ghettooo

[mycological-mariner]

Sometimes you gotta be careful listening to the Aubreyad audiobooks in public coz you’ll hear the line ‘her francus bancus’ said aloud by a completely sincere Englishman and lose it

[laundrybiscuits]

(wait for the season to come back to me tag)

Steve doesn’t realize until they’re already inside that for some reason or another, Eddie’s never been in his room before.

“Is that,” Eddie says. He presses his lips together in a line. “Uh. That looks a lot like…my old guitar.”

Steve winces. “I mean, it’s a Mockingbird, not a Warlock.”

“That’s really creepy,” he says. “You know that, right?” He doesn’t sound mad, but Steve can’t really tell.

“Sorry,” says Steve.

The thing is, it hadn’t felt creepy at the time. He’d wanted to learn to play, and he hadn’t had any idea what kind of guitars were good, and the guy at the store—Antony—had kept asking him questions he didn’t know how to answer about what kind of music he’d be playing and what kind of sound he was looking for.

Finally, Antony had sighed and told him to pick something that he liked the look and feel of. “You gotta have a connection with your instrument, dude,” Antony had said. “Best way to make sure you actually practice enough to get good. Find an instrument you can fall in love with.”

Steve still hadn’t really known what he was looking for, but there was only one guitar on the wall that reminded him of Eddie’s. So Steve had forked over almost a whole month’s wages for a secondhand guitar with sharp angles and a black cherry finish, and then he’d spent the next few years practicing pretty regularly, hooked up to his tiny bedroom amp with his headphones in so the neighbors don’t complain. He doesn’t really perform, but he’s joined in on some jam sessions around Chicago, and he thinks he’s not bad. He’ll never be Eddie, but he’s not bad.

“I haven’t played in ten years,” says Eddie.

And—Steve feels so stupid, then. Obviously they weren’t going to give Eddie a guitar when he was locked up. Probably didn’t even think about it.

“Do you want to?” he says, gesturing to the Mockingbird. He keeps it hooked up to the amp, even though he doesn’t play every day.

Eddie drops to sit cross-legged on the floor by the guitar stand and flutters his fingers across the strings, too light to make them shiver. He closes his hand and drops it back into his lap.

“Nah,” he says. “Rather hear you play something, rockstar.”

So Steve flicks on the amp, and slings the guitar strap over his shoulders before deciding that actually, he can’t do this if he’s standing and Eddie’s looking up at him from the floor. He sits on the bed and tries to decide what to play.

“Any time now,” says Eddie.

Not anything metal. That would feel like crossing a line. Maybe something more like Eddie would expect from Steve, but Steve isn’t sure what Eddie expects from Steve, nowadays. He tries to think: what would Eddie know? What would Eddie think Steve knows?

He starts picking out a few notes in a minor key, because that seems to fit with the unsettled feeling he’s got in his shoulders. He doesn’t have a plan, but he keeps going until it resolves into something he knows the words to, and he starts singing along quietly.

He only realizes how fucked-up it is, the choice he’s made, as he’s singing there never seems to be enough time to do the things you wanna do, once you find ‘em. But he thinks it would be so much worse to stop now, so he has to keep going. He tries his best to just play it, not perform it. Delivers dreams that had never come true like he’s singing about the damn weather report.

When Steve finally looks up, pitch-black tear tracks are smeared across Eddie's cheeks, but he’s not making any effort to cover his face. He's just looking right at Steve, not wearing any particular expression.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters in a low exhale. Seems like he’s always going to be apologizing to Eddie.

“Don’t be.” Eddie sounds almost normal. Maybe a little hoarse. “It’s a good song. You’re, um. A good musician. Got a great voice.”

“Thanks,” says Steve.

“I’ve got to. I’m gonna go wash up,” says Eddie, and leaves.

[3wisellamas]

Giant Sweet Cap’n Cakes Headcanon Masterpost!

(Fun fact, I thought most of these up while on one REALLY long hike.  ^^;  You can tell I fell for these three pretty hard.)

Music:

-I like the idea that, while the three all share a love of hip hop, glitch hop, electronic music in general, and a little lo-fi for chill times, they all have different tastes outside of those.  (Meaning if you pass them the aux cord, they WILL argue!)

-Sweet's actually the biggest audiophile of the group, with by far the most eclectic tastes; he will literally put together playlists that go from dubstep to heavy metal to classical to rap to vaporwave to even country.  The others don't really get it, but they're cool with whatever he puts on, and learn a lot of new music from him!

-He also owns an electric guitar, which he just plugs into himself to use as an amp and plays early in the morning to wake the others up if needed (he's the early riser and the other two are night owls...)

-Cap'n's definitely got a more narrow focus than the other two; he likes rap and also R&B, jazz, and even a little swing/electro swing.  He's also been caught more than once listening to cheesy romantic pop songs, claiming he's just into them for their potential madamoizel-attracting uses but really he's just a sappy romantic.

-He can also rap, very well in fact, and gets Sweet to beatbox while he freestyles. 

-Heck, he's just got a good singing voice in general, helped by having a built-in autotune, and dominates at karaoke!

-K_K also has a really broad range, but stays more towards the electronic end of the spectrum -- melodic dubstep, synthpop, disco, trance, chiptune, DnB, even occasionally puts on straight-up ambient spa music to chill out to (the only genre the other two will NOT tolerate.)

-K_K has also, in the past, set up entire mini-raves just by themselves, complete with glowsticks and everything, while Cap'n and Sweet were out doing whatever.  They were...not pleased, when they got back, mostly because they weren't invited.  All three got to have one together eventually though.  

-Physical media is king in their shop; if it's not on a CD, cassette tape, or a vinyl record (or an 8-track, though they have to dig out their old player for it), they will refuse to play it, and might even ask you to leave.  "MP3" is an extremely dirty word to them.

-(In fact, they don't get along too well with the MP3 player-headed robots elsewhere in the city.)

-They are indeed always listening to music on physical media as well -- K_K and Cap'n are their own CD players (though Cap'n's one of those models that's also got a built-in FM radio), while Sweet has a straight-up Walkman.    

-(He's also the group's cassette champion, claiming his media of choice is superior to CDs because you can record music on BOTH sides of the tape!  The other two just don't have the heart to point out that each side only holds half as much music as a CD, and you don't even have to rewind those...)

-Jury's still out on Hit Clips.  Cap'n and Sweet think they're just toys, but K_K genuinely collects and appreciates them and treats them like actual music (it helps that they are only around four seconds long!)

-Believe it or not, the headphones are only decoration, all three actually just...listen to their music entirely within their own heads, though they can also switch to playing it externally on their speakers as well.  Perks of being robots!  Though, sometimes K_K has his internal volume up too high, and misses things that other people say because of it.

-Sweet also has an input port, and connects himself to his turntable to act as the speakers!  The other two are WAY too embarrassed to ask if they can use it as well.

-Sweet can play almost any instrument you throw at him, as long as it's not a woodwind (Surprisingly, he can do brass, since those work on vibration rather than air!).  He prefers his guitar or violin when he isn't spinning records on his turntable.  Where the other two just enjoy music, he's the actual trained musician.

Voice headcanons:

-Sweet:  Kind of deep, bass-y, lots of reverb, a slight tinny audio distortion to it like a low-quality recording that becomes much more pronounced when he gets upset or starts shouting.  And since he's a speaker, you can literally feel the vibrations he makes when he's speaking!

-Cap'n:  Scout from TF2.  I am sorry, but I absolutely cannot get that out of my head for him.  XD  However, he's actually putting that voice on as an "accent" of sorts, his real voice is actually super autotune-y like K_K's, and it comes out whenever he gets flustered, his pitch only getting higher and higher as it gets worse...

-K_K:  Pure autotune, he can just do whatever the hell he wants with his voice -- pitch, tone, whatever, and while he tends to keep it a little higher he can and does change it to fit his mood!  He often has a completely different voice every day, but the others are used to it.  He also just straight-up vocalizes sound effects (like, the kind that make you go "How did you just make that sound with your mouth?!") and can mimic other people perfectly (though the slight mechanical distortion does give it away).  There are absolutely no rules when it comes to K_K's voice.

-They harmonize perfectly whenever they sing together! 

Sweet:

-I like to think Sweet's actually the brains of the group; like, not SMART, he just holds their one collective braincell most often.  He does any technical work when they're building stuff, like soldering circuits or the occasional programming, and even handles a lot of the actual business operations and pays the bills.  The other two also like to follow his lead when it comes to rebellion plans, even if he’s not the official leader.

-That said, though?  It's balanced out by him being rather hotheaded and having the shortest temper by a lot.  There are REASONS why he's not usually out selling bagels with the others -- he's unfortunately prone to some more "extreme" sales tactics, like hurling half their stock at random passersby until they finally agree to buy some.  On the plus side, he's always the first to step up to defend the gang from anything that dares to harm them, and is always on guard.

-He can also hold a heck of a grudge -- don't ever get on his bad side!  Cap'n and K_K are mostly immune to this though, if he gets upset with them he works through it by the end of the day.  It helps that they can all hug it out.

-He's a bit of a perfectionist, often working overtime to try and get everything they build exactly right.  He can get really frustrated when things don't work out the way he plans, or when he can't make sense of a problem, or when Cap'n and K_K are goofing off instead of doing their part, and needs to go blast some loud music and blow off steam.

-He does have a really tough time keeping his balance, since his head is a bit heavier than the rest of his body, but he takes tripping over his own feet constantly in stride.  The biggest problem he has is with dancing -- while he'll join in with the others on occasion, he can't match their more acrobatic moves and sticks more to actually PLAYING the music they're dancing to.

-He's also really, really unlucky, just in general.  He actually considers the other two his good luck charms, since they help him out whenever he trips or gets into a bad spot!

-He's the fashionista of the group, surprisingly.  It's difficult for him to find clothes that fit his body, so he tends to get a little creative with it and has a whole closet full of different stuff!  And since Cap'n is roughly the same size they'll occasionally swap jackets.

Cap’n:

-Cap'n actually has managed to score a handful of dates with girls in the past!  However, NONE of them went well, and only one actually made it to the second date (only to break up right in the middle of it), so he always ends up returning home heartbroken and in tears.  Sweet and K_K, by this point just ready for it whenever they hear that he's going out that night, always dry him off before he shorts himself out, take him to bed and cuddle with him (platonically, I don't see them as brothers but I also don't see them as having that conversation until Cap'n's ready, which he clearly is NOT), remind him that it doesn't hurt forever and he isn't unlovable and that he'll find someone eventually, etc.

-They have sat him down multiple times to try and gently suggest to Cap'n that he might just not be into women?  And that he’s actually turning them off by trying so hard?  To which he's always just like "No, of course not.  I'm straight.  Love the ladies.  Totally.  Oh no they didn't catch me checkin' out that one dude earlier did they?  Is that what this is about?!"

-(Basically, Cap'n is just a hopeless romantic in love with the idea of being in love, but is absolutely clueless as to how it works or what he actually wants, and his best buds are always there to catch him when he falls.  ;v; )

-The glasses are prescription -- he's SUPER nearsighted, a hardware glitch he refuses to fix.  Sometimes when he's working on something close up he'll take them off, panicking when he can't find them afterwards, only to have the others point out that they're just on his head.  He’s also got non-tinted glasses, but you will not catch him DEAD wearing those unless it’s an absolute emergency.

-This dude is SUPREMELY insecure with himself.  Like, his rather questionable fixation on romance aside, he basically runs off of others' validation, the "cool" persona he's spent much of his life building up being how he hides the fact that he isn't really sure who he is, or what he wants to do with his life, or what he's even good for -- the others have learned to check on him now and then whenever he hides away in the back of the shop, since he can slip into some pretty dark places when left alone to sulk.  It took a long time for him to open up even to them to share his feelings, and sometimes still has doubts about whether they or anyone else really care about him as more than just The Smooth One...

-He's the only one of the three to actually enjoy the occasional silence, especially when he's trying to think, or whenever he's upset.  So, his headphones also serve a dual purpose -- they're noise-cancelling!

-He's the video guy, carrying around a small camcorder and constantly trying to record the group's activities, to put together into music videos!  He also just likes to record himself doing stupid stunts for posterity, though K_K just takes these and makes (affectionate) blooper reels.

-Cap'n is not his real name, similar to K_K.  However, unlike K_K, he refuses to say what it is, just that it's embarrassing.

K_K:

-K_K has a bad habit of just completely zoning out when he gets into his music, getting completely lost in the groove and needing to be pulled back to reality.  It's not a bad thing during jam sessions, but at work, or in the middle of a battle...not so much.

-He kind of needs to have some kind of music going at all times -- silence drives him absolutely CRAZY!  Though, because he gets distracted by his own music, he then misses out on entire conversations, only tuning back in towards the end.  Sometimes the other two have to repeat or summarize what they just said for him.

-He knows sign language, and taught the others to use it.  They're able to communicate reasonably well no matter how loud their shop gets, or on days when K_K isn't able to form words properly (he's just shy, and even when he isn't he gets tongue-tied a LOT).

-He's easily the best dancer of the three, and uses his extendable body to get really creative with his moves!  He even knows a little ballroom, somehow, which he'll pull out sometimes to make the others laugh.

-(Seriously, K_K CANNOT stand to see Sweet or Cap'n not smiling.  He'll do anything to keep the group's spirits up, usually cracking jokes during a scrap project or doing little favors, and they appreciate all his efforts!)

-K_K has the WORST sleep cycle, ever.  If you let him, he will stay up all night working or partying, finally going to bed at 6AM, and will then sleep until 6PM if the others don't wake him up at some point.  If they know he was up really late they'll let him sleep in a little, but he's often pretty sleep-deprived and running solely on sugar and caffeine, which doesn't help his natural loopiness.  

-He is a VERY physical guy.  Seriously, he will just scoop up and hold Sweet or Cap'n like a cat every five minutes; at first they were just like "Oh.  Okay.  We're hugging now I guess," but after a while they got more used to it and even anticipate when K_K is going to do it.  And he also initiates tons of snuggles and gives piggyback rides whenever one of his bandmates (usually Sweet) requests.  

-K_K actually scrapbooks, collecting pictures and little mementos of places he and the others have gone and things they've done.  After the library fountain is sealed, he pulls them out to show everyone else from Cyber City and reminisce about home.

-It's very hard to make K_K angry, since he tends to stay super chill and brushes off almost everything.  But, on those very, very rare occasions when something does get under his metal outer casing, he'll go full-on silent treatment, not speaking to anyone for up to a week as he sulks and stomps around the junk shop, and even refuses to play any music!  And no amount of sweets or hugs or cheering up will bring him out of it, either; the other two have learned to just wait him out and let him have his space, letting him come to them when he's finally ready to talk about it.

Misc:

-Though all three love everything sweet, K_K's the only one who really goes overboard with it, making whole meals out of candy.  Sweet, ironically enough, actually prefers more salty/savory snacks, while the less is said about Cap'n's hot sauce addiction, the better.

-Okay, actually, I will say more about it.  Cap'n loves spicy food in general, and literally drinks tabasco sauce right from the bottle.  However, he's got a bad habit of daring himself to eat hotter and hotter stuff, ESPECIALLY if someone is watching, and can easily get in WAY over his head before begging for milk.

