposed to do with him?” “Just take him to the strip club...keep an eye out for the siren. Come on, Dean, just... just focus on the naked girls. You'll forget he's even there! And try to keep Y/n away from him.” Dean thought if I can as he looked over to me just staring at Nick like he was the messiah.

Dean, Nick and I were back at the strip club and the two men currently are going off on each other of music knowledge. “Nobody's Fault But Mine.” Dean questioned. “Zeppelin recorded it in '75. It was a cover of a Blind Willie Johnson tune.” “Good job Nick” I winked at him and grabbed his hand a bit. “You Shook Me.” Nick questioned back and I answered this one. “'69, debut album, written by Willie Dixon and J.B. Lenoir.” “Nice Y/n, pretty and brains your boyfriend is a lucky man.” He said, staring at me. “Well maybe lucky for you I don't have one.” I said getting closer. Dean saw us getting closer and realized he was dropping the ball on watching me. “You know dude, for a fed you're not a totally dick.” Dean said stopping Nick and I. Nick was confused. "Aren't all of us feds?” He asked.

The three of us were walking to the car and Nick saw the car. “All right, we're taking my ride, no complaining about the tunes.” Dean said. “No way. You drive an Impala?” I knew Nick was a cool guy and it looks like Dean is about to find out too. “It's a '67, right? It's a 327 four barrel.” wow spot on. “Yeah, actually.” Dean said confirming it surprised that Nick knew about it. “It's a thing of beauty.” When he said that he also looked at me and winked. “How the hell did you talk the Bureau into letting you drive your own wheels? “Maybe because we're fake. But Nick doesn't need to know that.

“Yeah, I know, I just...you know, not a lot of feds are as cool as us, huh?” Smooth Dean smooth. “So, what the hell with this case, man? How does a girl talk four different johns into murder?” Nick asked Dean and not really me. “It's a crazy world.” “I guess. Hey, can I level with you?” He asked. “I found something kinda weird.” “Well. You have bought your weird to the right spot. Lay it on me.” “I went to the crime scene this morning. Saw them bagging this up.” He showed us this evidence bag with flower petals in it. “So, I went back, uh, through all the files. It turns out a flower just like that was found at every crime scene.” It looked familiar. “Like it was left on purpose?” Dean questioned. “You know, sometimes a serial killer will leave an object behind, like a calling card. But with this case? Tell you the truth, I got no idea what's going on.” “I think I might. I've seen a flower like this before.” He said getting up to go into Cara, but I didn't care all I cared about was Nick at that moment.

“Why don't we get out of here.” Nick said, standing up holding out his hand for me to take. We ended up in this little cafe and we talked fully for those two hours, and he seemed really into the same things I like. He started to lean closer and closer and was looking at my lips, but my nerves got in the way. “Uh sorry Nick I will be right back.” As I walked to the restroom, I did not see his expression change from a smile to an annoyed one. I walked to the restroom and locked it and went to the mirror. “You got this y/n you are amazing.”

“Y/n? Let's go” “You got this it's just research and plus Nick might need help right Nick?” “Most definitely I could use the help.” I giggled at him again. Dean didn't have time to deal with this.”Alright you know what Y/n meet us at the room in two hours okay.” “Okay” I answered not even looking at him.

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As I finished my sentence, I saw something I was not expecting. “Cas?’” I turned around to say something instead he came up close and suddenly I was in a random field. “CAS WHAT THE HELL?” I yelled at him. He didn't say anything as he came close and touched my forehead and it was like a fog had lifted. “Oh my gosh what happened to me?” He replied. “You were under a pre love spell.” He said so casually. “A pre-love spell, what does that even mean?” “It means the siren that you were so close to almost had you completely under his control.” “Nick?” I asked and he nodded his head. “That scaly Motherfucker.” “Wait, how did you know?” I asked him. “Were you following me?” “I was” “Why?” “I sensed you were in trouble.” I couldn't even figure that out because I was covered in that love fog. “Thanks, you really are a guardian angel.” “I was just doing my job.”

“Yeah, Cas for a job that's pretty amazing. I guess I'm pretty lucky to have an angel as a friend.” I said finishing and smiling. “Friend?” “Well to me you are, you keep saving me and listening to me that's what friends do Cas.” “Right friends” He said and looked happy? “The siren! I have to worn Sam and Dean.” “Send me back.” He hesitated not wanting to send me back to danger, but he knew I would get there one way or another. He came up to me and before holding up his fingers and said, “Just be careful” That made me happy that he cared to tell me that. “Don't worry I always am.” He then put his fingers back on my forehead and I was back at the motel.

I went straight to our room calling Dean and then Sam because they were not answering. “Dean, pick up your damn phone, the siren is Nick! Be careful.” I walked in the room and as soon as the door closed, I had a pair of arms run into me. “Daaa!” I was struggling to see you had me pinned then I saw Nick walk in front of me. “Y/n where did you go? We were about to get to the fun part of our date.” I looked to the side and just saw Sam standing there. “Sam! Help!” Nick laughs at me. “Ohh Y/n your brothers won't lift a finger unless I tell them to” I then looked behind me and it was Dean who was holding me back. “So, you just come in and home wreck everyone into murdering their loved ones.” “I give those guys what they want. I just lift the blind and give them permission to do what they always wanted to do. And I got what I wanted, your brothers.” “Sam why don't you give your sister a nice punch not on the face though I don't want it too damaged.” Sam walked in front of me and punched me in the stomach as Dean held me.

“Uhhh” I wanted to fall from the impact, but I couldn't. “Your brothers are mine Y/n” “You poisoned them.” “No Y/n I gave them what they wanted as it looks different for each person. What you want no crave is love. I mean I have never seen a person fall harder for me. You must not never have been in love don't worry you will be in a minute. Dean hold her up right and Sam hold her mouth open.” They did without being told twice. I try to fight it but it's impossible because of how strong my brothers were put together. Nick opens his mouth wide and squirts his toxin in mine. I am let go and drop to the ground. “Now why don't we get back to that kiss sweetheart.” Nick said getting closer as I punched him right in his kisser. “You can take that kiss and shove it up your ass sweetheart.” He goes to touch his face and finds blood.

“Okay bitch how did you do that you not human or something?” “As far as I'm concerned One hundred percent.” “Ha okay that was some good entertainment thanks. Boys, why don't you kill her and then you two will fight to the death and whoever wins gets to be with me forever.” Wait what? Oh shit. They start to circle me. “Little Y/n/n the bane of our existence. I mean Sam and I have always had to hold your hand through everything. It's pathetic right Sammy.” “Yeah, Dean I mean we would have such a better life if she wasn't here.” “Then let's take care of her.” Dean said running at me. I dodge it good thing they taught me to fight men two times their size. Somehow, I got knocked out by one of them. “Y/n Y/n!!!” I was being shaken awake. It was Bobby. I was confused. “Bobby what happened?” I said and standing behind Bobby were my two brothers looking Sad.

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It was the next day, and no one was really talking. Bobby came from his car handing us sodas as in telling us he was happy that we were okay well physically. “Thanks, Bobby. You know, if you hadn't shown up when you did…” Sam said not wanting to finish his sentence. “Done the same for me, more than once. Course, you coulda picked up the phone. Only took one call to figure out that Agent Nick Munroe wasn't real.” Yeah, not real neither was he liking me. “You guys gunna be, OK?” I didn't say anything. I was hurt not just from the fight. “Y/n?”

“Mmhh of course always am.” I was lying to myself, and everyone knew it. “See ya. You know, those sirens are nasty things. That it got to you, that's no reason to feel bad.” He got in his car and drove away wishing I was with him. “You gunna say goodbye to Cara?” Dean asked Sam apparently, they had got into a different type of research. “What's the point?” “Well, look at you. Love 'em and leave 'em.” “Y/n, look, you know we didn't mean the things we said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?” “Yeah, me too.” It was more silence like we knew we were all lying. “'Kay. So... so we're all good?” Sam said, looking at both of us because he and Dean had their own nasty fight. “Yeah, we're good.” Another lie.

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That was it, I hoped you liked it! Wow this chapter was a lot more intense than my others and we didn't get much Cas because I thought it should be a more sibling relationship chapter, but I still got a scene of him caring and maybe a little jealous because CAS. The name I used for the fake agent's name was ode to Diana Ross like how Sam and Dean do classic singers all the time. I'm trying to progress Y/n’s and Cas’s relationship not too fast and not too slow so hopefully I'm dealing with that okay. I'm so excited we are just getting closer and closer to the season finale which is crazy. As always thank you for reading and the likes. If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, just ask nicely in the commits.

@vfandom hope you liked it!

#castiel x reader #castiel #castiel x y/n #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #team free will #spnfandom #supernatural #Supernatural Season 4 #castiel x you #Castiel x reader series masterlist #bobby singer #bobby spn #cas spn #cas x reader #cas x y/n

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lets-try-some-writing · 2 years

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We need more outlier kids content!!!! Also, these kids seeing the base as a safe and relatively controlled environment to flex their powers is a must

Cee and Mags need to chill a bit; maybe they will change their mind about outliers as they get attached to the kids. I mean, you can't tell me that Mags wouldn't get attached to the kids too (I would squeal if, against all odds, he, unknowingly, ends up joining the fav girl miko squad alongside Bulk and Jackie. Like, that girl is a wrecker and probably spends a LOT of time with them)

Outlier kids content, ah how I have wanted to write this for a while. Fluff, angst, and some Arcee and Magnus redemption on the way!

Home away from Home

It took some time, but with the bots never saying anything and any possible commenters being silenced (*cough cough* Magnus *cough cough* Arcee) the children came to view the base as a safe space to be themselves. There was still quite a bit of apprehension, but eventually the children calmed and grew comfortable with the bots, even going to so far as to train their powers under the guise of games at the bots prompting. After all, there is no better way to increase control over an outlier's abilities than to have them practice.

For Jack it was rather hard for the team to come up with something they could feasibly rope him into without making him too self conscious. But after a bit of planning on Ratchet and Optimus's part, they created a schedule that would hopefully with time help Jack come out of his shell. The training was rather simple: Hand Jack a ball and play catch with him. It started off small, with Bulkhead and Wheeljack roping Jack into playing with them by using a human ball at first. And once he got comfortable with that, they slowly began altering the ball internally, increasing its weight over the course of weeks just enough to be noticeable but not startling. Jack began to catch on, but since no one ever said anything and treated it like it was normal he allowed himself to become more confident. He did not question it vocally when the original basketball with discarded and he was instead tossed a sized down but still rather comically large Cybertronian lob ball to use.

Within four months Jack was throwing around a full-sized lob ball like it weighed nothing. And that was not the only change, he started to eat more in response to the activity and the acceptance of the team. His mother was overjoyed and took extra time to prepare meals for Jack to take to base since that was the only place he felt comfortable consuming more than a slice of bread. His body also finally began filling out with the increased nutrient intake, still being rather lean but with a healthy and attractive amount of muscle. He became an overall happier teen, joking around more freely and even showing off his strength when particularly joyful. His smile was contagious and the healthier and more comfortable he became, the brighter the base seemed to be. Miko's training also came in the form of a game, although hers was not hidden very well. Since she seemed to have few reservations about her powers the team did not stress over hiding the game or the obvious usage of power needed to play and instead focused on helping her improve. Her game was also pretty simple, it being to play tag with Smokescreen and Bumblebee. The two younglings needed the exercise and the chance to play for a change and Miko needed to train her accuracy and control. It worked out well, although in the beginning the play area was reserved to the training room to keep Miko from accidentally landing on or falling from something dangerous. While not fond of outliers in base, Ultra Magnus was not the kind of mech to sit by and watch the small human sparkling go blinking in and out of reality only to appear in a NOT safe location before blinking away again. And so as the games progressed in intensity, with Smokescreen and Bumblebee actually having to make an effort to keep away as Miko got more creative and controlled, Ultra Magnus joined the game. He said it was to maintain order, but with time his gruff exterior faltered and he came to no longer resent Miko's very existence.

It left Arcee baffled to watch to notorious Outlier hater carry around Miko and even begin mother henning her when she got a little too excitable, working herself into a state of exhaustion after a game. She was left even more flabbergasted when Miko willingly began calling Ultra Magnus one of her wreckers with affection, even slapping stickers on his armor and not so much as getting a scowl in response. Smokescreen and Bumblebee for their part always looked forward to their regular game of tag. Not only did it bring them great joy to see Miko improve and therefore be less likely to teleport into traffic or off a cliff, but the challenge was also a welcome one. Miko gave them a run for their credits with how fast and creative she was with her teleportation. Often Bumblebee and Smokescreen would be forced to practically bend over backward to escape her rapid assaults'. It was fun, and a simple activity with no real stakes, a welcome relief from the ongoing war.

As for Rafael? There was discussion of handing his training over to Ratchet, but in the end Optimus agreed to take over the practical aspects to ensure that no one got hurt. The Matrix shielded his mind from intrusion and his extreme control and mental fortitude ensured that he could keep himself in check with Rafael pocking around in his helm. And Ratchet could assist Rafael in the more philosophical and medical aspects of his training, walking him through meditation and assisting him when he inevitably needed someone to talk to and get painkillers from. Thus it was that Optimus quietly began taking time off every other day to play a simple game with Rafael, that being a mental game of memory. He would sit with Rafael, allowing the boy to enter his mind and prod while still keeping his memories and sensitive thoughts well secured. He would then display varying thoughts, memories, and emotions, tasking Rafael with hunting them down amidst a puzzle he would create. When Rafael succeeded he was rewarded with interesting information from Optimus ranging from songs, to simple memories, to secrets that could barely be comprehended.

At the end of their game Rafael would go to Ratchet to calm down from the mental struggle and relax, talking out anything that bothered him. And with time, Rafael grew to unlock a greater amount of his potential, not only able to influence others subtly, but also sift through their minds if they were unprotected mentally. His control grew greater and he became far more comfortable associating with others, especially the bots since he came to understand their way of thinking better through Optimus. In fact, he came to appreciate his time with the bots more than the time he spent with other humans. Humans were complicated in a way he wasn't used to handling, but the bots were more understandable in their way of processing data, more organized. It made communicating with them easier, only serving to make Rafael more and more comfortable at base.

The children were happy and comfortable and all was well... except for Arcee. She struggled with understanding and accepting the children. She had seen one too many outliers go rouge, abusing their gifts to hurt others and destroy lives. And while logically she was aware of the fact that the children were children, her guardianship over Jack was still awkward to say the least. It wasn't until Jack threw a boulder at Arachnid and saved her plating that Arcee began lightening up a bit. She still didn't trust outliers, but her outlier was alright. She reasoned that she mother henned her boy to keep him from falling down a dark path, but in reality she just liked doting on him.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #rafael esquivel #jack darby #miko nakadai #team prime #this one is rather short #but so be it #i am tired #eat my lovely followers!#enjoy some simple fluff!

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esta-elavaris · 3 months

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22, 24, 28 please <3

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

Oh, all of the time. I used to have panic attacks over CTW, and even now I still think every time I post a chapter that this will be the one that exposes me as an absolute hack and everybody will unfollow and unsub 💀 I don't think it goes away, I think it just get easier to act in spite of. I remember when I was at uni, I gave my novel writing teacher the first chapter of my novel (the one I'm still working on now lmao) and when I had a meeting with him a week later to get my feedback, I walked in already apologising for how bad it was.