-They also all totally drink battery acid like Queen.

-Heck, being both Darkners and robots, they can really eat literally anything.  Normal food, milk, oil, batteries, gallons of pure sugar, toothpaste, moss, glitter (NEVER let K_K get hold of any though, he gets lost in the sauce), broken glass, etc, and of course their own deep-fried CDs.  Only thing they can't do is water, since, you know, robots.

-With a lot of the aesthetics of Cyber City being close to turn-of-the millennium and early 2000s (CDs and boomboxes, popup ads, wired mice, Queen theorized to be one of those see-through iMacs, EVERYTHING about Spamton), I like the idea that the boys DO NOT have smartphones, and if you handed them one they'd have no clue how to use it or what to do with it.  But they do have cell phones:  Sweet's got an old flip phone covered in stickers (courtesy of K_K), Cap'n splurged for one of those that slide open and with a camera (he set his background to a tiny, grainy photo of the three of them!), and K_K has one of those indestructible Nokia bricks, that Sweet got him after he kept breaking all his other ones.  They can all text, but that's about as high-tech as they get.

-Same with tablets or newer computers in general, they might share one tiny netbook at most.  Cap’n never remembers to log out of his Dark World dating profile, so the others will snoop or post embarrassing things to it.

-They're really, really durable, even without milk -- they're made of 90s plastic and electronics, so it takes a LOT to take one of them down!  Plus, they regularly repair each other back at the shop (it took a LONG time for them to gain enough trust to physically open and work on each other), so as long as at least one's left to drag the other two to safety they'll be just fine.

-However, if they get splashed with water, caught in the rain, or worse, drowned, they will short out, or shut down on the spot to prevent damage.  Once they completely dry out, though, they'll start right back up, no worse for wear.  When only one of them gets waterlogged the other two will break out the hair dryers to dry them out faster, or even pop them into the oven in a pan of rice like an iPod that got dropped in the toilet...

Finally, backstory?

-Cap'n and K_K met first -- maybe both as new recruits to another, much less savory gang of music equipment robots, and bonded as a result of being put upon by the more established members (Cap'n probably even had to defend K_K more than once when his inattentiveness got him into trouble!)  But, they both had enough one day, and decided to break off and form their own thing, making music and selling CD bagels to support themselves.

-Sweet, meanwhile, has the complete opposite background, coming from a rich and important family of musicians in Cyber City who regularly entertained Queen in her mansion (hence why he always used to get sweets from her!)  But, he was kind of the black sheep, preferring his own style of music, and decided to strike out on his own as a street musician instead.

-They met when Cap'n and K_K accidentally set up to sell bagels on Sweet's usual corner, and he battled them to reclaim his turf.  But, they were evenly-matched (even two-to-one; Sweet's definitely the strongest of the trio!), and impressed each other with both their fighting and musical skills, so Sweet decided to join their tiny group, and thus Sweet Cap'n Cakes was formed.  

-After the whole situation with Queen is resolved, SCC turns their rebellion into an anti-DRM kind of thing?  Nobody can hold back the music, man!

[goddesswritings]

“Can I slap her for you?” - Corpse Husband | Part One

Title: “Can I slap her for you?” – Part One

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader

Summary: Being stuck living with the queen of YouTube drama and partying during the pandemic has seriously worn down your patience. Meeting Pokimane has changed your life for the better, making Among Us a pivotal part of your life.

Word Count: 5.3k

I’m always writing so much plot! I hope you like it. Part Two is in the works.

********

Credit to PIC owner!

This pandemic was hell for you. Being stuck in this apartment with your bitch of a sister was not something you would wish on even your enemy.

When you first moved to LA with her, things were fine, and you got along. She had a budding YouTube career, and you were working a good job. Pretty quickly, she’d hired you as her editor since that was a daily part of your real job, you happily agreed because it meant you could get money on the side and still work.

Your sister was mainly a beauty YouTuber but last year she gained over 3 million followers when she started a series where she would interview people in other lines of entertainment and then test it out. Since then, she’d become a horror to live with.

Now with the pandemic, you’d been furloughed from you day job and working full time for your diva of a sister. She had only been getting worse and worse. Being stuck with her was crap, especially since she was selfish and still went out to party and do collabs with people like there wasn’t a massive virus out there.

“I hope you finished the editing I needed done.” Olivia, your sister, asked as she shut the front door.

You were just finishing up the edits from your spot on the couch. “Yeah, I did it while you were out risking lives.”

“Shut the hell up. I’m an adult and I can do what I want.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Even when it’s killing hundreds of thousands of people?” You were so sick of her attitude. She has no care in the world for anyone but herself. In the last month, her name had been posted all over the commentary YouTubers channels. Slamming her for partying while the world dealt with Covid.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Those people are not my problem at all. If they are so afraid, they should just stay home.”

“Why are you so selfish?” Her behavior was completely out of hands these days.

“Do I need to remind you that I pay you?” She sent you a glare before heading off to her room. You grumbled and threw your head back. There was no way you could handle her.

Stressing out over her was no good, so you decided to take your laptop back to your room and play some games to calm yourself down. Among Us was one of those games that allowed to you just play and forget the stress. You booted up the game and joined some random lobbies. It was hard to find good games because you usually ran into some sour players who couldn’t just play the game without causing drama.

A few rounds in, your phone buzzed, indicating a text. You exited the current game, one of the imposters had already killed you anyway, and picked up the phone. There was a text from Poki. The two of you had become quick friends when she appeared on your sisters series but she clicked more with you since you were more of a gamer.

P: Hey Y/n, what are you doing currently?

It was an unexpected text because you had been fairly sure Poki had a stream tonight.

Y/n: Nothing since I just finished editing my selfish sisters video. What’s up?

She knew very well how horrible Olivia was and she’d been the one person who you could talk to about it. You appreciated her for it.

Poki: Damn, did she go to another party?

Y/n: Yup, she sure did. Then threatened my job when I called her out on it.

Poki: Wow, not cool. Hey, so you know how I’m streaming tonight?

Y/n: Yeah.

Poki: So I had everyone set up for the game but last minute someone dropped out. We need one more person and I know you’re amazing in Among Us. Would you join our game?

This was a surprise. You weren’t a YouTuber or a streamer, so for her to ask you, meant she really was desperate.

Y/n: Sure, I’m free. Who’s playing tonight?

Poki: Rae, Lily, Ethan, Mark, Felix, Toast, Sykkuno, and Corpse.

Wow, that was a packed game full of some pretty big names. Your nerves kicked up at the thought of being in a game with these amazing people.

Y/n: Sweet!

Poki: I will send you the discord so you can join the chat and the game code.

Y/n: Thanks.

She instantly sent you the links and you got your self set up with your headphones. Poki connected you into the discord call.

“Hey, everyone welcome my good friend, Y/n. She’s the one who will fill in on the open spot tonight.” She introduced you to the group.

A chorus of hello’s was heard. You knew Rae, so she jumped right into welcoming you.

Pushing the nerves away, you managed to little hello. Your voice was softer than you’d intended. Damn nerves.

“Guys! Y/n is so good in Among Us. Her skills rival Corpse’s.” Rae gushed. You’d played a game with Rae and Poki and a few of the other girls, but no one had been streaming.

“Whaddup baby.” The deep voice of Corpse said. His voice was something else.

“Don’t make her too nervous there, man.” Felix commented which made the other guys laugh.

“Oh no worries, I’m not nervous.” You said even though you really were nervous. You switched into the game and typed in the code Poki had sent you. Immediately the game lobby popped up, filled with everyone who was on the call. Your character popped onto the screen and took the white color.

“Good to know. I look forward to being an imposter with you.” Corpse said making your cheeks heat up just a little.

“You really need to watch out for her.” Lily said making you giggle. She was right. You were a deceitful imposter.

You quickly changed your hat to the halo, making you match your chosen username, Angel.

“Look how fitting her character is.” Mark commented. “Is that an indication of how you will be?”

“Perhaps.” You were starting to calm your nerves. “You will just have to find out.”

“Okay, let’s get started.” Poki said as the countdown started on screen. You muted your mic. The screen flashed the crew-mate title, and you felt a little more relieved. You hated starting as an imposter.

The map you were in was Polus, your favorite. The first thing you did, was the navigation task before also doing keys. Nearly everyone was there, which meant the two imposters were faking the tasks. After that, you ran off entering the building that housed electrical and o2. You looked around for tasks.

“I have my eye on you, Angel.” Felix said as he came into o2.

You unmuted your mic. “Good, then you can watch me teach you how to do tasks.” You sassed, making the group laugh.

“Damn, I already like her.” Ethan said, getting sounds of approval from Sykkuno, Mark, and Corpse.

“Stop simping and play the game.” Poki commented, making you laugh.

Leaving o2, you ran outside to check the weather nodes. Felix was still following you closely. He was convinced you were an Imposter.

“Why is this guy following me around?” You asked, trying to run from him.

“Felix, what are you doing?” Rae asked as she popped up beside you.

“Making sure she’s not an imposter.” He sounded innocent.

“Well I’m not. Now go do your tasks.” Once again you ran from his character and entered the office. You passed Corpse’s black character before heading in, to do card swipe.

Suddenly a body was reported. Felix’s body.

“Whoa, okay, Y/n did you kill Felix?” Toast asked.

“What? No? I left him to go do my tasks.” You defended.

“I can confirm she was in office with me. I watched her do card swipe.” Corpse added.

The thing was, you passed him as he was leaving the office, and he definitely didn’t stay to watch you. He was headed in the direction you had left Felix and Rae. So, both were sus.

“Okay, then Rae where were you?” Sykkuno questioned.

“I left Felix by weapons. I was headed to lab.” You couldn’t decipher a lie from her.

“Hmmm, okay. Skip then?” Ethan offered. The group agreed.

Once back in the game, you decided to head to labs to find the rest of your tasks. Sykkuno followed you but broke off to go through decontamination. You did your scan in peace before another body was reported. This time it had been both Mark and Lily.

“Any sus?” Ethan asked.

“No, I was in electrical.” Toast said.

“I went to o2.” Poki added.

“Y/n, where were you?” Toast questioned. You were sure he thought you were an imposter.

“I was in the lab doing my scan, which I never got to finish.” You hated being interrupted mid-task.

“Anyone see her go there?”

“I passed her while I headed to decontamination.” Sykkuno vouched for you.

“Sure but the body was right outside the lab. She could have gone back to kill Mark after you were gone.”

“But I didn’t. I was doing my task.” You repeated with a little smile. You loved this game.

“Sure. I don’t believe you.” Toast was a hard one to convince.

“She didn’t do it. I entered lab and she was doing her scan.” Corpse spoke up. Again he was covering for you when you know he was not in Lab with you.

“Okay. I guess we skip?” Poki said. Everyone agreed but when it was done, you had two votes but three had skipped, so you had been spared luckily. Toast for sure voted for you, you had no clue who else did but it didn’t matter.

Back in the game, you headed back to lab to finish your scan. Once done, you headed to decontamination, then to the specimen room for a task. As you entered, you found Corpse.

“Hey Corpse, having fun with your tasks?” You asked as you went to your own task.

“I sure am.” He stated before his character was running out of the room and up to the lab. Once your task was done, you had finished all your tasks and headed back to Admin. You entered office to find a dead Sykkuno, so you hit report.

“That was for sure a self-report.” Toast quickly said.

“It wasn’t, but okay.” You said shaking your head. Toast was so sus on you all game.

“I’m sus of Toast.” Rae said while Corpse and Poki agreed with her.

“Wait, Ethan is dead too. Damn, these Imposters got around.” Toast commented. “By the way, I am not an Imposter. Y/n is.”

“She’s not. I have seen her do her tasks all game.” Corpse was quick to come to your rescue. It was sweet how he was vouching for you all game.

“Sure, I’m voting Y/n.” Toast said as his ‘I Voted’ badge popped up.

You decided you were going to vote off Toast because he was getting on your nerves. Apparently the others were feeling the same because everyone else voted off Toast as well. His character was launched into the Lava. Toast was NOT an Imposter.

Back in the game, you ran around, just seeing if you could spot anyone being sus before Poki was killed. Straight after the defeat title showed, and the Imposters were revealed to be none other than Rae and Corpse.

Everyone dropped back into the lobby.

“I told you I wasn’t an Imposter.” You boasted.

“Sorry Y/n, I should have believed you.” Toast said.

“No worries. But hey, Corpse and Rae had plenty of chances to kill me, but they didn’t. Why?” It was interesting to you.

Rae laughed. “I didn’t want to kill you right in the beginning of your first game with us. You deserved to have some fun before you got killed.”

“Well thank you.” It was sweet of Rae to do that.

“I didn’t want to kill an Angel. It wouldn’t be right.” Corpse stated with a cute laugh afterwards.

Felix groaned. “But you have no issue killing anyone else.”

“It be like that sometimes.” Ethan stated which had you in stitches, as well as the rest of the group. “Okay, let’s begin another round.” He added.

The next few games were fun and interesting. You were always a crew member, but someone was always sus on you. But no matter what, Corpse would vouch for you. Sometimes his character would follow you around, do tasks with you. It was pretty freaking cute and clear to see the man with the alluring deep voice had taken a liking to you. It was sweet.

“One more game?” Poki asked after a slew of other games. Everyone agreed. She started the game and after the countdown, the screen flashed that you were finally an Imposter. Your fellow Imposter was of course Corpse. It was only natural.

You and he teamed up and killed many of the others. Starting with Rae and Lily, moving onto Toast and Sykkuno. Then someone finally reported the bodies.

“Four bodies already?” Mark stated as the red x’s showed up on their icons.

“Damn, someone is having fun.” You said, pretending like it wasn’t you who had done half of the killing.

“I saw Poki headed into Electrical where Lily and Rae were.” Corpse said, sounding genuine as always. He was so good at Imposter. His ability to lie was excellent.

“Sure I went to Electrical, but I left after fixing the lights.” Poki said.

“I don’t know. You seem sus.” Ethan said. “I saw you enter lab, and after I saw Sykunno’s body right before someone reported Lily and Rae’s.”

“I swear, it’s not me. I was just doing my tasks. How could I kill four people in that short amount of time?”

“It’s possible. You could have vented.” Corpse was right too.

“Guys, please.” She pleaded as everyone put in their votes. Nearly everyone had voted for Poki and her character was launched into the lava, only to show she was not an Imposter.

“Sorry Poki.” Ethan said before everyone hopped back into the game.

Once again, you and Corpse were teamed up, but you saw Mark head one way while Ethan was going another. Almost silently, the two of you decided to split up and take them. You followed Mark into O2, trailing him into the tree. No one was around, so you killed him before quickly venting away from there. Making sure no one was around when you resurfaced. Corpse must have killed Ethan because the Victory screen popped up for the two of you.

“Damn, I should have known this was a team effort between Corpse and the Angel. You’re far from an Angel when you’re an imposter.” Mark complained.

“That’s part of the thrill.” It really was. You loved being able to shock people that way.

“Good job, partner. You’re a great Imposter like me. We need to team up more often.” Corpse’s words made you feel all warm. It was insanely fun being Imposter with him. Your combined skills made things that much better.

“Okay, I think it’s time to call it a night. Thank you so much for joining us, Y/n.” Poki yawned to show it was getting late.