He had to stop me, be like "Lucy please just read the feedback, here" as he handed me his notes, and the feedback was literally 99% praise, paired with one minor piece of criticism over a paragraph that I already knew wasn't great. It's just how I am. CTW was written years after that, and there are still times when I'm furiously justifying plot decisions because I was certain they'd be hated and I was defending myself against hate that didn't even end up sprouting up (the captaincy of the Dutchman was a big instance of that), we really are our own worst enemies a lot of the time.

I would highly recommend reading The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. But also, just get used to doing the thing in spite of that fear. It's definitely disproportionate considering I don't really write anything too controversial, but this is the internet and you do occasionally get people just looking for problems. The funny part being that when they sprout up, I usually just laugh at them - the thought of them cropping up is worse than when they actually do. I just struggle to respect the opinions of people who spend their time being shitty to artists online, not least because they NEVER have any of their own stuff posted.

The only way I'd be able to take non-constructive criticism seriously would be if it came from a respected mutual because I'd know it was coming from a well-meaning place, but my lovely mutuals would never be non-constructive in their criticism, so the point is moot.

24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

So I write daily as a rule, and after around four months of that (which were challenging, I won't lie, back when I started in 2020), whether or not I "felt" creative stopped being a factor in that equation. The more you show up, the more your creativity does, it really is like a muscle. Some days are still better than others -- I did find this year that having other creative outlets helps a lot. I think about writing and plot decisions etc. so often while I'm crocheting, because it gets me into that same zone but without the added stress of staring at an empty word document, which can be very intimidating at times.

Reading also helps! Fic is great, ofc, but I really can't emphasise enough how good it is to read books, and cast a wide net for that reading material. Rn I'm doing three reading challenges, one that revolves around classics, another where you read a book from every single country in the world, and a third where it's all book recs from mutuals, on top of whatever I'm mood reading, and I always have at least one non-fiction book on the go, too. Some of those reads end up being absolute stinkers, but it's a necessary process.

28. your least favorite part of the writing process

Descriptions! Dialogue comes so quickly and so easily to me - so many of my drafts start out just looking like a script because I'll get all of the dialogue down and then I have to fill in the bits in the middle. I'm not great with metaphor, and I struggle to wedge in my descriptions in a way that feels natural and not shoehorned in.

When I read back old stuff, though, I don't think that struggle shows too much, which is nice.

I also hate edits, because if I spend too long doing that I'll end up not wanting to post the chapter, so I have to find a nice balance between proofreading and not giving myself a chance to freak myself out...which is how an embarrassing number of typos and mistakes slip through.

Thank you!! 💜

Ask game ✨

#asks #anon #ask game

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terresdebrume · 9 months

Text

The old fashioned try

Fandom: Band of Brothers Rating: Teen & up Warning: None Pairing: Bill Guarnere/Babe Heffron Length: 2 260 words.

Summary: Bill and Babe have a regular Thursday night meetup. It's the highlight of Bill's week, except when Babe sits at the table with the stress levels of a deer being hunted for sports.

Note: The other day @gamebird prompted me to write about my favorite character being under tremendous amounts of stress. This isn't quite that, but it's still only here because of the prompt, so thanks for that :) Hopefully, I'll manage to clean it up and edit it enough to crosspost to AO3 before the 31st, but if not it'll be my first fic of 2024 I guess x) Also, this is part of the same modern AU as the story centered on Ruth Liebgott, but you don't really need to have read that to read this.

There’s something wrong with Babe. Bill clocks it before he even sets a crutch in the diner. His first clue? It’s seven pm on the dot, the exact hour they’ve agreed to meet, and not only is Babe right there, he’s got a mostly-empty beer bottle right in front of him. Which means he’s not just on time: he was early. Bill frowns. Babe has many, many qualities in life, but God knows punctuality is not on the fucking list. So what the hell brought him in so soon?

Frowning harder, Bill steps away from the window. He makes his way to the front of the diner, swearing when his right crutch catches on an old chewing gum, but he doesn’t let it distract him for more than a moment. He’s got to figure out what the hell is going on with Babe. He’s sitting at their usual table, at least, but he’s barely paying attention to Doris and her jokes. Bill shoulders the door open without paying it the slightest bit of attention: at the table, Babe’s knee is bouncing so hard it’s threatening to shake the table. Babe’s hair is a mess, too, like he’s been running his hands through it. His usual pale face has gone pasty white, and his finger taps at the tabletop like he’s trying to use morse code.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Bill maneuvers around some dicks hanging out between tables instead of sitting the fuck down, and feels his frown deepen when Babe fucking stands up as he notices him. Stands up—what the fuck is this, a business meal? Come the fuck on. Bill smiles anyway, because it’s Babe and their Thursday dinner is the fucking highlight of his week. Doesn’t mean he turns his eyes off. Or his brain for that matter. Babe’s palm is sweaty when he grips Bill’s hand. His hug jerky. Babe’s nervous, but what the fuck about is the question?

“How you doing?” Babe asks, a light frown hovering over his brow.

Bill answers, of course, and the conversation proceeds almost like it’s any other Thursday night…except Babe doesn’t fucking relax. He’s jittery and distracted, and the more Bill sees it the more tense he feels himself get in response. He can’t tell what it’s about, is the fucking thing. It’s not a new partner, for sure, or Babe would have spilled the beans already. Ditto: the return of the Doc. Babe and Gene parted on amicable terms last year, if Babe were back with the guy he wouldn’t need to be cautious about announcing it. So, Bill concludes as they discuss his and Babe’s weeks, this isn’t about Babe’s love life.

It’s not about family news, either. Bill had his Ma on the phone this morning, and his ma talks to Anne Heffron every Wednesday during book club. She’d have shared any important news. So, no sick Heffron, no sudden death, nothing like that. Besides, news like that would make Babe look sad, not like he’s about to vibrate off the goddamn couch! And yet the attitude just…persists. Babe jitters as he recounts a frankly uneventful week of essays and uninspiring classes. He taps his finger against the table, his glass, his plate, as he listens to Bill’s anecdotes from the VA. He runs his hands through his hair no less than four times—four times! —while they trade news about their group of friends.

It goes on past their opening beers, past the arrival and clearing of Babe’s red gravy pasta and Bill’s tomato pie, and past the moment Doris comes back to see if they want any dessert. And all the while Bill feels his heart speed up, feels the prickle of sweat under his armpits, the hair standing up at the back of his neck. It starts in a slow simmer, the heat of it rising, and rising, and rising steadily, until Bill snaps.

“Alright, spit it out, Babe.”

Babe’s eyes widen in doe-like surprise, and Bill would chuckle at the sight if he weren’t too busy panicking. It’s not good news, it’s not a death in the family, it’s probably not about Babe’s job—but’s enough to make him look like he’s preparing to be lined up against a wall or something, and not knowing the what’s what is giving Bill the worst fucking case of the jitters.

“Spit what out?” Babe retorts, looking even more caught out.

Bill kicks him under the table.

“What the fuck?” Babe hisses, switching from cornered to annoyed in less than a second. “What was that for?”

“Don’t give me that ‘spit what out’ bullshit,” Bill hisses right back, glaring into Babe’s eyes, “You’re shaking so much I could sit a gal on your leg and charge her for the joy ride, what the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing,” Babe says, and Bill kicks him again. “Ow! Fuck you!”

“Just fucking tell me what’s going on,” Bill demands, feeling his patience unravel at high speed. “You in trouble or something? Do I need to help you hide a body?”

“What? No!” Babe says, switching track again, from annoyance to clear indignation. “Of course you don’t need to help me hide a body! Jesus Christ!”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Bill knows he’s flailing as he asks, hears the faint lisp creeping back into his voice, and could maybe be embarrassed about it, but isn’t. This is freaking Babe, okay? They’ve known each other since they were in diapers! Bill was there for Babe’s first communion, for his first girlfriend, his first heartbreak. He let Babe crash in his bedroom after he came out to his parents and they didn’t take it so good, the two of them watching vines under Bill’s blanket while his Ma went and gave Anne Heffron a stern talking-to about acceptance. Hell, Bill was right there for all of Babe’s story with Gene Roe, from their meeting in college to their amicable break up last year.

What the fuck could Babe be afraid to tell him of all fucking people? Babe can be nervous around his parents, or his brothers, or anybody else all he wants, that shit just happens, but around Bill? Unless—

“Did I do something?” Bill asks after a bit, his frown coming back full force.

“No!” Babe replies immediately. “No, you didn’t do nothing! It’s me, I’m just.”

Babe cuts himself off, and if Bill still had two legs he’d be fucking standing on them because what the fuck else, then? If it’s not something he did or said or—what the fuck is it? But Bill doesn’t have two legs, and getting to your feet on crutches is too slow to look suitably dramatic. And even if he did want to go for it anyway, he wouldn’t have the time to do it because Babe comes to some kind of conclusion in his head: with an explosive sigh, he swipes a hand through his hair and says:

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Careful with that, I hear it’s dangerous,” Bill says automatically.

It makes Babe snort, which brings a smile to Bill’s face. It’s nice, making Babe laugh. Or smile. It’s the best part of spending time with the guy, really. Not that now is the greatest time to indulge in the pastime, but still. At least it makes the tension in Babe’s shoulders loosen.

“Speak for yourself, oldhead,” he says, yelping when Bill swats at him.

Doris comes by with their ice creams and a wink for Babe, which he receives with the perennial embarrassment of one who had a very obvious childhood crush that didn’t go unnoticed. Bill waits for Doris to leave before he makes a kissy face at Babe, which has the unexpected effect of making flush like he’s just spent a hot day at the beach without sunscreen. Normally, the only thing the joke does is make him roll his eyes, and Babe feels himself pout in confusion.

“I’ve been thinking,” Babe repeats, still flushed, his eyes down on the table.

Then he clears his throat and looks back up at Bill with his chin raised, like he’s expecting some kind of argument. Bill has no such thing planned unless Babe doesn’t fucking say what’s on his mind right the fuck now, and he’s about to say as much when Babe finally manages:

“I think we should date.”

What?

“What?”

“I think we should date,” Babe repeats.

Oh good. For a second there, Bill thought he’d heard wrong. Which, to be fair, he doesn’t think he can be blamed for: he didn’t exactly come here expecting his best friend to ask him out! Not that it’s. It’s not. Uh. Bill blinks.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” Babe says, his tone matter of fact despite the violent red of his ears.

That’s a compelling argument right there. A surprise, really, because Babe’s never really shown any leaning in that direction, but Bill is doing some mental math of his own and he’s not exactly finding any flaws with Babe’s reasoning on that one.

“Because I thought I was lying to my Ma when I told her I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone new, but now I don’t think I was.”

That’s…. Not to be mean to mama Heffron or anything! God knows she and her husband came a long way since Babe was sixteen and stressing out about being thrown out so bad he’d let Bill’s older siblings kick their ass in Overwatch. But the simple truth is that her main criterion for introducing anyone to her son is ‘are they a good Catholic’ which, really. Babe’s best friend is Bill. She should know better. So, yeah, it would have made sense for Babe to just say things to get her off his back.

The fact that he wasn’t—that he’s truly content with his life as is, with Bill as the main fixture of his social circle? Dating or not, that’s one hell of a flattering thing, really, and Bill feels his chest warm up from the inside out at the revelation. His mouth curves into a smile on its own accord. He’s not really interested in stopping it.

“And,” Babe adds after a beat, finger tapping away at the tabletop again, “because I think—I hope. I hope we can stay friends, even if it doesn’t work out.”

“Of course we will,” Bill retorts, indignation pushing out the warm affection from earlier. “The fuck kind of—I fucking told you, Babe. You and me, it’s for life, alright? We’ll still be shooting the shit in the nursing home, you’ll see.”

Babe grins, all traces of apprehension leaving his face, and Bill relaxes in response. ‘I hope we can stay friends’ what kind of fucking—of course they’ll stay friends. The only question left is whether they’ll be fucking married or happy exes by then! Sure, Bill didn’t exactly give it any thought before, but he is now. Giving it some thoughts. He’s giving it the thought that probably most things aren’t gonna change, really. They’ll still be thick as thieves and they’ll still be best friends, and depending on how this thing goes they’ll just add sex and living together and a dog in the mix. And frankly, out of the list, there’s two Bill would be okay to have with Babe even if they don’t make it romantically, so.

“Okay,” he says after a brief moment of silence.

This time, it’s Babe's turn to blink at him.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Bill confirms, grinning in the sharp way that makes Babe chuckle all on its own sometimes. “You’ve convinced me.”

“How romantic,” Babe mocks, rolling his eyes.

He’s grinning back, though, and the flush has moved from his ears to his cheeks—it looks good on him. It’s always looked good on him, the blush and the fucking twinkles in his eyes, and the grin that’s been pulling Bill’s eyes to his mouth for months, really, now that he thinks about it. And he hasn’t thought about it before, not consciously, but as it turns out it’s one of those things Bill knew without knowing he knew them. Like when Babe came out to him all those years ago: Bill hadn’t known but he wasn’t surprised, just like Babe hadn’t known about him but hadn’t been surprised either.

Hell, even Babe’s fucking banter—it’s new but it isn’t. Because alongside the abrupt thrill of a new step, something beautiful and exciting beginning, there’s also the familiarity and the comfort of Babe, and everything they already share. And so it’s with the same challenging grin as ever that Bill retorts:

“You want romantic? How about I walk you back right now and we see how we feel about kissing goodbye?”

Babe doesn’t even pretend to consider it, just straight up rolls his eyes:

“Fine. But next time, I want flowers.”

And it’s funny ‘cause see, here they are: haven’t even made a proper date out of the evening yet, and they’re already planning the second one. But what the hell, it’s Babe: date or not, if he wants flowers he’ll get flowers. So they leave their half melted ice creams on the table along with enough money for the bill and a generous tip, and they walk the two and a half blocks to Babe’s parents’ place. Bill bitches about his crutches the entire time, and Babe tells him he should stop being a baby and get a goddamn knee scooter already, and when they get to their destination they do try out kissing goodbye.

They like it alright.

#Band of Brothers #Babe Heffron #Bill Guarnere #Babe Heffron x Bill Guarnere #Harnere #BOB Fic #No idea if there's already a different ship name for these two but if not #Let's start it I guess #Matt writes #s: limo driver joe

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imogenleewriter · 1 year

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hello hi, i've got a question, what keeps you going while writing? i admire your consistency!

Hey!

Super valid question that I'm not entirely sure I have an answer to. Or maybe I have too many answers.

I'm going to give short ones (because I keep trying to answer this and writing a novel) but if you want me to elaborate I can.

1) Deadlines. If I don't have deadlines, I just waste time staring at a blank screen, and that's more stressful than forcing myself to get words down.

2) Writing stuff that matters to me. Before ychiits, I tried writing 1000 things with amazing plots and could never finish any of them. If you think about it, ychiits actual plot is so mundane, but for that, the characters were what mattered to me and a complicated plot would have taken away from that. The two wips mean different things to me as well. Writing fanfiction falls into that as well. I have no desire to write original works because writing Larry fanfiction means more to me.

3) General techniques that work for me. I could probably write an essay on this, but basically, I have so many strategies to get myself to write based on my mood.

4) Comments. I doubt I'd be close to as productive without comments and interactions. I probably get over 250 comments a week across all four fics now, and it's hard not to stay motivated when that happens. But at the start of ychiits I was getting like 4-5 comments per chapter, and that was still as motivating! (So please comment on every fic you love).