“Of course. I loved playing with all of you. It was much better than playing with randoms.”

“I get that. Randoms can be very annoying.” Sykkuno agreed. “It was so good to meet you, Y/n. I hope you join more games so I can be an Imposter with you!”

You loved how excited he sounded. “I guess we all want a chance to be Imposter with her.” Felix stated what everyone else was thinking.

“Hey, no one steals my Imposter buddy.” Corpse spoke up, which once again had you feeling some kind of good way.

“Corpse, you’re being such a simp.” Rae laughed, which made everyone else go nuts.

You all bid your goodbyes before you exited the game and the discord call. You found there was a huge smile on your face after that fun you had just had with Poki and her friends. They were all super welcoming of you, despite not knowing a thing about you.

Poki: Thank you for playing with us. I hope you had fun! You didn’t mind being on my stream?

Y/n: I had so much fun, everyone was so good to me. Also, not at all!

Poki: Good because my chat loved you! They couldn’t stop gushing about how much they loved you. It was so cute.

This was not something you had expected. Her stream had never met you, so for them to like you playing a game with the group, that was nice.

Y/n: Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting that. That’s so sweet!

Poki: You also seemed to get Corpse simping for you. Sykkuno is super jealous.

You laughed when you read that.

Y/n: Sykkuno doesn’t have to be jealous. It was a one-time thing, and he can have Corpse back in the next game.

Sure, you wanted it to be more than a one-time thing, but you weren’t going to let your hopes get too high. Poki had many streamer friends, who would get their streams way more viewers than you ever could.

Poki: I wouldn’t count on that. We’re definitely going to use you for more games. You’re one of us now, even if you don’t stream.

Her words warmed your heard. Poki had been one of the very few people you had made friends with when you moved to Cali with your sister and your friendship was only 10 months old. It was nice to have someone who wanted to include you in on the things she was doing.

Y/n: Are you sure? Because I would hate to be taking someone more interesting’s spot.

Poki: You shut that mouth. The group loved you and we’re all looking forward to playing with you again.

Y/n: Okay if that’s what they want.

Poki: They do, now get some sleep. I know you’ve been overworking yourself for your sister.

Y/n: You would be right. Thank you for the fun night, Poki. You get some sleep as well.

Poki: 😊

You liked her message before deciding it was indeed time for bed. Editing those videos did take energy out of you, especially since your sister would review and have you re-edit the things she didn’t like. Not fun at all.

****

The next month passed by with Poki inviting you to more games with her and her friends. Most of those games included Corpse, who’d taken a liking to you. The last few games, he’d been bugging you to tell him who you were and how you met Poki, but you were keeping that a secret. You really didn’t want him or the others knowing you were the older sister of selfish party girl Olivia Bella.

Your sister had found out you’d been playing the game with Poki and her friends and decided she was going to say some shit.

“How did you get Poki to let you play with her and the other streamers?” Olivia said with clear distaste towards you.

You shrugged. “She just asked me to step in for someone one day and now they enjoy playing with me.”

She laughed obnoxiously. “That such a joke. I needed that laugh, thank you.”

You clenched your fists, trying to contain your anger against your sister. She was really grating on your nerves these days.

“Damn, I would do anything to play with Corpse. His voice is so hot.” She muttered looking deranged.

“He’s much more than his voice you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s whatever I want him to be. God, I bet he’s so sexy behind that screen.”

“Please stop, he’s my friend and talk like that is uncomfortable.”

She cackled. “Corpse is not your friend, you loser. He just tolerates you like the rest of that group. I bet Poki only asked you to join out of pity.”

Her words slapped you in the face and threatened to strangle you. It was unbelievable that your younger sister was really acting like this to you.

“Why are you like this to me?” You questioned in all seriousness.

“Because you annoy me. Isn’t it obvious. I meant if I had the money, I would have moved here without you. Living with you is the worst. You know you’re like the most boring person in the world?”

The insults just kept on coming. She truly didn’t like you and it felt horrible. Family wasn’t supposed to be like this. “I get it, thank you.” You walked away before she could say anything else, she was horrible to you.

Her words made you sad. The only thing that could cheer you up was the fact that Poki had invited you to another game. It was something you needed after that conversation with your sister.

Poki: Hey girl, this kills me to do but Sean invited someone else to play tonight. Someone he said was eager to play with us. I’m so sorry.

This was simply perfect. The one time you craved interaction with the Among Us crew, they added someone else to the game. Of course it was always a possibility, but it didn’t stop from making you upset.

A couple of tears streamed down your face before you wiped them away. You wouldn’t let this get to you.

Y/n: No, please don’t worry. I understand it is always a possibility. Have a good stream!

Poki: I think you should know the person joining us is your sister. I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but they didn’t really believe me. I’m so sorry.

Your sister was the reason you have been replaced for tonight. Perfect. Of course it was her. She always took the things you liked, away from you.

Y/n: Please stop apologizing, I completely understand.

Poki: Should I tell them she’s your sister?

Y/n: No, please don’t let them know that.

Poki: Okay, please know we will miss you in tonights stream.

Doubt filled you. After reading those words. There was no way they would miss you in the game tonight. It was clear you didn’t bring in viewers for the streams, but your sister would be able to do that without any issues. Now your night was truly ruined. Thankfully, you could just lay in bed and sulk all you wanted.

The bedroom door burst open. “Hey, can you set up this game for me? I assume you know I’m playing Among Us with the crew tonight. Told you they didn’t care if you were there or not.” Did she ever stop this shit?

“Why should I help you?” You grumbled, glaring up at your blonde-haired sister. She looked like she was dressed for another party, not an off the cuff stream.

“Well, I pay you and if you want that to continue, you will help me set up the game and stream.” Her hanging your only source of income over your head was really shitty.

You growled but got out of bed, passing by her in a haste. You entered her office and quickly got to work setting up the stream and discord. Then you showed her how to load the game. She just nodded, not looking happy at all.

“Have fun.” You sounded bitter but at this point, you couldn’t hide it.

“Oh I’m going to have so much fun with them. It’s going to be so good, and maybe they will ask me to join them more often and they can stop faking their friendships with you.”

“Cool, good for you.” The audacity of this bitch. You left once you were sure it was set up correctly. She didn’t see, but you shot her the finger as you left. She was a bitch through and through.

You retreated to your room to sulk some more. This day was such a let down for you. Over the last month, you had really clicked with the Among Us group. Meeting more streamers as Poki had more games. They all seemed to like you, but your sister was probably right, they were just being nice because they could.

As you stared at your ceiling, you heard your sister talking and knew the stream had started. Groaning, you threw on some headphones and put on your playlist that was saved strictly for when you were sad. It helped to take your thoughts from the stressor at hand? And ease your mind.

****

Meanwhile, the stream was hell. Sean majorly regretted inviting Olivia onto it. To be fair, he was only being nice because the girl had been begging to join the game for a while now in his DM’s. But it was a huge regret with the way this woman was acting. She couldn’t even be Imposter without outing herself and the second Imposter.

“You guys know Y/n is my sister right?” She said offhandedly as they were waiting in the lobby for the next game.

“Wait what? Is that true?” Ludwig asked in disbelief. This woman was nothing like Y/n. She was a total ditz compared to Y/n.

“Of course it is. I have lived with her for twenty years now, I know a lot of dirt about her.” Hearing her say this angered Poki.

“Don’t go there, Olivia. Just play the game.” Poki didn’t want her to spill anything about her friend. It was messy that she would even want to.

Olivia sighed. “Awe but you would love this.”

“No, let’s just play the game.” Corpse was quick to cut her off.

“Come on Corpse, are you sure you don’t want to hear all the embarrassing things I know about her?” Everyone was quickly realizing just how messed up in the brain Olivia was.

“You do realize most of us are streaming this live?” Rae stated, sounding just as frustrated as Corpse felt.

“Please, let’s start the game.” He all but growled, wanting to shut this woman up. The game started and he pulled out his phone. He was going to finally get Poki to tell him Y/n’s instagram.

Corpse: I know you told me you couldn’t tell me what Y/n’s instagram is but please, can I get it now? Her sister is a fucking bitch.

He has so much more he wanted to say about Olivia and entitled attitude but making sure Y/n was okay was his number one priority.

Poki: She’s going to hate me if I do it.

Corpse: Please, this is important to me.

Poki: You owe me. Here’s her insta.

She sent him a link that led to a private instagram under the name Y/nY/l/n96. He requested to follow her.

Corpse: Thank you, let me know when to pay up.

Poki: Will do, now get into the game or Olivia is going to kill you. She’s imposter.

He got back into the game, hoping Y/n would accept his request.

****

After an hour of ‘sad girl hours’. You decided to do something that could help you not to focus on Olivia streaming in the other room.

Clicking instagram, you saw a notification. corpse_husband has requested to follow you. This was interesting. Either he’s smart enough to figure out who you are or Poki told him.

You accepted his follow and followed him back. He only had seven pictures, and of course there weren’t face pics. You admired him for keeping himself faceless to his fans. Now you hoped he wouldn’t bend to their pressure and reveal his face. Being faceless was good for him and his anxiety. The latest pics were his hand reveals he did for the fans, they made you giggle.

Corpse was good at keeping himself secret and you liked that. You did what you could to stay secret as well. Your Instagram profile picture was not even you, so no one would be able to point you out even if they knew your face. Also, you have hidden the account from Olivia, so she couldn’t send her fans to torment you.

As you scrolled Instagram, you received a DM. It was from the one and only Corpse Husband.

Corpse: This stream is hell without you tonight. Why did Sean have to invite her?

It made you feel a little better to see that Corpse was missing you in the stream tonight.

Y/n: That’s a question you will have to ask Sean. I was looking forward to playing Among Us with the group as well, but hey, it looks like they found someone who will bring in the views.

Corpse: Nope. She’s chasing away everyone’s viewers. Your sister is the worst. I see why you didn’t want us to know the two of you were related.

Your blood ran cold. How did he know that?

Y/n: How did you know she was my sister?

Corpse: She won’t shut up about it. No one can get her to stop. I’m sorry if you didn’t want us to know about this.

Of course, you should have known that Olivia was going to tell everyone that. She was also probably opening her mouth about so much other stuff.

Y/n: Well fuck. This sucks.

Corpse: Hey, don’t worry about it. No one is judging you for this, but we are wondering how you manage to handle her.

A soft giggle left your mouth.

Y/n: It’s not easy. I mean sure I’m the older sister, but she acts like the queen around here.

Corpse: Damn. Here we go again. Your sister is trying to start some drama.

Hearing this, you realized you had to do something about this. There was no way you could let her sit there and continue to mouth off about you or anyone else in her life.

Y/n: Brace yourself, I’m about to ruin her stream.

Corpse: Good luck!

It was time to put her in her place, you got up and headed to the utility closet by the front door of the apartment. The fuse box was located there. You opened it and found the switch for her office and clicked it off. It was half a second before a loud scream was heard.

In less than thirty seconds she was running out of the office with a livid look upon her face. “What the fuck have you done?” She screamed while stomping up to you.

“I heard you were talking shit about me and decided to end it.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“I can say whatever I want. The group was enjoying it.” She tried to act smug.

You laughed in her face. “Do you ever not lie?”

“Do you ever stop being a bitter bitch?” The anger was clear, but you didn’t care.

“Oh fuck off. You were annoying them with your ridiculous bullshit. I completely saved your ass from making a fool of yourself.”

“I fucking hate you!” She stepped up to you. “I’m kicking you out. Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment.” The look on her face, showed she was serious about this.

“Fine.” Was all you said before you turned around and went back to your room, well your former room now. Pulling some bags out, you stuffed some clothes and important items into them. Once filled, you pulled on shoes and made sure you had what you needed until you could come get the rest of your stuff. Currently, you didn’t know how to feel about any of this, but you did need to get away from her.

PART TWO >>

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings:  None yet.  Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: Here we are everyone. This fic has been a long time in the making, but I’m pretty dang happy with it so far! I made Josh extra lovable and squishy for you all. I hope you enjoy! This fic is edited by the amazing and gorgeous, @lantern-inthenight. And big thanks as always to @myownparadise96. I literally could not have found the motivation to do this fic without you. 

MASTERPOST 

taglist: @myownparadise96 @n1-party-anthem @valleyd0ll @bigblack-catattack @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @oblvions @hansonobsessed​ @satingrass-maidensfair​

The scenery in Michigan was vastly different than back home. You were used to and comfortable with the nearly unforgiving heat of the American South West, but the farther away you got from home, the more foreign everything seemed. The scrubland slowly started being replaced by emerald green grass and dense forests of towering pines. Once you hit Illinois, little farmsteads were scattered along every road you took, boasting fields thick with corn and beans. 

It was a bit over a full day’s worth of driving. You had originally thought you could just drive right through - after all, you were young and you had plenty of caffeine at the ready. In reality, you wound up digesting the trip over two days. 

You were a fortunate enough person that you had a reliable car, which made up for the fact that it wasn’t very pretty to look at. It didn’t exactly sip gas, but that had never even been a concern before this - it wasn’t very often that you left home, let alone make a trip across the country. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you started seeing the exit signs for Ann Arbor. 

Your parents had been a bit judgemental about you picking a school so far away - they were even worse homebodies than you, and they knew that you being across the country meant they wouldn’t be seeing you until the school year was over - but there was no way you could turn down an opportunity like this one. You had worked your ass off to qualify for a scholarship, knowing full well that there was no way you could afford higher education otherwise. MU hadn’t been your very first choice but with one of the better programs in the country for your desired field, you just couldn’t turn it down. 

You had to pull over into a McDonald’s parking lot to pull up the address you were looking for and program it into your phone’s GPS before continuing further into the city. Your mother had been particularly wary about your living situation. See, she was a woman that adamantly liked to have a plan and then stick to it - she didn’t see any value in just letting things happen. “Go with the flow” wasn’t in her vocabulary, but you’d always romanticised the idea. Which was why, when you pulled up to the apartment that you were going to be living in for the next year, it was the first time you’d ever seen it. 

You had found the listing on the Facebook marketplace for the area, looked at a couple of pictures, and signed the lease agreement online - all without knowing what you were really in for. You’d been informed that you’d have a roommate when you’d contacted the landlord, but she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the person other than that. All she really said was “no pets, no smoking, and one month’s rent for the security deposit. You had told yourself that it didn’t really matter what the situation was as long as the other person wasn’t outwardly malicious and the place wasn’t infested with pests or anything, even though you knew it mattered a little. 

An audible sigh of relief left your lips when you pulled into the apartment parking lot and found that your new home looked well kept. The building had old, slide-up windows, but the brick siding was clean, and the shrubs that lined the property were trimmed and neat. You and your back seat stuffed to max capacity with house plants had made it - and with only a bit of sleep deprivation and caffeine jitters for damages. 

After you got out of the car, you grabbed your very favorite potted cactus and found your way into the building, meandering down the dim hall until you came upon the door marked 6. You hadn’t been given a key yet, so you knocked with your free hand and waited until you heard someone shuffling around inside.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous - obviously, you were - but more than anything you were excited. Anxious, maybe? That seemed like the right word. 

The door opened to reveal a boy, around your age, hair a mess of curls on the top and shorn tighter to the sides of his head. You were immediately taken aback by the depth in his eyes, chocolatey and warm. 

“What’s up?” he asked casually, leaning against the door frame, a pair of old-school headphones dangling from his hand. 

You frowned at him slightly, suddenly terrified you’d gotten the wrong apartment number. You weren’t sure how you’d live with that embarrassment, especially if you had to live next door to him - you’d just be that stupid girl that didn’t even know where she lived.  “Oh, I think I’m your new roommate? This is number six, right?” You peered around the other side of the open door, just to confirm.

A beaming grin spread over his soft face, showing you his blindingly white teeth and the deepest pair of dimples you’d ever seen. “Oh, cool, yeah. Come on in.”

He stepped aside, giving a dramatically flourished bow as a gesture for you to enter. You obliged, and even though this was your new house too, you paused and waited as he shut the door behind you. 

“Sorry, I was expecting you yesterday, so.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile and then extended his free hand to you. “Anyway, I’m Josh.” 

You shifted your cactus to one arm so you could shake his hand. “Y/N. Yeah, sorry, it took me longer than I expected to get here. Which is why my stuff apparently showed up before I did.”

You eyed around the apartment, spotting boxes of your things in piles. The original plan your parents had come up with was to have you rent a U-Haul, but since you’d never driven anything bigger than your Camry, you had quickly shot that idea down. After some expert negotiating, they had agreed to hire a moving company. You hadn’t had the balls to ask what a service like that had set them back - decided instead that it was better if you didn’t know. 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It all showed up yesterday at like noon. One of the boxes was open a little, and I saw records so I looked through them to make sure you weren’t some kind of freak.”

It was more of a statement than a warning, and the smile he gave you showed not even a shred of an apology so you just smiled back. “Find anything you like?”

He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen - connected to the living room by a huge square archway. “Your music taste is,” He paused, opening a cupboard and pulling down two mismatched glasses. “Eclectic.”

You laughed at him, bending to gently set your plant down on a side table. “That’s true.” 

“But I found plenty I could listen to, so I guess you’re okay. You want some juice?” he asked as he held up a paper carton of store brand orange juice

. 

“That would be lovely,” you agreed, standing stick straight the way you did when in the presence of new company. “My dad used to take me to a lot of thrift stores and we’d go home with a minimum of two records per trip.”

“I love thrifting,” he said simply, giving you an alarmingly serious look. “There are three here, I think. Every once in a while you can find something really worth keeping. I have kind of a ‘catch and release’ policy where if I don’t instantly know what I’m going to do with an item, I leave it there, but I think - like - a third of my wardrobe is from thrift stores.”

You listened, feeling oddly entranced by the way he was handing you thoughts as they came to him. There was something truly honest about it - a quality people back home didn’t seem to have. It was charming. 

He brought your glass of juice to you and then motioned to the rest of the apartment. “You want the grand tour of Casa De Joshua-” He gave you a pointed look and a cheesy grin. “And Y/N?” 

You breathed a laugh at him, nodding as you sipped. “Please.”

“Okay, try not to get lost - this is obviously the living room. I do most of my living here as the name would suggest. I found this couch on the side of the road - actually almost all of my furniture is adopted.” As he explained, he was gesturing to items like Vanna White.

The couch looked. Well-loved. You could tell just at a glance that it was probably past it’s prime when Josh had stumbled upon it, but it did look comfortable, and it wasn’t like you had a couch to offer, so you were happy with it. 

“I have this TV but it’s really only for movies and stuff because I’m twenty-two and I’d rather die than pay for cable. But there are literally hundreds of DVDs in the TV stand that you are welcome to peruse at your leisure,” he informed, his hands gesturing almost arbitrarily as he talked. 

You followed as he moved on through the archway. “This is the kitchen. All of the food lives here. There’s lots of stuff, but I try to just make two bigger meals per day. I don’t have a real ice tray so I’ve been using a chocolate mold- Well anyway, our ice will be in the shape of wiener dogs.”

You were shocked at the laugh that escaped you, genuine and uncontrolled. He grinned over at you, clearly also surprised - but pleased with himself for getting the reaction he was aiming for. 

“I think I can live with that.” 

“Good,” he agreed simply, giving you a new kind of smile - something sweeter. After a beat, he motioned down the hall with his eyes, letting you lead. “The bathroom is this way. The water takes like three or four minutes to get hot. I realized that I have a lot of products for some reason, but I condensed them all into this one area in the corner just in case my new roommate was a girl, and you are so that’s great. I’ll probably get a shelf.”

There was a proud quality to his voice like he felt gentlemanly for letting you have all the space you needed. For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy. 

“And what if your new roommate had been a boy?” you inquired with a smirk. 

He put a finger on his chin, taking on a contemplative look for you. “Hmm. Then I guess I slowly would have moved my stuff back to the cabinet - probably just one thing per day so he wouldn’t notice. Unless he had a lot of makeup or something, then I’d just let him have it.” 

He grinned as you teasingly shook your head. 

“This way is the sleeping quarters. My room is there on the right and yours to the left.”

You stepped into your new room and let a sigh of relief. Two huge windows took up a lot of the far wall, framed underneath by large sills. The space was bright and roomier than you’d pictured. Your bed was set up in the very middle of the room, but you already knew exactly where you wanted it to go. For some reason, you had been concerned that you wouldn’t like the space, but it was kind of perfect. 

“This is great,” you breathed, turning to him and giving him a sly grin. “Wanna give me a hand moving my furniture around?”

He pretended to consider for a moment until you spoke again. 

“My mom sent money for pizza while I get stuff unpacked,” you said coyly. “If you needed any convincing.”

He laughed, showing you his teeth. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I’ll help as long as I get to look through your stuff while we move it.”

You gave him a questioning look, earning a one-shouldered shrug in return. He looked benign enough standing there, propped against the door frame with a goofy upturn to his lips, so you relented.  

“Deal,” you agreed.

You were positive you would not have been able to move stuff without his help. For being a slender boy, he seemed to easily be able to get things where they needed to be. He dutifully helped you shove your furniture into place - your bed against the window wall, your desk and vanity on the wall with your closet door. Then, bless his little heart, he helped you move it all again when you decided you didn’t like the arrangement (but not without some light griping). 

One by one, you brought in your boxes from the living room and you allowed him to poke through them, perched on your bed. He flipped through your books, thumbing pages of ones that piqued his interest - you could only imagine that he was already planning on borrowing some of them. He reacted similarly to your framed photos, as he unwrapped them from their packing paper.

When you got your record player set up, he put on a vinyl and started to hang your art prints on the wall where you instructed him to. The look of concentration on his face was rather endearing as he held a few nails between his teeth and hammered them into the wall, one by one. There was a time or two you were convinced that he was going to mutilate his thumb, but he didn’t, and when the last picture was hung, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

You called in a pizza, adorned with his requested toppings as you hung your clothes into your closet, your phone tucked against your ear and shoulder for maximum efficiency. 

Plants collected on your bed until there was no more room for them - after that, he started setting them on the floor as he brought them in from your car. He didn’t seem to be judging the sheer amount of them, even though he had every right to. 

“It’s going to look like a jungle in here,” he stated finally as he took a bite out of a slice of pizza that he was holding like a taco, his eyes raking over all of the foliage scattered around your room. Rather than sounding like he was teasing, his tone seemed excited. 

You grinned at him, starting to arrange them on the window sill and your bookshelf that had only ever served you as a plant shelf since you’d bought it. “Plants are my passion. Botany major,” you explained as you fluffed up your Monstera’s huge leaves. 

“Ooh.” He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling one of his legs up underneath him on your bed - now fitted with sheets. “I think that’s going to be nice. Give it some life in here.”

You grabbed another slice from the pizza box on your nightstand and tried to think of the right tone of voice to use to ask the next question. “How long have you lived here by yourself?”

He hummed, eyes flicking around distantly as he thought. “Well, I’ve lived here just over a year, and my first roommate dropped out and moved back home about...six months ago?”

“Have you been lonely? You seem like a social guy.” You gave him an empathetic look but he just shrugged at you. You hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure, but you suspected he was more affected than he was letting on. 

“I mean, a little lonely. But I got used to it for the most part.” He paused for a good couple of seconds before a smile spread across his lips. “And Penny’s kept me company.”

“Oh, does your girlfriend stay here too?” you prompted, trying to remember if you’d seen any feminine looking items lying around that weren’t yours.

“What? No,” he said under a chuckle and stood, gesturing for you to follow him across the hall. 

The second you walked through the doorway, you were met with the smell of incense sticks and linen. His room was dimmer than yours and kind of cramped with all of his mismatching furniture, but he had a huge bed - you thought it could easily fit three people in it. There were some clothes strewn about around a laundry hamper by the door and you tried to not be jealous that his closet seemed to be about twice the size of yours. 

He crossed the room to crouch in front of a coffee table that he seemed to be using as a catch-all. The varnish was worn off the top of it in rings because sitting on the coffee table was a globe of water and a calico colored goldfish swimming around aimlessly inside of it. 

“Ah, so this is Penny,” you giggled as you bent over next to him. When the fish spotted him, it rose to the surface of the water, opening its mouth in demand for food.

He grinned down at it. “Light of my life. We’re not allowed to have pets but I figured that a fish didn’t count.”

You hummed, admittedly a bit charmed by the whole situation. “But don’t goldfish require a lot of space?”

The smile fell from his face, adopting a level of concern you hadn’t yet seen from him as he peered over at you. “Do they?”

Immediately, you felt guilty for putting that look on his features. Your brain kick-started - trying to think of a way to make it right again. “I think so? Maybe we can find her a small tank? Put a few little plants in there for her?”

Josh nodded at you, stroking his fingers over the glass with a frown. “I’m a bad dad.”

“No, no!” you assured, putting your hand on his head but then removing it instantly when you realized that you didn’t really know him, he’d just already made you feel like you did. Either way, you figured it would be inappropriate to touch him. “You’re great. She looks really happy.”

“She’s great at begging for food, so don’t get tricked,” Josh instructed after a moment, seemingly able to put his concerns aside to jest you.

You nodded in agreement. “I’ll be ever vigilant,” you promised, making him smile again. 

He stood back up, so you did as well. 

“Well, I’ll give you some time to get comfortable in your room,” Josh said, sitting back on his bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 

“I promise I will,” you assured, tapping your hand on the doorframe on your way out. 

By the time the sun was set, your room was shockingly well put together. The emotional rollercoaster that was the album Rumors helped you keep on task, losing yourself in the music so it didn’t feel like work at all. You hadn’t been expecting it to come along so quickly, but you guessed that was because you hadn’t anticipated such a friendly roommate. The nesting had always been your favorite part, so you took your time to enjoy placing out all your knick-knacks and photos. 

You took a break to shower when you decided you were done for the day, reveling in the feeling of the water after such a long time in your car - He was absolutely right about how long it took to warm up from ice cold. When you got out and changed into your pajamas, Josh was sitting in the living room with a laptop across his legs. 

“You wanna chill?” he asked when he heard you padding down the hall, shutting the lid of it and setting it on a side table. “Or if you’re too tired, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. I’d love to talk.” You sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of room between you as you pulled your knees up to your chin. “Tell me more about yourself,” you requested, tugging a blanket from a beat-up wicker basket on the floor and wrapping it around your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he started. You wondered how long it had been since he had to introduce himself to someone new. “I’m from a tiny little town here in Michigan. I’m the oldest of four - two brothers and a sister. My brother, Jake, also attends MU and lives just off campus.”

You frowned at him. “Wait, why wouldn’t he live with you?” you asked through a disbelieving laugh. 

“He lived with me long enough,” Josh explained in a humored tone. “There are only so many people where I’m from and well - we wanted to meet new people, you know?” 

“I guess I should be grateful for that.” 

“Yeah, probably,” he teased and then paused to think. “I’m in performing arts - I’m actually putting on a production around Christmas with some elementary school kids.”

You suppressed the aww that was threatening to pass your lips. “You like kids?”

He beamed you a smile, shaking his head. “Love them. I want to have like ten of them someday.”

The thought of him surrounded by kids made you soften. You were genuinely shocked about how easy he was to talk to - how easy he was to like. You had never thought in a million years you’d get along with your roommate so well, let alone the first day meeting them. 

“I hope you get to,” you said as genuinely as you could muster, prompting him to give you a grateful smile. 

A yawn escaped you before you could hide it, and you quickly breathed an apology, but he just waved you off. 

“You must be exhausted from that drive,” he said, his voice soft. “You should get some sleep.”

You nodded in agreement and gave him a thankful smile. “Is it okay if I sleep out here?”

The look on his face was quizzical, forcing a laugh from you. “Why would you do that?” 

“I have this tradition where whenever I’m in a new place, I always sleep in the living room on the first night. It’s good luck.”   

“Whatever you say.” His lips pulled back into an unconvinced smirk. “Well, yeah, you live here now too, so you can sleep wherever you’d like.”

He disappeared into his room for only a moment before popping his head back out, fingers wrapped around the door frame.

 “Do you mind if I join you?” 

You tried not to look too taken aback by the question, but you could feel your cheeks flushing warm. You raked your eyes along the couch, entirely positive that there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to lay out on it together fully - at least, not without being pressed flush against one another. However, his face looked innocent and soft - not a single tint of mischief colored across his features.

“Yeah, that-. I guess that’s okay,” you agreed sheepishly with a shrug. “But I’m not sure we’ll both fit if I’m being honest.”

He frowned questioningly at you, his brows lacing together until he realized what you thought he meant. His face instantly turned a light shade of pink to match yours. “No, no,” he quickly assured in between a breathy laugh. “I’m not going to sleep with you - I’ll take the recliner.” 

“Oh, right.” You gave a nervous laugh of your own, cursing yourself out in your head for being so dull. 

You were still well embarrassed as you made a nest of blankets on the couch and he brought out a pillow for you when you realized yours were still tucked deep in your bag of bedding. When each of you was situated on your respective pieces of furniture, he flicked the light off with a comfortable sigh. 

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that was far too smug for your liking. “You were awfully quick to agree to sleep next to me. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?” 

You knew he was teasing, but your heart rate still managed to pick up under the pressure. You had never been particularly good with awkward social situations; you rolled your eyes in the dark, thankful he couldn’t see how red you were. “No, Josh. I do not have a crush on you.”

“Okay,” he said through a melodic laugh, and you got the feeling that he’d gotten the reaction he was aiming for from you. “Should we be best friends though?”

You snorted a laugh of your own, wanting to be annoyed at how likable he was, but falling short. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met, I think.” You curled up, clutching your blanket tight to your body. “But yes. We can be friends.”

“Okay, cool - I’ll order matching t-shirts for us.” You could hear the pleased grin he was wearing, making you feel warm and cozy. You pulled the worn blanket up to your chin.

“See to it that you do.” 

Author’s Note: okay, I hope you guys like it! please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it. I’m using the same taglist from my Jake!fic, so no hard feelings if you don’t want to be tagged!

[smutbymia]

classmate jeno x reader with enemies to lovers please 🥺

There were a million and one reasons why you couldn’t stand Jeno: 

1. he’s an asshole

2. he’s the student body president for the second year in a row (you lost twice)

3. he’s a popular rich kid

4. he’s smart, athletic, AND good looking (I mean seriously... who is that lucky?)

Just to list a few. 