5) Planning. ychiits has a full draft. My current WIPs are less so because I found I didn't copy a single sentence from ychiits so it seemed silly to have a 100k draft when I only referred to it for scenes/chapters. So now I just focus on a general plot. My study looks like a serial killer den because of all the posters and cork boards and white boards where I keep all the plans. So, if i get stuck on a chapter, I write out everything I want to include in it. The more stuck I am, the more I flesh out the plan.

6) Talking things through with others. I started Ychiits because I know anyone in the fandom at all, so I was completely alone and didn't have a single beta until the last chapter when @hereforh and @enchantedlandcoffee looked through it as readers to make sure it all aligned so you can definitely do it without this. But now, because I have friends, lol, if I get stuck on a scene or chapter, I have people to talk to and bounce ideas off them and check they think what I'm writing makes sense. I've mentioned in my AN, but @hereforh and I have a constant chat - different time zones - and at least half of the time we're talking about fic ideas etc. @nooradeservedbetter also gives me amazing advice when I'm stuck.

7) Privilege. I don't know how to talk about this without sounding like I'm bragging. However, my job is after-hours. So, I don't work during the day on weekdays. It's a well-paying job, so I don't work full-time - my hourly rate is about double what it was when I worked in a hospital. Some of my shifts are being on-call overnight. This means I spend 10 hours in my study but only have to work when I get a call (that being said, I'm not very productive after 2am, so it doesn't help that much). There is still a need for me to bring in income, and does still take away hours from writing, but I obviously have more time to write than I did when I was working full-time.

8) Lack of sleep. Okay, so realistically, I need just as much sleep as everyone else, I know that. But I seem to survive better than most people would on the same amount of sleep.

9) Supportive husband. I mean, he's never read a word I've written or anything, but he is supportive in the sense that he knows writing is something I value and doesn't talk down about it. I think he'd be just as supportive if I were actually making an income from it as he is about it being fanfiction.

10) ADHD diagnosis and meds. Even medicated, my ADHD is still a big challenge to writing. It might not seem like that because of the frequency that I upload, but it still does. For example, I'll click out of the document to google a word or something and straight away get side-tracked, and after an hour, I'll remember that I was writing and come back to the document and realise I still didn't even google the word and the process starts all over again. But knowing that my brain works differently helps - i.e I know I can only write in 20-minute blocks, and then I need a break. That probably falls more into point three, but I know my limitations now. And ADHD meds still help bring me up to a point where I can actually finish things.

11) Letting go of perfectionism. Could my work be 10x better than it is? Yes. But when I'm writing and uploading 20k+ words a week, I don't have time to try and get every sentence perfect. The thing is, perfectionism freezes me. I probably would give myself more time between deadlines if I was sure that I would use that time to perfect chapters. But I either would still wait until the last minute and not use the extra time, or I'd get too wrapped up in getting every word perfect that I'd still miss every deadline. There are plenty of "good enough" words, sentences, paragraphs, and scenes in my fics that I know could be better, but I just don't have time to spend twenty minutes trying to find the right word or the best sentence structure. I hope that makes sense.

Anyway, this is still long af but I hope it helps a little. Happy to elaborate on any points - because I could definitely right about this all day - but again, it's already long af and I'm not sure if it is helpful at all lol.

#anon #answered anon #writing advice

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incandescentflower · 2 years

Note

Hello, there! For MTYL kisses, #43 “we’ll see each other again” kisses (There are so many options on that list, i just want them all! And thank you for the extra MTYL content, as always!)

I'm so happy to write this for you, @galauvant. I love my exchange fic you gifted me earlier this year and it's nice to give back.

For this post: send me a prompt number from one of these lists and characters for My Tooth Your Love and I'll write a short scene.

Also on AO3 and all my mtyl one shots too.

Sorry for the excessive self indulgence. This was definitely the prompt that led to this research.

You Just Wait

It had to be today. The day when all the major deliveries came and two of the part-timers were sick. The bar sink was leaking and the plumber had been putting them off for days. But of course, he could only come today to take care of it..

And Jin Xun-An was leaving for four days.

It was stupid and juvenile to feel so unsettled, just because Bai Lang had gotten used to him being there. It was the first time they would be apart for more than the hours of a workday. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t be alone anymore. Even when he had been at his most anxious, he had found ways to manage by himself.

Still, Bai Lang liked having Jin Xun-An there. Even thinking about him being gone made Bai Lang miss him. He had gotten used to knowing he could find Jin Xun-An whenever he wanted.

And of course, with all the extra chaos of the day, Bai Lang was running late. He was supposed to drop by the clinic at 15:00 to send Jin Xun-An off and it was already 14:45. He still needed to pack up some food before he left. At the very least he could give Jin Xun-An something for the trip.

He finally handed off his tables to Lu Li, the lunch rush finally settled, and headed to the back to grab some extra lunch boxes. Bai Lang hadn’t realized how many of them he had left with Jin Xun-An. He usually returned them pretty quickly, another excuse for them to see each other, but they had both been pretty busy the past week and they must have been too distracted when they were finally together to remember them.

Bai Lang dug into one of the boxes he thought for sure contained his extra containers, but were actually server napkins. He grabbed another, shuffling through a few others, frustrated that he hadn’t kept this place more organized. When he opened the fifth box and still did not find them, he shoved the offending box back and gave it a little kick.

He’d have to go without the food or risk not seeing Jin Xun-An before he left. The man was chronically and impossibly punctual. And to be fair, he had a train to catch. Bai Lang would just have to say goodbye without sending a piece of him along with Jin Xun-An.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“That box must have done something terrible.” Jin Xun-An’s smooth voice came from behind Bai Lang, as his arms slid over Bai Lang’s shoulders. He exhaled, relief washing over him, no longer fearful he would miss saying goodbye. Bai Lang hadn’t even realized that was why he was so stressed until he heard Jin Xun-An’s voice.

Jin Xun-An responded to Bai Lang relaxing under his grasp, moving his arms so that one was bracing Bai Lang across his shoulders and the other had slid over his waist, pulling Bai Lang fully into his chest. They stood like this for a moment. Bai Lang wanted to remember every sensation of this when Jin Xun-An was gone, the feeling of having him securely holding Bai Lang, reassuring him.

“You’re running late,” he whispered in Bai Lang’s ear. Jin Xun-An’s breath trailed over his skin as he spoke, sending a light shiver down Bai Lang’s neck.

“I know,” Bai Lang said, his voice pathetically remorseful. “I wanted to bring you something to eat and couldn’t find any of the lunch boxes.”

Jin Xun-An loosened his grip on Bai Lang, grasping his shoulders and turning Bai Lang to face him. He reached down and picked up a bag from the floor. “You mean these?” he asked, holding it out.

Bai Lang’s breath hitched. Despite it being so damned important to find them before, Bai Lang immediately couldn’t care less about the boxes. His eyes slid over Jin Xun-An who was standing there, as handsome as always, but this time in a beautiful, blue, three-piece suit. Bai Lang had never seen him in anything besides soft sweaters and doctor coats, which admittedly Bai Lang liked very much, but this was just different.

The color itself was striking, somehow accentuating what was already an overwhelming dark intensity in his eyes. And it was perfectly tailored - his coat hung open as he slid his hand into his trouser pocket, revealing the vest that was cut close to accentuate the line of his hip.

“Bai Lang,” Jin Xun-An said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Hello? Anybody there?” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up, as he tossed Bai Lang’s own words back at him. “I thought you wanted these,” he said, holding the bag up again to demonstrate he was still holding them.

“Shit,” Bai Lang said, grabbing them. “I’m sorry, can I go grab something for you to take? Do you have to leave now?”

“I told you to come 30 minutes before I had to leave. I knew you’d be late,” he said. “Then I was ready early so I figured I’d just come to you.” He stepped forward, emphasizing his last words and bracing himself over Bai Lang with one of his arms.