        You went to school together all your lives and it somehow felt like each year he got more and more irritating. This year is your last year and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let whatever ridiculous rivalry you and Jeno had ruin it. And so far you had done a good job of keeping that promise until this very moment. 

School had ended for the day, marking the completion of the first week of your senior year. You were reaching for a pen that dangled from a string next to a sign up sheet when you felt the warm skin of another hand brush against yours. You raised your head planning to mutter a quick apology to the person until you locked eyes with that bastard Jeno. The soft expression on your face immediately went icy as did his. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you spat at him, the pen lingering in your hand. Jeno plucked it from between your fingers and wrote his name on the sign up sheet. Your eyes went wide and he dropped the pen, letting it hang from its string once more before turning to you and stepping forward. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he towered over you with his height. 

You groaned, stomping your feet before whining “You’re already president, why do you have to join yearbook too?” 

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Because I need more clubs for my college application.”

Your eyes shot daggers into his. You picked up the dangling pen and scribbled your name under his on the list before turning on your heels and walking into the open classroom next to you. You emerged from the room an hour later, expressionless. You pinched yourself, hoping that today was just an awful nightmare. Person after person left the room, walking past you until the hall went quiet with the exception of a few voices that lingered further down the school hall as people slowly made their way out. 

Things had gotten just slightly worse. When choosing the president for the Yearbook club, you and Jeno ended up in a deadlocked vote -- thus encouraging Mr. Park, the faculty member in charge to come up with the brilliant idea of electing you both to share the presidency. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had to be in the same club. Now the two of you would be spending basically the entire year together working on such an important project. 

“Im not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me,” you repeated to yourself quietly as you slowly walked towards the nearest exit, in what felt like a daze. 

“That is quite the mantra,” teased Jeno. He had left the classroom last after talking with Mr. Park and caught up to you at some point. You jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“What do you want now?” you groaned.

Jeno stepped in front of you blocking your path. 

“Does it look like I want to be president with you? I’m being mature about it because it’s what everyone else wanted so you should stop acting like such a brat,” he spat. 

“You’re calling ME a brat? How ironic,” you scoffed, “You’re already in a ton of different clubs and hold multiple presidencies. What else could you possibly need for your college application? You could even buy your way in if you wanted to.”

Jeno froze at your final sentence. You continued the assault of words. “You know what your problem is? You can’t stand to lose,” you said, standing toe to toe with him. Jeno chuckled under his breath before bending slightly so that his face was hovering over your face. 

“You know what your problem is, princess? You’re okay with losing unless it’s to me,” he began, “You may still be royalty but that doesn’t mean you are anywhere near as powerful as I am,” he said as he straightened himself back up, walking backwards as he spoke. He tapped on one of the series of pins fastened to his school uniform jacket and you dropped your gaze to see what he was gesturing to -- it was a golden line drawing of a king’s crown. You locked eyes one last time before he turned around and stormed out of the school, leaving you standing alone in the empty corridor, blood rushing through your body with your fists balled up at your sides. 

That night you returned home, diving right into your study routine and getting an early start on some assignments to distract yourself from the awful day you were having. You had just gotten comfortable in bed when your phone buzzed with new notifications. You leaned over to squint at the bright screen. 

JENO: It’s Jeno 

JENO: School tomorrow. 5:30pm. 

You groaned before reaching for the device to type out a reply. 

Y/N: How did you get my number?

JENO: I’m the student body president. I can do anything I want. 

JENO: Just be there we have work to do. 

You rolled your eyes at his response before locking your phone and drifting off to bed.

The next day flew by the way Saturday’s typically did. You had breakfast with your family before heading out for a jog and coming home to do some workouts on youtube in your bedroom before taking some time to study and do some yearbook club work. When that evening finally rolled around you threw on some black biker shorts and a comfy oversized black graphic tee with some rock bands logo printed on the front before putting your hair up into a bun. 

Your school uniform was very preppy looking and you had to keep up appearances so every other part of your appearance had to be up to the same standard everyday. This resulted in you dressing quite “girly” so you enjoyed being able to dress down on the weekends when you weren’t out socializing.

Once you were done getting ready you made your way over to the school. According to Jeno, he had both keys and permission for the both of you to get some work done despite it being a Saturday. A security guard was parked outside by the gates when you arrived and you held up your yearbook club pass before he gave you a quick nod then immediately returned to watching some sports game on his phone screen and eating a sandwich. 

When you finally entered the school and got to the Yearbook/Media club lounge, you found Jeno leaning back in a computer chair as he clicked away at the mouse with his eyes glued to the monitor. He didn’t hear you when you entered because of the headphones he had covering his ears. He was dressed down too. He sported grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt and his black hair looked slightly damp as the strands clumped together slightly and rested against his forehead. He nodded his head to music, and tapped his free fingers against the desk he was seated at. 

When you stepped further into the room he spun in his chair to face you. Jeno’s eyes scanned the entirety of your body before he slipped the headphones down to his neck and spoke. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your preppy headband, all that makeup, and those stupid earrings you always wear,” he muttered. 

Okay, low blow. The downside to wearing school uniforms is that you lose a lot of your individuality, and the school rules limit what you can and cannot wear. In fact, students had to fight for the right to accessorize until the ban was lifted. You personally enjoyed wearing tons of different earrings from hoops, to waterfalls and of course you felt a nice headband would draw together your academia look. Both were your signatures and makeup was just a given at such a fancy school. 

“I’d insult you back but honestly you look a lot less annoying when you’re not wearing that preppy uniform jacket filled with pins and patches,” you snapped back. 

“Whatever, I never said it was meant to be an insult,” he mumbled before gesturing for you to come look at his computer screen. 

“I’ve been working on the first draft for the welcome week pages. I think we should follow this layout and theme for the rest of the yearbook. I’m submitting it to Mr. Park,” said Jeno.  

You looked over the screen as Jeno waited for your feedback. “I like my version better,” you said after a few minutes. 

“Your version? Let’s see it then,” he urged. You took a USB keychain that hung with the rest of your keys out of your bag and connected it to the computer before leaning over Jeno and pulling up the file. He shifted his chair backwards to give you room, and sat back as he admired you from behind. It wasn’t until you spoke to him again that you realized what he was doing. 

“How does it look?” you asked as the document loaded onto the screen.

“Real good...” he said as his voice dropped an octave. You turned your head to face him, catching him with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes still set on your backside before he drew them up to meet your gaze and flashing you a cheeky smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons. 

“Stop being a perv and come look,” you said sternly as you changed your position, lowering yourself to your knees by the monitor. Jeno scooted his chair forward again before looking up at your work. Within seconds he had a series of critical comments spilling from his mouth thus triggering a heated argument between the two of you. 

“You know what? I’m tired of going back and forth with you. Let’s just send both to Mr. Park and see which one he likes best,” he challenged. You were both on your feet now and standing toe to toe like you did yesterday during your face off. 

“Fine,” you accepted. Jeno sent the files off and the two of you drifted off into other work. You were both working in the dark room, developing some film, when you heard the faint sound of an email notification ring out from the monitor in the room next door. You and Jeno immediately looked at each other before frantically wrapping up your work and rushing to the computer. 

The two of you were huddled closely by the screen when Jeno clicked on the email to reveal its contents. You both silently read the screen before you were overcome with disappointment 

Mr. Park: Hey President’s. Both look great and would work perfectly with this years Yearbook but if you want my personal opinion, I think I’m leaning more towards Jeno’s! Great work so far and kudos for being so productive on a Saturday! Reach out if you need anything. 

You groaned as you stood back up. Jeno chuckled next to you. 

“Congratulations, you win again,” you snapped at him. He was so caught off guard by your tone that his smile fell from his face immediately and was quickly replaced by a smug expression. 

“Is that all that matters to you?” he asked raising his voice, “winning?”

You were toe to toe for the third time now and it was really starting to get on your nerves because Jeno was built and tall and something about him looking down on you made this stupid position even more annoying for you. 

“One thing! You couldn’t just let me have this one thing!” you yelled back. 

“Oh... my... GOD. You are unbearable!” Jeno groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“You want to know why I couldn’t let you have this one thing?” he started, leaning down closer to your face. He was inches from you now and his breath danced across your lips when he spoke. 

“Because... you’re such a fucking brat. Every time you whine and complain all I can think about is filling up this pretty mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice anymore,” he said through gritted teeth, reaching his hand up to your chin. 

“And your face... the look on your face every time i beat you at something or take something away from you... the way your eyes get big and teary, and the way you pout your lips like you’re doing right now” he continued, running his index finger across your bottom lip. 

“Nothing turns me on more than taming you like this,” he whispered. Your body shivered under his touch. You were fuming on the inside at his words. They hurt. Yet you were also feeling things you had never felt before. Your eyes scanned Jeno’s face, along his lips and eyes and his jawline. Your nipples hardened underneath the cotton material of your shirt. Jeno noticed. You fought back tears of frustration as one slipped down your cheek, cursing yourself for being so turned on at a moment like this. 

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeno muttered as he took his free hand to wipe away at the tear as his other hand cradled your cheek. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides and you stood frozen in your spot. 

“You’ve been so worried about me ruining you, but maybe that’s exactly what you need to get rid of that attitude...hmm?” he murmured. 

“I-I hate you,” you sputtered out, sounding more whiney than angry. Jeno let out a breath of air as the corner of his mouth turned up into a brief smile. He  stepped closer to you and you stepped back until you were trapped against a table.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled as he hovered his lips dangerously close to yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. You broke eye contact with him as your gaze settled on his lips. You subconsciously licked your own as you blinked away the remainder of the dampness in your eyes. 

You didn’t notice the way you gravitated towards his lips like a magnet until he leaned away from you slightly and your lips chased after his -- not letting the distance grow too much. Your eyes were still glued to his lips which had formed into a smug grin when you noticed how you had chased after his lips like a needy girl just as you felt the first wave of heat rush to your face.

“Just as I thought...” he muttered as one of his hands dropped to your waist and you felt him tighten his grip ever so slightly. Jeno ran his hand down the side of your body, trailing his fingers along your thighs before running his hands back up again -- this time gripping the bare skin of your waist underneath your graphic tee. 

You sucked in air when his warm hands came in contact with your skin. His eyes were glued to your face and his expression showed a slight hint of darkness. Jeno gripped your waist with both hands firmly before suddenly lifting you off the floor to sit on the edge of the table you had been trapped against. 

You let out a gasp as your butt landed on the cool surface, leaving you seated with Jeno standing between your legs. He bridged the gap between you by stepping closer and pulling you by your hips -- until every part of you was pressed against him. Your hands flew up to his chest to stop you from literally crashing into his chiseled torso.  

You accidentally let out a breathy moan when your crotches met -- feeling Jeno pressed against your center, leaving only the thin material of your biker shorts and your undies between your bodies. Jeno bit his bottom lip in response and rolled his lips once more, making you whimper and sending your hands sliding from his chest down to his waist. You hesitated but your hand placement was a dead giveaway that you wanted more friction. Jeno pulled at your hips one more time as he met your center with another stroke. You felt wetness begin to pool between your legs and tightened your grip on his waist. This time it was you who pulled him forward but he froze just before your bodies could properly connect again as you desperately tried to rut yourself against him. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your gaze immediately locked with his, eyes wide and lips pouted, a bit frustrated that he had stopped moving. 

“Good girl... Didn’t think you’d listen to me so well the first time,” he said, rewarding you with another roll of his hips. You groaned at the contact. 

“F-first time?” you question, rolling your hips to meet his as his breathing became more unstable. 

“It’s gonna be a long year, baby,” he started, “We have to work together, so it’s my responsibility to calm you down when you get all bratty.” 

There was something really sexy about the way you both managed to continuously grind against each other in pure ecstasy while having a full blown conversation, speaking between moans and grunts. 

“I’m n-not a brat, you’re just an asshole,” you snapped as you crossed your legs at your ankles, pulling him against you even harder. 

Jeno cursed under his breath at the friction as his hands reached down to grip at your ass before mumbling, “only person who thinks i’m an asshole is you,” he taunted, “you on the other hand are widely known for acting like a complete...”

You interrupted him with another roll of your hips, as a groan slipped from his lips. “Choose your next words carefully, Jeno,” you warned. 

he chuckled before finishing his almost forgotten sentence, “princess... that’s what you’re known for. For acting like such a fucking princess,” he groaned. 

Jeno wasn’t entirely wrong. You did strive for excellence when it came to your common interests in academics and extracurriculars. In fact, a pet peeve of yours was the fact that you and Jeno were always compared to each other, with most of the school being shocked that two people who were so alike seemed to always be at war with each other. In everyone else's eyes you were both one in the same.

Though you were respected, you weren’t delusional. There were definitely people who weren’t fond of you, but you had chalked it up to mere jealousy that was inevitable for a person who excelled as much as you did to experience. Jeno must have noticed your mind wandering because he lifted your chin slightly to direct your attention back to him muttering a soft “hey...” as he snaked his free hand up your shirt, hands brushing against your bare breast. 

You moaned when you felt his fingers tease your sensitive nipple. “Whats wrong with being a princess? People only call me that because they’re jealous,” you questioned. You had definitely begun to soak through your shorts, as you watched a faint wet patch begin to show on Jeno’s joggers. You gripped at the collar of his shirt as he dropped his head down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over the delicate skin. 

“F-fuck,” you groaned at the contact, hips jerking. 

“Exactly,” jeno said, lifting his head to lock his eyes with you again. “They’re jealous of how powerful you are... but that’s exactly what turns me on,” he confessed. 

He ran his hands along your cheek, leaning in to a whisper. “Do you know how hard it makes me when I think about turning the most powerful girl in school into a powerless mess?” Jeno tugged at one of your nipples as he finally drew your mouth into his for a kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, overcome with pleasure. 

Jeno deepened the kiss and for once you just allowed him to take control. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny that his energy was intoxicating and yes, maybe you were a little bit jealous of him for the same reasons as others were jealous of you. 

How could you not be attracted to someone who was as driven and talented and equally, if not even more powerful than you were in that regard. As much as you butt heads there was no doubt that you were very much a good fit for each other-- if all the fighting and competition were set aside, that is. But this didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was the way he was making you feel. It was as if though all those years of tension had finally bubbled over. 

Jeno’s tongue swirled against yours sloppily, just the way you liked. Even your bodies seemed to be on the same page. He pulled away from you after a few minutes of making out -- leaving a trail of spit hanging from your lips to his as he lifted you off the table and carried you over to one of the couches in the lounge area of the room. 

The sun had already begun to set ages ago, and only the faint hint of the computer screens you had been working on were illuminating the room. Jeno sat on the couch with you straddling his lap as he pulled his shirt over his head. You did the same and soon enough you were both left topless. Jeno wasted no time drawing you towards him and trapping a nipple between his lips as he palmed your other breast. You arched your back into him letting his name spill from your mouth. 

He kissed his way back up your chest as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

“Mmm.. Need all of this gone,” he said as he pulled at your shorts. You got up from his lap, and he immediately began to peel off the remainder of your clothing, dragging the material down the length of your body. 

His breath hitched as he stripped you of your shorts to reveal your white cotton thong. He brushed his fingers softly against the material before mumbling to himself, “cute...” 

His fingers ran against your slit, feeling the damp material under his touch and making you grow weak in the legs. 

“You’re so wet for me already... Such a good girl,” he said. Hearing words of praise fall from his lips like that made you feel so soft. For some reason, compliments hit different when they came from him. Your eyes drifted to the growing bulge in Jeno’s joggers. 

Your mouth fell open with the sudden desire to be filled with as much of him as you could fit as you slowly fell to your knees. Jeno raised his eyebrows while he watched you intently. You tapped your fingers against his knee, “off, please” you said as you pulled at the strings in the waistband of his bottoms. 

“Fuck, do you know how good you look on your knees for me?” he said as he lifted his hips to get rid of the rest of his clothing. Your eyes went wide when he finally settled back into his seat and began stroking his length while analyzing your expression. 

For once you couldn’t blame him for the arrogant expression on his face. He had every right to be proud of what he was packing. 

“Ugh, is every part of you perfect?” you complained as you scooted closer to him. You dragged your fingernails along his thighs as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth again. Your fingers danced dangerously close to his member as he slowed the movement of his hand before letting go of himself. 

You wrapped your hand around him, shocked at how much bigger he looked between your fingers. He throbbed and raised his hips slightly, thrusting up into your first. “Needy...” you teased, looking up at him as you giggled softly. 

“Y/n” he whimpered, a bit embarrassed at the sounds leaving his mouth now that you had momentarily gained the upper-hand. Jeno watched as you pressed your tongue to the slit of his cock before popping the head right into your mouth and sinking down around his length in one go, bottoming out. 

Your lips were wrapped around the very base of his cock when you moaned around him, making your entire mouth vibrate. 

“Holy shit,” he moaned loudly as he reached out a hand to draw circles on your cheeks while you worked at his length. You lifted your mouth all the way back, as his hips jerked forward again, fucking into your mouth as another whimper fell from his mouth. Your eyes were locked in his and you couldn’t believe how different he looked. His hard expression had gone soft. You had definitely managed to strip him momentarily of his power. 

“So naughty - where’d you learn - to use your mouth like this- huh, princess?” he asked between thrusts. Your eyes watered but you continued to let him use your mouth as you watched him grow more desperate. 

You removed him from your mouth with a pop as you pumped at his length fast. Jeno cursed under his breath before letting his head fall back on the couch for a moment. 

“Gonna c-cum,” he warned. 

“Look at me,” you ordered and Jeno obeyed.

You locked eyes as you delivered the final pumps, and waited with your mouth open and your tongue out as you felt him throb underneath your grip before spurts of his warmth shot up -- spilling onto your tongue and dripping from your lips down your chin. The remainder of his cum had spilled over onto your fingers, and you released him to pop them into your mouth to clean them off. 

You were aimlessly licking and sucking at your fingers, caught up in your own world when you noticed Jeno staring at you, chest rising and falling with a surprised expression on his face. 

“Hmm?” you hummed as you titled your head, wondering if everything was okay. Jeno, who had just cum harder than he ever had in his life was in pure disbelief at how you sat so calmly and managed to look so sweet and innocent with his cum dripping down your chin as you suckled at your own fingers. The sight alone made him start to grow hard almost instantly. 

After a few seconds he snapped out of it, leaning forward and cupping your cheek in his hand like he had been all night. 

“D-don’t think I’m letting you win that easily,” he muttered. He motioned for you to get off your knees, and he drew you in for a kiss as he repositioned you both on the couch so he would be on top of you. You seemed to have sparked the competitive fire within him. 

Jeno hadn’t expected you to switch on him like that and he was determined to follow through on his promise of ruining you. 

He trailed kisses down your body, skipping your pelvic region to drop kisses along your thighs as he peeled off your panties. 

“I’m sorry but I won’t be going easy on you... not after what you just did,” he warned as he pushed apart your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your center and it drove you insane. 

Jeno carried out the first lick along the length of your slit and it was enough to have you moaning and immediately roping your hands in his hair. You had been turned on for so long that even the slightest touch felt like heaven. 

He flicked his tongue against your entrance, muttering to himself about how great you taste, teasing you as your clit yearned for attention. He worked at your flesh, dipping his tongue in between the folds of your center before prodding at your hole and slipping his tongue inside. You tried to move your hips against his mouth but he firmly held you in place.

“Jeno, p-please,” you pleaded. He smiled against your skin as  he continued to dip his tongue into your hole, driving you closer to the edge but still not quite getting you there. 

“Whats wrong, princess?” he taunted before running his tongue up the length of your slit, once again avoiding your clit. You whimpered, reaching your hand down to feel yourself before he roped his fingers in yours to stop you. He lightly flicked his tongue against your clit, just enough to send electricity running through your body but still not enough to please you entirely. 

“I want to hear you beg for it,” he said as he blew air softly against your center, the sensitivity was overwhelming. He planted a soft kiss directly on top of your clit that would have melted your heart a bit if you weren’t so violently horny at this point. So instead, your hips jerked against the plushy feeling of his pursed lips. Jeno chuckled at your body’s reaction, before repeating the action -- drawing the same result.

After the third peck landed on your clit, and the third jerk of your hips sent you into a frenzy, you simply couldn’t resit any longer. 

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and words spilled endlessly from your mouth. “Please, Jeno.. fuck, please let me cum. I’m d-desperate,” you confessed as your hips raised off of the couch, and he pulled away teasingly watching you squirm beneath him. 

“How would you like to cum, baby?” he asked.

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you pleaded before adding a soft “please” to the end of your sentence. 

You watched Jeno position himself at your entrance before stopping. 

“i’m on the pill, we don’t need --,” you assured him, reading his expression. 

He groaned straight away, interrupting you before you could finish as his mind drifted to places he was too ashamed to admit. He ran his head along your slit, making you twitch before he entered you with a quick snap of his hips, bottoming out immediately and forcing a scream from your lips. 

You weren’t sure what to expect from Jeno but it definitely wasn't this. He angled himself perfectly, propping you up so he was hitting all the right places as he pounded into you relentlessly. Within a single minute you were both racing towards your orgasms. 

“I’m close,” he murmured as he planted a kiss to your lips. 

“Me too,” you answered, “one last thing...” you said as he continued to thrust into you at a delicious pace. 

“Hmm.. what is it, baby?” he asked. You locked eyes with him, feeling quite shy at your next words. 

“F-fill me up, please. I want you to cum inside of me, really really badly,” you whimpered and with a final groan at your unexpected demand, you felt Jeno’s warmth spill all over your insides, sending you right over the edge and leaving your insides contracting against him. The two of you remained exactly how you were for awhile. 

Jeno was the first to move after catching his breath. He slowly slipped out of you with a breathy moan before lowering himself towards your center and softly licking at your folds even though they were covered in his own cum. 

“Shit, i’m sorry... I barely made it to the end of your sentence before letting go,” he chuckled as he lapped at your skin. 

“JENO” you shrieked as an unexpected orgasm rushed through you again when he flattened his tongue against your entire slit and you found yourself moving against his mouth in seek of more pleasure. You pushed his head away as you clenched your legs together feeling a mixture of both pleasure and agony run through your body. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry... last one, i promise” he laughed as he moved to your face to plant soft kisses on your cheeks and a peck on your lips. It took you a while to come back from your high.

     it was a bit late when you guys had finally cleaned up and locked the school back up. Jeno had driven you home in his new Volvo which he tried to convince you was a totally normal back to school gift, and had texted you for the remainder of the night about things like yearbook, and homework. It almost seemed as though what had happened was merely a dream. 

It wasn't until you were back at school on Monday that you realized that going back to normal was going to be impossible. You and Jeno still bickered over Yearbook decisions and didn’t hesitate to challenge each other during class debates but things had changed. Every annoying exchange you had simply fuelled your desire more. 

You’d get into intense match ups only to find yourselves coming up with excuses about Yearbook club to sneak out of class for quickies in Jeno’s car. He even had his way with you more times than you could count across his desk in the office he was awarded after becoming student body president. At first it was fun -- your adrenaline would pump at the thought of sneaking around so much but then things slowly started to shift again. 

Soon, you would spend afternoons at his freaking massive mansion of a family home where you guys would go over yearbook work. When you didn’t have yearbook work to do, he began inviting you over for study sessions, and to do homework -- all of which would end in amazing sex. Soon those invites extended to regular hangouts for no particular reason but to enjoy each others company and you found yourself drifting away from casual hookups to something that felt heavier -- more serious. 

The final nail in the coffin was when Jeno let your little secret slip after getting so worked up in a class discussion. You had been discussing the symbolism of a film you had just watched for an english class when you began to clash. 

“Baby, that makes no sense,” he mumbled after you had shared your opinion. He was doodling aimlessly on his notebook. The entire class went wide eyed, and a few gasps were let out.

“Actually, it makes perfect s--” you began before freezing. You had just noticed his mistake, and everyone had noticed yours which was how the pet name didn’t seem to phase you at all. Luckily Mr. Park quickly moved on to another topic as you both sat cursing yourselves silently. 

After the final bell rang for the day, you locked eyes with Jeno. 

“Idiot,” you mouthed. He offered you a sheepish grin in return as he approached your desk.

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” he began, “but now that every knows..” Jeno, slipped his arm around you as you entered the hallway. Most students minded their business, which you were grateful for while others stared and whispered. 

“I have a student body meeting for the next hour... you have debate team right?,” he said as you approached an intersecting series of hallways. You nodded.

“I’ll meet you outside then, and we can go to mine to go over the photographer schedules for this months events,” Jeno said. 

“Sounds good,” you responded before turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction. Jeno’s grip on your wrist had him tugging you back towards him. 

He stood above you with an annoyed expression on his face, pouting. He pulled your face close to his, mumbling about you being heartless before he planted a lingering kiss on your lips, of course drawing the attention of onlookers. Your cheeks were on fire when he pulled back, leaving you flustered and a bit embarrassed as he shot you a final wink before checking his watch and rushing off to his meeting. You turned around to head to debate club, wondering how exactly your biggest enemy had turned into the sweetest, most caring lover you could have ever asked for. 

[sugurus-slxt]

Our Song – Tsukishima Kei

Type: fluff (SFW)

Warnings: slight cursing, not eating, crying

Note: Guess you could say it’s a college au but I’ve been working at this for a while so I hope you like it.

Word Count: 3388

Hope you guys enjoy the story      

Sunday [6:30 p.m.]

You were laying on your bed in your dorm running your fingers through Kei’s hair while he listened to music. This is how you spent most rainy weekends. He was quietly humming to his overly loud music but you were kind of in a daze looking at the wall but not quite. You did this a lot while staring off in your faraway land, thinking of a future with him but it’s not something you would tell him. You were too afraid he didn’t feel the same way. You knew he loved you, nearly two years into college and you both are still going strong but what if he never thought about it.

“Hey, shorty! Whatcha thinking about?” He looked up at you. “Oh, nothing really just some assignment my professor mentioned in class today,” you lied trying to brush it off quickly. He just shrugged and asked, “Ok...  Umm…Wanna listen to music with me? I’ll play my playlist you like.” You nodded, “I’ll get my Bluetooth headphone…” he pulled on your wrist. “I’ll share these with you,” he held up his regular earbuds and you agreed. If that’s what he wants, it was fine with you.

Tsukishima would never admit it but sharing his earbuds like this with you made him feel more connected like sharing your energy, a sort of bond, it was romantic for him. The thought of it always made the tips of his ears turn pink. He switched positions to have you lay next to him, your face buried in his chest. Silently, he prayed you couldn’t feel his heart quicken as he rested his head atop yours and hand on your waist. Headphones plugged on the playlist began. A few songs in a familiar song started to play, a love song, one of your favorites. “Babe? This song …” you started but he shushed you. “I know. I know. I added it because I knew you liked it ok now just listen ok. It’s no big deal,” his fingers played along your spine only making you feel more nervous. Your thoughts began to wander as more of your favorite romantic songs played. At this point, it was 7:30 PM and there was one thought that couldn’t leave your mind ‘What’s our song?’ and before you knew it you started talking, “Hey um Kei? What’s our song?” You regretted it as soon as you asked. “Huh? What do you mean our song?” he questioned his voice slightly drowsy and muffled by your hair. “It’s just… you know what it’s nothing,” you brushed it off and tried to continue listening to the music but he paused it.

“Spit it out y/n,” he said looking at you, it wasn’t meant to be rude, he just preferred you to be straightforward. You didn’t intend to make a mini-rant but it happened, “You know our song. It like a song for us that describes us and no matter where or who we’re with when it plays we think of each other. Or like if we are together and it’s just that knowing look that happens when it plays. Our song that’ll make it feel like it’s just us no matter who’s around. And it’s not just us you know its fits us, describes us like it was meant for us. Like it’s a song we can play to dance at our wedding, and again on our anniversary and relive the moment. Maybe even for our ki-,” you stopped in your tracks. You had caught yourself before you went too far. It was unbelievable you just brushed it off a while ago but it still managed to come out. Your most insecure thoughts were poking at you as Kei just kind of looked at you, lips parted. You’ve never seen that expression well except the time he’d see you naked for the first time but still, this was a bit different. He looked away scratching his neck and said, “Oh ok… Well, we can think about a song I guess but I’m kinda hungry and I told Tadashi I would go for pizza with him so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your face fell as he grabbed his stuff and walked out of your dorm. He just kind of brushed it off and you were terrified because he was supposed to stay the night. You knew Kei could be like this, he wasn’t the best with his emotions and you knew that. You even loved it but this time his lack of response just threw you into a blender of bad thoughts. Maybe you just made him nervous but what if he didn’t want that, what if you had scared him off your mind was racing. You went to bed without dinner and tried to fall asleep whilst listening to the playlist he had made for you whilst trying to hold back sobs. It’s a miracle you got any sleep that night, thoughts kept attacking you “What if he breaks up with me tomorrow? What if he doesn’t want that with me? Does he think I’m stupid for thinking so far? ”

-----Out for Pizza with Yamaguchi-----

“I thought you and y/n had plans?” he said sipping his drink.

“Hey … We did but um she started talking about this thing called ‘our song’,” he was hoping he could clear his head and talk about how he felt without messing things up. Tadashi was always good with words and being kind.

“But isn’t that like good?” He asked confused chewing his pizza. Unlike Tsukishima who hadn’t touched his food even a bit.

“I guess but she was talking about marriage and kids and I-,” he paused looking down whilst fiddling with the straw in his drink.

-----The Next Day-----

You put on some concealer to hide your eye bags and puffiness, some regular comfy clothes, and bought a whole lot of coffee, just something to get you through today but it didn’t help. You couldn’t focus and it was driving you mad. Your friends noticed your teachers and even the janitor. There was no doubt Kei wouldn’t notice but he wouldn’t let you just say “It’s nothing…” However, there was one problem you hadn’t seen him all day. It was the end of this achingly slow day and you bumped into Yamaguchi, “Hey have you seen Tsukishima?” He smiled and said, “No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday but I’m sure you could probably find him in his dorm later.” You wanted to ask him if Kei had said anything but in all honestly you were too scared to. You thanked him and quickly went on you way.