Bai Lang couldn’t help but smile. Jin Xun-An’s particular brand of seduction had often made him feel off balance. Initially, Bai Lang couldn’t ever imagine giving into it, despite how much he was drawn to Jin Xun-An, so he had always backed away in response. Now that he had no reason to resist, Bai Lang reveled in the way Jin Xun-An continued this pursuit. Bai Lang enjoyed giving in, giving over, letting Jin Xun-An show Bai Lang how much he wanted him. But Bai Lang also loved to show his own interest, to go after Jin Xun-An, to push back.

He leaned forward to meet Jin Xun-An, leaving only a breath between them. “So I’m not late then,” he said, smirking.

“Oh you’re late,” Jin Xun-An said, holding up his wrist and looking at his watch. “Now.”

Bai Lang frowned. “But you’re here. That doesn’t count.”

Jin Xun-An gave him an evaluative look. “Is this my clinic? I wasn’t aware.”

“Xun-An,” he said, playfully shoving him, creating some distance between them. “That’s not fair.”

“How is that so?” he asked, still speaking as though he was confused by Bai Lang’s logic. “You said you’d meet me at the clinic at 15:00 and it’s now 15:00 and we’re not at the clinic.”

“You’re so strict. But I’ve met you. Isn’t it the spirit of the agreement, not the letter of it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine,” Bai Lang said, enamored by the banter, a little bit of a game. Perhaps he should make it more interesting. He slipped his finger under the tail of Jin Xun-An’s tie, pulling it out from the vest and winding his fingers in it. “Then when you return, you can bring this over to my place and I’ll show you how very sorry I am.”

“The tie?” Jin Xun-An asked, his expression sliding into a goofy grin. The funny thing was, when Jin Xun-An was really into something, he completely lost that intensity and simply melted in Bai Lang’s hands.

“Oh this whole thing,” Bai Lang said, motioning to his suit with his free hand. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this.”

Jin Xun-An laughed and leaned forward, placing a brief kiss on Bai Lang’s cheek. “Agreed,” he said.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Bai Lang said, knowing the letting go part was imminent.

“I know,” Jin Xun-An said. “But it’s only a few days. I’ll come straight to your place when I’ve returned. I keep my word. You best keep yours this time.”

“Ouch,” Bai Lang said, with a mock wince. He wound his fingers up in Jin Xun-An’s tie tighter, pulling him close again. “Well, no matter where, I will be waiting.” With another tug on his tie, Bai Lang pulled Jin Xun-An to him. Jin Xun-An’s lips responded to Bai Lang’s immediately, as if he had known all along Bai Lang would close the distance.

They always seemed to get lost in each other, the way Jin Xun-An parted his lips, drawing Bai Lang into his mouth, Bai Lang opening up fully, pressing his tongue back in response. It was deep and desperate. They were indulging in each other, taking in as much as they could before the other was out of reach.

Despite not wanting to admit it, Bai Lang knew this had to be fleeting. They were on borrowed time. It wasn’t long before he could feel Jin Xun-An moving away, the pauses between kisses growing longer, until Jin Xun-An cradled Bai Lang’s face in his hands and pressed one last slow, full lipped kiss to his mouth.

Bai Lang released Jin Xun-An’s tie, tucking it back in his vest and smoothing out the shoulders of his jacket. It really was an excellent suit. “When you get back you can guide me on how to be more timely.”

“Oh is that so. Is this how you show your remorse?”

Bai Lang glanced away weighing his response. “Maybe if I am depriving you of my presence then you will need to find ways to reclaim that time.” He held the knot of Jin Xun-An’s tie and pulled on the material to straighten it. “You might need to keep me until I am thoroughly instructed. I’m sure you could come up with ways to restrain me.”

“Bai Lang,” Jin Xun-An said, almost scolding. “This is unfair. I have to go.”

“Then you’ll just have to work out your frustration when you return.”

Jin Xun-An groaned and pressed his lips against Bai Lang’s again, this time rapid, gasping kisses. “I”m leaving now,” he said between them. He stepped toward the door and turned back, pulling Bai Lang into his arms to kiss him one more time.

“You just wait,” Jin Xun-An said. The way he looked at Bai Lang was almost too much to take.

Bai Lang somehow kept it together. It was easier to send him off this way, thinking about what they would have when Jin Xun-An returned, instead of what they would miss while he was gone.

Bai Lang broke into a smile, waving coyly as JinXun-An stepped out the door. “I will.”

#my tooth your love #my tooth your love fic #my fic #asks #ask games #writing games #writing prompts #bai lang/jin xun an #ficlet #galauvant #more of my brainrot

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brooklynbrunette · 2 hours

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Hi blog,

Been a while, but that’s the norm here. Lately I’ve been getting such a strong urge to write, to get all of my feelings out on paper (or doc, or tumblr post, whatever) but by the time I finish the work I have planned from the day, I’m to exhausted to think. These past two weeks have been rough. Lack of sleep, tons of headaches, and just having a mind that refuses to focus and nail a task one at a time, but rather stay in a freeze state when it sees the much bigger picture of everything I have to do.

Don’t get me wrong—yes I am stressed, busy, tired all the time, but I also think my mind being all over the place has to do with the fact that I am falling for a boy. I just haven’t really gotten the chance to sit and write and express my feelings on the matter. So here I am, four months into knowing the guy, one month into dating, and I don’t know if what I’m feeling is love or not, because I’ve never really loved anyone, romantically at least.

For the sake of not spilling names I’ll use initials: I was obsessed with E, discarded D, and lusted after V. I don’t even count L, although I have to say I am learning that he was kind of my only test-run at an adult relationship. He took me out on dates, walked me home, cared for me. It was sweet. But it wasn’t what I needed nor what I was ready for at that time. I was still very immature with my emotions and needed to “play the field” a bit more.

What I didn’t realize is how I almost talked myself out of my first date with K, now I can’t imagine my life without him in it. I am usually stressed, moody, angry, and even though seeing him means I have to sacrifice more sleep I really cannot afford to lose, he calms me. He makes my brain go quiet. And that to me is no small feat. I feel protected, I feel safe, and I feel like I can be soft around him. I’ve never felt that way before.

Which begs the question—is this what love is supposed to feel like? What are the signs? Am I in it? How will I know? SHOULD I know? Am I moving to fast? Will I regret this? And more and more questions pop up as I try to figure out what I’m feeling. It’s so odd. I feel like I can’t keep my hands off him, like I need his body heat to feel okay. But I’m so fucking skeptical.

I was always the one saying I wouldn’t conform to dating in the culture, because I couldn’t see it happening. I could never see myself yearning for the cute relationship where you talk about marriage and kids and futures. That. Was. Never. Me.

With K, I feel like my realities have shifted. I’m trying to do it all—to expand my goals and dreams for myself and my career while also standing by someone’s side. To not feel like I’m alone. To truly care about someone, and drop the act. And every time I think he’ll be afraid to know everything about me, he proves me wrong. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

I told him how things with V ended, but I told him the whole story. I didn’t want to hold any details back because I felt like it was important to know: would this stop him from seeing me and thinking of me in such high regards? Would it bring him back down to earth? But no, he held my hand, he squeezed it when my voice was getting shaky, and he reassured me that everything was going to be okay. And whenever I find myself stressing out about work and wanting to do more, be better, screaming at myself that I’m not doing enough, I have that same notion in my head: no matter what, everything is going to be okay. And it is. It will always be.

So yeah, maybe I do love him or I’m still falling in love with him but as much as it enlightens me to get that out of my system, it terrifies me. I’m scared of how much I want to impress him, impress his friends, impress his family. How much I want to be perfect for him, but also perfect for all the people I work for. How my mind is so scattered that I completely missed an important work call that I should’ve been a part of. How I’m losing sleep and doing the bare minimum of work. How as much as I want to grow in my career, more work terrifies me because I’ll see him less. But on the flip side, it terrifies me that I find myself blaming him for my lack of constraint over my work schedule. My forgetfulness.