-----Next Week------

The entirety of last week had followed a similar cycle to the say after what you consider the “Great Tragedy”.  You’d barely eaten or slept, the dark circles were becoming more than obvious. You were convinced you guys were over and it was getting harder to bear. Sure you could have just seen him at his dorm and ended this prolonged misery much quicker but something always came up whether it be a problem, an assignment, or just your cowardly nature towards the situation. At this point, you were just torturing yourself. Tomorrow was your 2 year anniversary and you were more than afraid to face him. That’s if it wasn’t over already.

-----At Tsukshima’s Dorm-----

“You have to go see her,” Yamaguchi pleaded

“But what if she doesn’t want me anymore now? What if I messed up? Worse what if she thinks you hate her? I should have seen her even if I was busy.  I’m always such- such dammit I’m an asshole,” it was one of those rare moments in his life where he was having a breakdown and he didn’t know what to do.

“Tsukishima Kei! You better calm down right now!” Yamaguchi held on to Tsukishima shaking his shoulders. “You aren’t going to know unless you find out ok. I know you, even if you’re not good at expressing yourself but you always succeed in getting the point across plus just sleep tonight and execute the master plan tomorrow. And for the record she knew you were an asshole, strangely I think she likes that,” he patted Tsukishima on the back and left the dorm, giving him a small laugh and smile of reassurance.

The words master plan gave him some comfort but he wouldn’t really call it that. It was always the plan it just took longer than he expected. He’s kind of glad you never came to check on him but he knew you, even if it didn’t seem that way. He knew you were hurt and your habits would have taken a turn for the bad he just hoped that he didn’t mess up for good. Tomorrow was your anniversary so in a sense the timing was perfect. The only problem was he’d avoided you for so long he hadn’t even seen you, sure he asked around but his worries weren’t put to rest so easily. He’d never let you know how obsessive he could be.

It killed him to be away from you for so long, especially how your last encounter had ended.  He could only hope this would make you see, make you understand how he feels once and for all.

----- Anniversary----- 

He was hoping he could catch you around campus for lunch and maybe convince you to take a walk with him to the nearby coffee shop where both of you had your first date, but you weren’t anywhere to be seen. He remembered that date, no matter what snarky remark he made you’d laugh and giggle. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but he wouldn’t show it, instead, he’d made a snarky remark towards you laugh which only made you laugh harder. He was intrigued, captured in a sort of way and he knew you’d keep him that way for a long time but now it was a bit different.

“Hey, Tsukki! I heard she’s in her dorm, she hadn’t gone to classes all day,” Yamaguchi ran up to him pulling him out of the memory.

“Thank you!” He ran quickly, practicing more often really paid of athletic-wise.

----- In Your Dorm -----

You hadn’t moved all day. No breakfast, lunch, snack not even water. Your body ached, your nose stuffed not only from crying but rather because you worried yourself sick, literally. His gift laid unwrapped on the floor, It was a box of various things you thought he might like, new kneepads with a cute little dino on the ends, a jacket with an embroidered moon on it, cute matching dino necklaces, and a plushy which was you guessed it a dinosaur. Now you were wondering if he’d even want anything from you.  

As the heaviness of your eyelids started to take over there was a sound of the door opening, you quickly pulled the blanket over your head. Kei was the only one with a key; you wouldn’t let him see you like this. You didn’t want this to be the last way he saw of you, pathetic, weak, and plain loser. You prepared yourself to be broken up with as he called out, “Y/n! Y/n! Shorty! Babe, I’m coming in!” ‘Babe ?” your thoughts lingered on the word, it gave you hope and a bit of courage to call back out quietly because you could barely raise your voice, “I’m in my bed.”

He peeked his head in and the sight made his heart crack, “You little dummy! You got yourself sick; I should have known this would happen. Umm, I’ll be right back.” He ran out and in about 15 minutes he had been back, and even then you were still shocked and confused. “I’m in your kitchen,” He called out.  All you could manage was to mumble a simple ‘ok.’ His plans had few out the window and in all honesty, he was panicking just a bit but he still had a backup plan though and he thinks it’ll work just fine. All he had to do was try his best to do what he came here for, he just wanted to make you see and hopefully he hadn’t ruined everything.

Tsukishima waltzed into your room carrying a bowl, “Ok, I’m no cook but I can make ramen. You better like it ok.” He helped you sit up and held the spoon to your mouth which kind of took you by surprise, “Come on open up or I’ll eat it myself. Unless you want me to do that airplane thing they do for babies you’re such a child anyways,” he joked earning a little giggle from you. You gladly took the mouthful and smiled, “Yummy. Thank you, babe,” a small smile quirked his lips to your response. This caused your cheeks to feel even warmer if that was even possible, the fever was already burning you alive. After you finished the ramen, he made you take some medicine and drink water. At this point, the fact that today was your anniversary was completely forgotten but you did the one thing that got you into this mess again. You blurted out, “So you’re not here to break up with me?” He looked sort of taken aback, had he really made you feel that way. He thought maybe his lack of response had made you sort of letting go of yourself but he didn’t think that this could happen. He hated that he couldn’t make you believe in his love, that he always came off as cold but it was time to execute the plan. He hoped this would show you.

“What? No, no I’m not here for that but um we can talk about this after you should get some rest,” He padded towards you and laid next to you wrapping his arms around you. “What if you get sick?” you questioned him quietly. “It’s whatever; you’re the dummy who didn’t take care of yourself so now I gotta do this. Plus maybe then you can take care of me, you owe me anyway because I made you my amazing ramen,” you chuckled at his response, leaning into his touch. “Wait I almost forgot,” he grabbed his earbuds and his phone. He readjusted and started the music, you were four songs in, all happened to be a mix of his and your favorites.

Tsukishima’s heart rate had quickened and his breathes were getting shallow, it was fast approaching and he was nervous. He couldn’t help but wonder ‘What if you hadn’t liked it?’ The song started and you knew immediately, you couldn’t face him your hand over your mouth, tears welled in your eyes it was beautiful, it was perfect. You could feel every emotion, every thought, you knew he loved you before but this was pure, it was his everything and he did it all for you.

The weight shifted on the bed as he came on the other side of the bed on one knee, he pulled your hand from your mouth and kissed your knuckles, “I’m sorry I left you waiting for so long, I’m sorry I made you feel lonely and hurt but most of all I’m sorry for making you didn’t think I loved you. I’m not the best with words so um I hope this comes out right. When I met you, I felt like I finally found my person, you loved my dry, snarky humor, weren’t easily fazed and most of all you never judged me. You made me feel accepted, loved and I could never ask for anything more. I- I- spent the last week thinking about what you said and well you know what else now, I’m sure you can tell. Anyway, umm I want to get married, I want cute kids that look like you and have your cute laugh, I want it all, I’m sorry I didn’t make it seem that way, I just never thought you could want that with me but I panicked though I was beyond happy. I can’t propose to you now but I want to promise myself to you with these,” he held out his other hand with two rings; they were dino rings which made it even cuter. You couldn’t help but giggle as you wiped the tear with your other hand. “That’s if you still want me and we can play this song, Our Song at our wedding, in the car, for our kids, whenever you want if that’s still what you want,” he broke, tears slid down his cheeks.

 He was never one to cry, and when he did it was genuine. You shifted your body, your legs off the side of the bed, and him now kneeling in between them. You raised his slightly bowed head, holding his face and wiping the stray tears on his cheeks, “Kei, you’ve never made me feel lonely, I just over thought and you know kind of thought maybe you didn’t want to have kids or get married or the whole shebang. I’m not the most optimistic person so I immediately assumed the worst. This isn’t your fault I’m just a big idiot and I love you so much. So yes I want all those things with you and no one else.”  He laughed a bit, “Yep you’re an idiot but you’re my big idiot and I love you too, shorty hmmm shortcake,” he placed a gentle kiss against your lips and slips on the funny little ring.

“Hey you were supposed to say I’m not an idiot but what did I expect, shortcake though I like that,” You leaned in as he hummed in response against your lips. He is incessantly kissing you but a question crossed your mind and you stopped him, “What’s wrong y/n?” He questioned a bit worried. “How did you make that song by yourself? Not to mention your voice is amazing babe. You should consider music as a career you know,” you looked waiting for a response. “Well you see, I had some of the lyrics written about half a year ago and what you said made me finish em. You made me really happy but also nervous and I was scared to mess up so I panicked. I thought maybe if I had finished the song I could get my feelings across so I met up with someone I knew from my time in high school and he helped me out. Semi Eita, the musician he helped me with the tune and the music in the background. I took a bit longer mainly because I needed it to be perfect and I was nervous.  So yeah but I’m gonna be a pro volleyball player babe, I didn’t know my voice was good until Semi suggested I sing it myself.”

“Wait like the Semi Eita,” your eyes sparkled, you loved his music, “You never told me you knew him. Wait sorry I’m off-topic, the song was perfect and you wrote these that long who knew you could be so romantic?” He looked at you slightly frowning, “Hey! I can be romantic ok. You try to top that. Humph!  I’m glad you like the song though. Oh also I’ll introduce you next week to Semi he’s been curious, something about someone who can handle the Tsukishima Kei. I don’t know what he’s talking about.” You jumped up, “I can’t wait. Yayyyy. Oh wait before I forget I didn’t wrap your gift but it’s over there, I kind of got necklaces, they match the rings.” You twirl around excitedly when suddenly he grabs you by the waist, “Well since your feeling so much better, maybe you can give me another gift,” he pulls you down to straddle his lap on the bed instantly attaching his lips to your neck.

You jokingly cough in his face and run as he chases you around the dorm shouting, “You damn pipsqueak when I catch you which you better hope I don’t, you’re so screwed.” He does eventually catch you but he drags you back to be for cuddles, kisses and a bit more. Needless to say, both of you did not attend classes tomorrow.

I always found it hard to be myself

But you made feel like no one else

A love like no other is what I really felt

So I’m in this in sickness and in health

So that’s what I thought the last verse could have been but I’m no song writer so I’m sorry if its horrible. On that note I hope you enjoyed the story. I encourage constructive criticism and I hope to see you again.

PS I am working on your requests I promise it’ll be here soon. 

If you liked my work, maybe you might want to buy me some coffee ☕️?

Question; Do you want what happened if Y/N decided not to be playful aka the NSFW?

[achubbydumpling]

Consider this: slightly chubby office worker bucky and lean, muscular steve who has a huge crush on him.

They work in the same department so Steve is always sneaking him food and rubbing his belly for him. Poor bucky keeps outgrowing his shirts and his pants barely go over his ass anymore but he doesn't wanna stop.

Bucky finally has to work from home when he gets too big for his office chair and his belly is almost constantly hanging out. All thanks to steve, of course.

Hello! I'm sorry for only answering this now, buuuuut this ask made me think of a very specific scenario for some reason? So, I hope you'll enjoy reading this... imagine? ficlet? this is neither edited nor proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes

Alright, I immediately jumped to Bucky working from home because he's outgrown his office chair. Maybe he hit the weight limit, maybe he's just gotten too wide to comfortably fit between the arm rests. Maybe he’s a gainer in this? In any case, he applies to work from home, and they grant him the request (anything to facilitate the kink, right? :D)

Rating: Mature Words: 1638 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Stuffing, Belly Kink, nicknames (pig), allusions to masturbation, mutual pining, maybe slight dub-con (Bucky doesn't know he's unmuted and Steve doesn't tell him right away)

The only requirement is that he has to be "on call" the entire workday. So, the next week on Monday Bucky sits down at his desk at home and logs in to the program his company makes him use for those calls.

And of course Steve picks up. The guy Bucky has had a not so subtle crush on since basically his first day. The blue eyed, blond haired subject of all of Bucky’s dreams, who is also the guy that Bucky has been eating his weight in junk over, because Steve keeps bringing in baked goods and Bucky can never say no to Steve.

On the other end of the call Steve is nervously chewing on his pencil until he finally hears Bucky’s warm voice say “Good morning.” A huge grin appears on his face without him wanting it to, but this is Bucky. So, of course he’s grinning like a maniac.

Bucky is just… Steve had tried to explain it to Nat once, but all he’d gotten out was a stupid “wow”, while grinning the same way he was right now. So, maybe he had a bit of an office crush, it’s normal when you spend 8h a day together, right? Bucky’s video feed is off and Steve is glad he didn’t stupidly turn his own camera on. He was debating it while he waited for Bucky’s call.

“So, do I just do my work, while I stay on this call or…?” Bucky asks when Steve didn’t respond. Steve scrambles out of his daydreams and nods. Then he remembers to actually say “Yes.”

“Alright,” was all that Bucky said and then the little red mute symbol pops up. Steve groans and rubs his hands over his face to get rid of that stupid smile.

“What’s up?” Bucky chimes back in, when Steve yelps in surprise, he adds, “you didn’t mute yourself. I could hear you… being annoyed, I think.”

“Sorry, Mondays.”

“Yeah,” Steve hears something crunching, “though my day has actually been pretty good so far.”

“Are you eating breakfast right now?” Steve looks at the clock—9:03 am.

“Nah, post-breakfast snack. I was craving something crunchy like those pig's ears you brought in on Friday.”

“That just sounds disgusting. Just call it a palm heart or a palmier.” Steve said the name of the pastry in a French accent in an effort to make Bucky laugh and when he did, his heart fluttered with a burst of warmth.

“Well, I’m having some cereal to make up for not having any pastries around.”

“Some?” Steve asked. He sobered quickly at the mention of what Bucky was actually eating, he hated how badly he was hiding his excitement at hearing what Bucky was eating. He’d been “subtly” pushing food on him since Bucky had first started working at the office. Steve doesn’t know a lot about flirting, but providing food seemed like a natural place to start.

Except he’s been stuck there for close to a year now. Every day he’d promise himself to finally ask Bucky out when he brings him one of the pastries, he brought in from that bakery on his way to the office, but when he’s actually looking at Bucky’s face, that lights up when he sees the sugary treat, Steve can never work up the courage and just slinks back to his own desk. And now Bucky wasn’t even in the office anymore.

Because you’ve fattened him up too much, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of Steve’s mind. It not like Steve was forcing Bucky to eat what he brought in, but all those treats right there in the break room surely weren’t helping with Bucky’s expanding waistline. Or those lunches they started taking together, where Steve always suggested they go out to eat instead of sharing a packed lunch in the break room. So, yeah, Steve wasn’t really at fault. Then why did he feel so goddamned proud whenever he saw Bucky’s shirts getting too small and the armrests on his chair digging into his plush sides?

Steve snaps back to reality when Bucky starts talking again.

“Just a bowl-full. Well, this is my second bowl, but cereal is pretty much mostly air, right?” They talk (argue) about what’s the best cereal after that, then what Bucky had for breakfast and then they somehow spend the entire morning talking like Bucky was still in the office and not all the way across town. Bucky refills his bowl twice before lunch rolls around at noon.

“Well, I’ll see you after lunch.” Steve reluctantly leaves his desk.

“I’ll be here!” Bucky calls before Steve takes of his headphones and heads into the breakroom to scarf down his lunch. He knows Bucky will probably only get back on the call once he has to work, but some small part of Steve hopes that if he eats fast enough he’ll get to spend at least part of his break chatting with Bucky.

When he makes his way back to his desk, Steve pops his headphones back on, plops down on his chair and immediately freezes at what he’s hearing. Bucky isn’t muted. Steve is listening to Bucky eat some kind of pasta dish, a very saucy pasta dish from the noises he can hear every time Bucky takes a bite and sucks the spaghettis he missed into his mouth. This is Steve’s personal hell, he thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.