I have a lot I want to do with my life. I’ve stated it, written about it, typed about it. I know I was put here to make something of myself in whatever way, shape or form that I see fit. Right now I see myself growing brands, growing businesses, and being known as the person who comes into a company or a brand and flips it. Makes it better than it’s ever been. Brings more meaning to its message. I want to be known as that person. I want to turn myself into a brand. To be recognizable.

Recently I talked about my loss of respect for one of the women I was working with that I saw as a mentor. That loss has fueled me to be even better. I want K in my life, but not at the expense of my career. I want his affection and attention, but not at the expense of my aspirations. He’s been so supportive of me and I plan to be the same for him, and I think we’ll be alright. I just had to say that I will NOT change myself and my course.

I do have a lot to better about myself. I need to be on top of my game in all things me: self-care, doctor’s visits, personal time, gym routine, SLEEP. I can’t just give 110% to the people I work for. I have to give that to myself first. This right here is a reminder when I check back in to my blog - DO BETTER FOR YOURSELF. See how big of a difference it will make in your life.

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sakusakupanda9-blog · 4 months

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Hi, this is Shasha (fake name) and I’m writing this because I want to die. It’s not my first time feeling like this but this one is pretty deep and bad. The purpose of this piece of writing is that I have written everything I want to say and tell people after I die so I can die anytime I want without needing to open up my laptop and type for hours.

For now two of the main reasons I wanna end all this are follows

I hate my mum

I am an ugly and awkward person

Let’s start with the first point. I hate my mum. This statement is pretty self explanatory but let’s elaborate on it. She is very selfish but she doesn’t realise it. She is super privileged but she does’t know that. And the biggest part is that she doesn’t know that she is a bad mother. She’s been hurting me mentally and physically since for ever. There was one time she threw shoes at me in the car after tennis lesson and threw fish eggs at me while I was practcing the piano. Anyways, that’s fine. I want to die because I just realised that I can never be happy. I’m a try-hard and trying to somehow somewhat succeed in my life but i realised that because of the scars and damage I got from my mum I can never be truly happy. I’ll probably still be traumatized from my childhood any days I spent with my mum no matter how old I become or how successful I become. While my mum who hasn’t done anything mothery in the past four years will be bragging about my success to grannies on golf courses. I don’t like that. I really don’t like that. My friend basically told me to suck it up and ignore it but I can’t. I’m not kind enough for that.

So that was the background info and now I gotta star talking about why I want to kill myself today. It is because she is cudding and making weird noises and being like a 12 year-old slut who just got her first boyfriend in the livingroom next to my room. Plus I’m stressed about huge amount of school work that I need to complete and get well in. It might seem like not much but it is for me. I thought it will be over when she broke up with the last boyfriend that looked like a goblin but she got herself another one in a week. She also say bad thing about me to her bf probably subconsciously just to agree with him and make herself look good and I can’t forgive that. Because that 12 year-old girl is supposed to be my mum. Thus, I wanna kill myself :)

Next point is that I am an ugly and awkward person. Honestly if I lose 7kg and exercise more, I think I’ll be decent but I can never do that. Some people have tiny face with pretty eyes and long straight legs and clear skin but I don’t have any of that. While I think that if I’m confident in myself in some aspects other than my looks I wouldn’t care about how I look but I don’t have anything I can be confident about so this is the easiest target. If I was prettier my would have been so much better. It’s not that I want attention from boys (well…sort of but no) but I just wanna be confident that’s it. I wanna be confident in myself. That leads me to the other point, I’m awkward. It’s all because I’m not confident in myself. It’s not because of my english skill, I can say or write anything I want in English and I’m also awkward in Japanese. I hate it. I feel like I’m being judged but I feel that way only because I’m hating and judging myself. People actually don’t give a crap about me. Fully knowing all this, I’m so awkward and that’s why I can make any friends. I have friends but they are so nice that they will be friends with any not-mean person. It doesn’t have to be me. But I can’t make friends with anyone else because again, I’m an awkward person. Everyone at school is nice. They are so nice. But because I’m awkward we just end up being friend-ly to eachother and never become an actual friend. I wish I had an ability to hop in to any friend group and make friends anywhere. All I need is the confidence. And for that, I need to look good which is impossible. Also not only looking good, you kinda have to act cooooool and chill if I wanna be popular but I don’t wish for everything. Being pretty and nerdy will be more than enough.

I think all of the people I’m close with (that being two or 3 people) thinks that I’m smart and strong enough to not kill myself. Well, they are wrong. wrong wrong wrong. The truth is that I’m weak and dumb more than enought to decide to kill meself. Being one of the oldes in my year, I’m good at pretending strong and independent i guess but now, I can’t pretend anymore. If people think I’m stupid so be it, I’m tired of pretending anyways. another thing is that I’m good at shuting down on people who are trying to help me. well, if I be completely honest and subjective, it’s all because people actually don’t give a shit about my feelings or my existance. They are just simply too busy. Although I really really wanna blame it on them, I don’t. Because they have their life and their life continues even without me. They have their problems and craps to handle and it is not their job to handle mine. Valid, I wanna die because I can’t deal with my crap, same thing. It’s just that I’m over my capacity and can’t take it anymore. Exactly like people developing random allergies to things. You are fine first but as you continue to be exposed to it, you get the allergy! So now I’m allergic to living hahahahaha I’m so funny. Now that I’m thinking of posting this somewhere as I’m writing this, I can tell that I’m conscious of how people would think reading this and I don’t like that. I dont write or speak like this at all.

After all this, the truth is that I hope one day I can delete all this and live a life where I’m surrounded by loved ones and love myself but for now this is me. The only thing that is stopping me from unaliving myself is that I don’t know how to kill a human. Unfortunately (at least for me), human bodies are tougher than we think, in my opinion. So I can’t just die!! (crying emoji)

This is my first time writing a long piece of writing without using any translator or even Grammarly. Who ever reading this, have a lovely life!

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writingbymoonlight · 2 years

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jealousy

ft: kuroo x reader

a/n: This is part three out of four (probably?) of the university au series that I accidentally started with Kuroo. I've enjoyed writing these and I've been thinking about doing some other university aus for other characters. I may have an idea for one already 👀

The first two parts can be found here: Part one and Part two

word count: ~1.9k words

The good thing about the end of finals is, well, everything. The freedom. The lack of stress. The knowledge that you have a few weeks of rest before the beginning of the next semester.

The absence of exams also means there are no more excuses. You have been wanting to talk to Kuroo about what Bokuto meant when he had let slip that his lanky roommate didn’t want him “third-wheeling” on your grocery shopping excursion. To you, this implied that Kuroo had specifically wanted to spend one-on-one time with you.

This had sparked a flurry of thoughts and the notion of him perceiving you as more than friend did cross your mind. You tried to brush aside these thoughts and you didn’t make any comments about what Bokuto had said that day to Kuroo. You justified this by trying to convince yourself that you didn’t have the time to be distracted by the nature of your relationship with him in the middle of finals.

Kuroo didn’t say anything either about that exchange with Bokuto, which somehow made it harder for you not to ponder over it because you were dying to know what he was thinking.

Now that finals are done, you know that you can’t let Bokuto’s words keep gnawing away at you and tonight feels like the ideal opportunity to confront Kuroo about it: he and Bokuto had invited you to their place to have a movie night in order to commemorate surviving your finals. You had had countless movie nights with them in the past and, at the end of these movie nights, Kuroo walked you back to your apartment each time without fail. This walk felt like the perfect chance to get everything off your chest and, perhaps, figure out if he likes you romantically or not.

So, here you are now, setting up the coffee table in the living room with snacks and drinks alongside Kuroo, while Bokuto fiddles with the TV. The three of you are venting about some of the absurdly challenging questions your respective professors put on your exams when you are suddenly interrupted by thunderous knocking at the door. You and Kuroo glance at each other in confusion, while Bokuto zooms to the door excitedly and opens it to reveal Akaashi and the Miya twins.

It seems that Bokuto forgot to tell you that he invited more people to your movie night. And, judging by the way Kuroo furrows his eyebrows, Bokuto didn’t tell him either.

“Hey guys! Glad you could make it!” Bokuto energetically greets as he lets his guests inside.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Akaashi politely replies as he waves at you and Kuroo.

“I made some onigiri,” Osamu announces in his signature deadpan voice, holding up a plate covered in aluminum foil.

“Osamu, you are my favorite Miya!” Bokuto exclaims before snatching the plate from the gray-haired twin and scurrying off into the kitchen.

“Hey!” Atsumu pouts at the snide insult, crossing his like a petulant child. However, the moment his eyes land on you, a coy smirk forms on his lips and he makes his way towards you. “Y/N! Long time no see!”

“Yeah…long time no see,” you respond with a quirked eyebrow as Atsumu throws a heavy arm over your shoulder and leans closer to you. It wasn’t that Miya Atsumu was a complete stranger to you: you ran into him occasionally, hung out together when you both happened to be at Bokuto and Kuroo’s place at the same time and had some fun chats. Overall, you would label your relationship with the handsome blond as friendly. But not this friendly.

“You’re looking good!” Atsumu compliments you with a beaming smile. “I hope finals didn’t kick your ass too much.”

You subconsciously peek over at Kuroo, who is standing only a few feet away from you and Atsumu. The moment you lock eyes, though, he immediately turns around and heads straight into the kitchen. But for that fleeting moment, you caught him glaring at Atsumu the same way he glared at Bokuto the other day.

The moment Kuroo is gone, Atsumu removes his arm from your shoulders. You both then begin conversing for a little while about what you’ve been up to the last few days while everyone else loiters about in the apartment.

Soon, Bokuto declares that it’s finally time for movie night to commence and everyone heads into the living room. You plop into your usual spot: the left side of the loveseat that directly faces the TV. Whenever you’re watching anything with Kuroo, you always take the left side, and he always takes the right side. However, before Kuroo can get too close, Atsumu steals his spot in a flash, causing the former’s eyes to widen in astonishment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kuroo,” Atsumu states, though his tone is anything, but apologetic. There is undoubtedly a taunting edge. Atsumu crosses one leg over another and drapes his arms around the back of the couch, which makes him come across as very smug. “I can move if you want me to.”

The apartment becomes deafeningly quiet, and you haven’t the slightest idea of what to make of this impromptu showdown between Atsumu and Kuroo.

Kuroo’s hands at his side ball up tightly at Atsumu’s words, but within a matter of seconds, he loosens his grip and tries to appear nonchalant as he casually shrugs and says, “No, you can sit there.”

And with that, Kuroo takes a place on the floor beside the coffee table in front of you, and everyone votes on a movie to start off with.

Movie night ends up being pretty fun and you watch a wide variety of films, ranging from comedies to animated films to superhero blockbusters to cheesy romances. Everyone is laughing, talking, snacking, and having a good time. There are a few instances where Atsumu makes some flirty remarks, which you brush off.

Several movies later, you yawn and check the time on your phone. “Crap, it’s that late already? I think that’s going to be it for me tonight, guys.”

“What?! Oh, come on, stay for one more movie, Y/N! Please?!” Bokuto pleads, attempting to pull off a convincing puppy dog face in hopes that it will convince you. Instead, it causes you to shake your head and laugh.

“You have the shift at work tomorrow in the early afternoon, right?” Kuroo asks, turning back to face you. Although he has looked at you multiple times today, there is something insanely attractive about the way he is gazing at you right now: his captivating hazel eyes seem tired from staring at the TV for so long, but his attention is solely focused on you, which makes your heart do somersaults.

“Uhh, y-yeah,” you manage to stutter up as you stand up from the couch and stretch your arms a bit. “I should probably go home and get some sleep. I don’t want to get in trouble for dozing off during work.”

Kuroo opens his mouth, and you know that he’s about to offer to walk you home, but before he can get any words out, Atsumu jumps to his feet and blurts out, “I can walk you home, Y/N!”

Another silence descends across the room as everybody tries to act natural: Akaashi is focusing on his nails, Osamu diverts his attention to his phone and Bokuto stuffs his face with onigiri.

You know that you must give Atsumu, who is observing you expectantly with a large smile and his hands stuffed into the front pockets of jeans, an answer. You are aware that a lot of people on your campus would love to be in your current position. So many people wish that Atsumu would flirt with them the way he is flirting with you. So many people wish that Atsumu would offer to walk them home. But what you really wish for right now is for Kuroo to speak up.

You want him to say something.

You want him to say that he’ll walk you home like he always does.

You want to stroll beside him under the dark night sky.

You want to talk with him about the movies you just watched on the way to your apartment.

You want to whine to him about having to deal with your annoying coworker tomorrow.

You want to ask him what he meant by not wanting Bokuto “third-wheeling” with you two.

You want him to wish you goodnight at your front door.

But Kuroo doesn’t utter any protest against Atsumu. He simply stares at the floor.

“No, it’s okay, Atsumu, I’m fine walking home alone,” you politely decline.

“Oh come, Y/N. I know you live only a few blocks away, but you shouldn’t walk home alone at this hour,” Atsumu insists, and you know he has a point. You would rather have someone walk with you and Kuroo appears as if he isn’t going to say anything.

“Alright,” you agree. “Thank you, Atsumu.”

You bid everyone a good night before heading out the door with Atsumu and that’s when the disappointment truly settles in. As you head down the flight of stairs to the first floor of the building, all that runs through your head is: “Maybe Kuroo doesn’t like me. Maybe I am reading into Bokuto’s third-wheeling remark too much. Maybe I shouldn’t bring it up. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Well, don’t you look let down,” Atsumu chimes in, interrupting your thoughts the moment the two of you step into the cool night air.

“What do you mean?” you inquire, as you both start walking briskly down the streets towards your place.

“You know he has a massive crush on you.”

“Who?”

“Kuroo, duh,” Atsumu points out as if it’s the most obvious thing.

You suddenly stop in your tracks, and under the dimness of the streetlight, you turn to face Atsumu and assert, “No, he doesn’t.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes and sighs, “Y/N, is it really not obvious to you? Kuroo is completely and totally head over heels for you.”

Bonus:

“Kuroo, for someone so smart, you are kind of a dumbass sometimes,” Bokuto groans the moment you and Atsumu leave the apartment.

“Yeah, I kind have to agree,” Akaashi admits with a shrug before popping some popcorn into his mouth.

“Definitely,” Osamu concurs as he shakes his head.

“Huh?!” Kuroo screeches, as he gapes at his friends in confusion. “What are you all calling me a dumbass for?!”

“Wasn’t it obvious that ‘Tsumu was trying to make you jealous?” Osamu says with a narrowed gaze.

“Jealous?! What was he trying to make me jealous of?!” Kuroo asks as he endeavors to act like he didn’t know what the trio was referring to. However, the blush creeping up his neck indicates that he knows exactly what they’re talking about.

“Atsumu was flirting with Y/N. We thought that it would help you confess your feelings towards Y/N,” Bokuto explains slowly and cautiously, afraid of how his roommate would react. He really didn’t want to be yelled at for meddling in Kuroo’s love life, especially after the headache-inducing exam he had earlier that day.

“I don’t like Y/N!” Kuroo proclaims, even though his face is now a bright red.

“Yeah, you do,” Bokuto, Akaashi and Osamu respond in unison.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurō #haikyuu x reader

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