Steve is just about to tell Bucky he’s unmuted when he hears him say, unmistakably, “Fucking pig.” It can get worse.

“Such a fat fucking pig.” Bucky muffles his moan with another mouthful of food. He must be close to finishing his food Steve thinks, then he blushes at realising he knows what Bucky sounds like when he’s getting full.

Bucky’s headphones must be lying on the desk, because they pick up the slide of skin on skin perfectly and Steve leans closer to his monitor even though there isn’t an image. He presses his hands over his headphones to make sure he hears all the little sounds Bucky is making and then he jolts back when Bucky burps loudly.

Steve’s eyes scan the office to make sure no one saw him jumping around on his chair like a scaredy cat, but no one is around. No one is around to see Steve listen very intently to his co-worker eating lunch. Stuffing himself.— Brain.Steve scolds himself, but then Bucky moans again and Steve can’t help but scoot his chair closer. One, to hide his growing erection and two, because logic has left his brain and he needs to get closer to hear better apparently. Steve turns up the volume and then takes his headphones off to make sure it’s no so loud that anyone walking by could hear the sound.

“Fuck, so good,” Bucky groans and Steve can hear his cutlery cluttering onto the desk. He can hear clothes rustling and suddenly the sound of Bucky rubbing his hands over the taut skin of his belly is back. It overtakes the connection for a long moment, that and Bucky’s shallow breathing.

“Best penne and pizza? Yeah, I can believe that.” Steve can hear Bucky’s chair groaning under him. Three suffering clicks from the chair and another pained belch from Bucky.

“If you keep eating like this you’re gonna get fat, Barnes.” Bucky chuckles to himself, “well, fatter.” Bucky exhales heavily, Steve can hear him shift again and his breathing gets heavier.

“Only thing missing is dessert. That’d make a real glutton outta me, not just overeating at lunch, but eating more sugar after,” Steve hears the familiar sound of Bucky popping his button to get comfortable, but Bucky doesn’t stop there, Steve hears the zipper being pulled down too. Steve’s heart skips a beat. Is he gonna—

“Get some feeder to bring it to me, some rich chocolate cake. No, ah, those little cake pops, that— that Steve brought in.” Steve holds his breath when he hears his own name in Bucky’s voice, the emphasis Bucky puts on his name.

“Steve—” He hears a bottle cap being snapped open. Ok, nope, this is too far, Steve decides and reaches for the mouse.

“Oh, my God, Bucky. You’re unmuted!” Steve just about shouts into the microphone. He immediately hears something clatter to the floor and then Bucky swearing.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I was just— This isn’t what it looks like. I’m— I was— How long were you listening?” The tips of Steve’s ears are burning and the blush is working it’s way down over Steve’s face.

“A few— just a bit. You said my name.” Steve adds, hopeful, even though Bucky was probably more worried about his co-worker almost catching him jerking off. Listening to him jerk off.

“Great, are we going straight to HR or is tomorrow fine?” Bucky asked resigned.

“How about dinner?” Steve didn’t know where he plucked the courage from, but when Bucky didn’t answer right away whatever ounce of courage had possessed him left just as quickly.

“I’m sorry—"

“No. No, yeah, that’s fine. Great! That sounds good.” Bucky floundered a bit but Steve couldn’t wipe that grin of his face again.

“Tonight?” Bucky added.

“It’s a date.”

[wtfevenismypage]

Observer Not Profiler PT.3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.

Warnings: maybe a curse word or two, mentions of death, anxious/nervous ticking, tic attacks

A/N: Hey all! Here’s part 3! Remember that requests are open! So is the taglist, however I may be closing the taglist in a few weeks! thank you for reading!

You never knew you were scared of being on private jets until Dr. Spencer Reid rolled along.

“Statistically, Private jets crash more so than commercial planes do. The rate is commonly expressed as the number of accidents per 100,000 flight hours. The accident and fatal-accident rates declined again in 2015. In fact, the fatal-accident rate fell below one to 0.84, meaning there was less than one fatal crash per 100,000 flight hours.”

You think he was trying to make you feel better, but it only made you even more terrified.

“I would like to join the Bureau!”

Emily smiles happily, she knew that getting to know you would be a blast, and your people reading skills would come in major handy.

“That’s wonderful!”

Garcia yells out before wrapping her arms around you, it makes you freeze at first, but the hesitation wears off and you hug her back before shaking hands with everyone else.

When you shake Dr. Reid’s hand, you linger for a second, barely a second, before shaking hands with Hotch.

“This is going to be difficult, you’ll need training.”

You nod, shaking his calloused hand firmly.

“Of course sir, I’m willing to go through all of the training in the world for this.”

He smiles, but barely, only noticeable if you were looking (which you are) and you feel ecstatic at the small gesture. 

“Well, we have a jet to catch, so let’s hurry up. wheel’s up in thirty.”

The first few weeks of training were intense, you were physically trained by Morgan, he got you into shape and gifted you with a subtle six pack that you could see if you squinted hard enough. 

Hotch trained you to handle a gun, which you kind of sucked at. Every time you shot it, you jumped five feet in the air and had a mini panic attack, which Hotch had to help you out with.

Emily, Rossi, and JJ made you into a pretty damn good interrogator, which made you smile every time they complimented you.

You were shocked when you learned that you actually did need lessons in profiling, you needed to learn certain behaviors at crime scenes when you couldn’t see the unsub. Reid helped you in that regard. He also told you all sorts of fun facts, which you happily listened to, you loved learning new things and you would even insist upon hearing the facts sometimes.

You and Penelope had races against each other to see who could get into what faster, so far you two were tied.

Today is the day though, your first day as an official member of the team. Surprisingly, you still couldn’t say the word profiler without spiraling, and you’ve been having anxious tic attacks all night and all morning.

As you walk into the doors to the big office in the early early morning, your wrists slam together twice, making you wince and rub them, feeling the bruises from last night scream in rage.

“I’ve gotta learn to stop that...”

You realize you’re the first in the office, so you just take a quick seat to try and ground yourself, but it instead spirals into a tic attack as you take in what’s finally happening after all of these long and torturous years. 

“Y/L/N. You alright?”

You turn to the cold voice, seeing Hotch standing at the top of the stairs. You thought you were alone, you hoped you were, but if anyone was going to be at the office, you weren’t surprised it was Hotch.

“Oh, sorry sir, I’m just having first day nerves! I feel like I’m back in middle school...”

He flashes you an understanding half-smile, walking up to you and patting your shoulder.

“Don’t worry too much, everyone here is already obsessed with you, you’ll fit right in.”

You smile, trying to act like you were okay,but when your fist harshly collides with the side of your head, you sigh and clutch the now bruised spot.

“Well, the others should be here soon, your desk is right there, next to Reid’s.”

You couldn’t stop the pink heat that bum-rushed it’s way onto your cheeks, trying to avoid Hotch seeing by moving to your new desk an sitting down, subconsciously clapping your palm against the desk.

“Wowie. I’m all official and everything huh?”

You smirk before the door clicks open, people beginning to enter the once-empty office space and making your nerves go through the roof once again.

That is, until Derek and Reid walk in with Garcia chatting about something random with Emily laughing at her.

“Hey Y/L/N! How’s the day so far?”

Derek asks, sitting on your desk. You immediately swat him off with a fake pout painted across your lips.

“Hey, I just got this space, I’ll be d-damned if I let some-some sweaty man sit on it.”

They didn’t miss your nervous stuttering, but in the short time the team had known you, they knew you hated when your tics were the center of attention, so they simply gave sad smiles and moved on.

“We have a new case, Y/L/N, I’ll give you a moment to adjust, round table in ten.”

Hotch walks away, back to his office before Garcia plops down on your desk. Derek notices how you don’t shoo her off and throws a whole fit.

“So you kick me off but not Penelope?”

“Is Garcia a-a sweaty m-man? I don-don’t think so!”

You all laugh before they sit down, Reid sitting next to you and logging into his computer before setting his stuff down.

“You ready for your first case?”

Reid asks, you shrug in response, a nervous smile plastered on your face.

“I g-guess we’ll find-find out.”

Your wrists slam together again, making you hiss in pain a bit, Reid looks concerned and takes one of your wrists in his hand, gently brushing one of his long, slender fingers over your bruised nerves.

“Well a better question, are these going to heal correctly?”

He asked with a sudden seriousness that you didn’t particularly enjoy. 

“Well I don’t know Mr. Genius, why don’t you tell me?”

He looks up at your sarcastic words and smiles a bit, cheeks being brushed with a bit of red as he answers.

“Well they won’t heal properly with your tics, if anything they could get worse, the veins in your wrists will actually get really damaged and it could affect your entire nervous system, you might want to get it-”

“Spencer, as much as I love listening to your rants, and I do, I don’t love listening to the ones about my health being in danger.”

He smiles and discontinues the topic, letting you take your wrists out of his gentle grip and returning to your computer.

“Alright everyone, let’s get to the round table.”

-

-

-

-

-

Throughout the entire case, you stick close with Reid, he made you feel safer than the others somehow. He didn’t say anything about you being with him the entire time, he just accepted the helpful points you gave him. 

One night, you two were up all night trying to find a connection, laying out on top of a desk, listening to Mozart (he insisted) and trying to make a connection between the victims.

You had gotten so excited when you finally made a connection you started jumping up and down with Spencer, holding his hands happily as he joined your silly theatrics.

He seemed to be the only person that can relax your anxiety, even just standing around him helped slow your tics. You didn’t know why he relaxed you, he just did. 

On the jet back to the BAU, the two of you shared earbuds to listen to classical music, you had left your headphones back in Oregon so Spencer offered his left earbud.

Even back at the offices when you were working with Penelope, he brought you green tea, telling you it would still keep you awake but it wouldn’t make you as jittery or paranoid as coffee would.

As soon as he left, Garcia started looking at you weird, giving you googly eyes.

“What?”

“You like him don’t you!?”

Your jaw drops, eyebrows furrowing down, your cheeks get all rosy. No way! You didn’t like him like that, you just enjoyed his company.

“No I don’t! You’re finally going crazy huh?”

“You totally do! You’re getting all blushy and everything!”

“I don’t like him like that! I’ve never liked anyone like that, why would it start now huh? It wouldn’t. I don’t like him.”

She gives you a doubtful look, but drops it, letting you spin around to another computer while sipping on your freshly hot green tea.

The next day, you take the elevator up with Spencer, Derek, and JJ, JJ and Derek were talking about some show, while you listened to Spencer ramble about how unrealistic the show was.

“But Spencer, Dr. Who isn’t very realistic, but you still love it don’t you?”

“Well yeah, but I’m immediately biased to Dr. Who for my love of it, with any other movie or show, I don’t hesitate to point out faults.”

You chuckle at that, Spencer’s passion for Dr. Who was unmatched for anyone else’s love for any show. It’s insane. 

“Okay before pretty boy goes on about Dr. Who for hours, let’s escape.”

The doors open, allowing you and the other team members to walk in. Your desk was still fairly empty, not even a plant there to accompany your computer, you were still holding onto your runaway life, whether you admit it or not.

“Y/L/N, I need to talk to you. My office now.”

“What was that about?”

Panic bubbles to your chest, Hotch’s tone was too assertive, too aggresive. It was scary.

“I don’t know...”

Taglist: 

@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @l0ve-0f-my-life @hopebaker @thatonezesty13 @nightlygiggless @aberrant-annie @holybatflapexpert @spencerreidisbootiful @april-14-blog @jackryan-plz @ajwantsapancake @lightswriting @emilouu @yourmisosoup @lizziebritish @101donuts @rainsong01 @pretty-boy-genius @squirrellover1967 @gublerstyles @delievia @boxofsparklingmuses @annestine 

[remmyswritings]

over the years//blaise zabini x reader

HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL PUFFS! HERE IS MY FIRST BLAISE ZABINI FIC AND REQUEST!! THANK YOU @peeves-a-legend​ FOR TRUSTING ME WITH THIS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT EVEN THOUGH YOUR HEART WILL MOST LIKELY BE CRUSHED! :) <3

also @summer-writes​ this is the work I decided to use for your writing challenge so I hope you also like it even if it crushed you. the prompt is bolded.

taglist: @curious-curios​, @summer-writes​, @willowbleedsonpaper​, @strawberriesonsummer​, @jenniweaslee​, @cherrycolakxsses​, @peeves-a-legend​, @booksmusicteaandanimals​, @heart-of-tempered-steel​, @firewhisky-kisses​

warning: there is a ton of angst, plus some vulgar language, but no worries it ends with fluffity fluff fluff

*Not my picture, found on Unsplash credit to creator*

You first met Blaise Zabini when he happened to stumble upon you as you sat under the tree near the Black Lake in your first year. Hogwarts and the idea of magic was all new to you and you found yourself becoming rather overwhelmed so you would go to that spot near the lake and listen to music, or read, or write with one of your muggle pens. At some point though it was no longer your spot, instead it became yours and Blaises spot. And that spot saw a lot of things happen over the years.

YEAR 1

“What is that thing you’ve been carrying around with you all day?” Blaise broke the silence between the two of you.

You looked up at him to see him motioning towards the Walkman in your lap, “Oh, this is a Walkman. It’s a muggle invention that helps you listen to music as you walk around.”

“How do you listen to it though?” Blaise peered at the thing inquisitively.

You pulled your headphones off and handed them to Blaise, watching as he slowly reached out and grabbed it only to hold it in his hands wondering what to do, “Here let me help you with that.”

Blaise watched as you shuffled over to him tentatively, still leaving enough space for him to back away. Then you grabbed the headphones and placed them on his head softly.

“There you go,” you whispered, and then looked down at the Walkman to make sure a new song played. You definitely liked how Blaise seemed to smile while he listened- of course you were never going to tell him that.

YEAR 2

You walked over to your spot under the tree only to find Blaise already sitting there. You knew that he saw you before you’d arrived by the tilt in his head and the small smile on his face. 

“Hello Blaise,” you smiled softly and plopped yourself down on the grass next to him.

He nodded towards you, “Hello Y/L/N,” and then returned to the book that he was reading.

By now, knowing that this was his sign that he didn’t want to talk, you pulled out your homework and worked on bits and pieces until you were done. Then you pulled out the famous Walkman that the two of you practically shared and instead of connecting your headphones in, you played it out loud for the two of you to enjoy. 

It seemed as though one song in particular had caught Blaise’s attention as he closed his book and laid it next to him, “What song is that one?”

“Hm,” you opened your eyes and looked towards him, “It’s Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles.”

Blaise nodded his head and as the cassette tape started over again, you saw how his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep. Some time later, it seems as though you had also fallen asleep and when you woke up you found yourself wrapped up comfortably in Blaise’s arm. While you wished to stay there for as long as you could, you knew that Blaise wouldn’t so slowly and softly you removed Blaise’s arm from your waist and packed up your stuff.

As you left you could have sworn you heard a Goodbye be muttered from Blaise’s lips, but you weren’t entirely sure.

YEAR 3

During your third year, you finally had the freedom to go to Hogsmeade and while you found it nice you definitely preferred your spot under the tree. Blaise, on the other hand, didn’t. Sometimes you wondered if it was from that day the two of you had fallen asleep or the fact that you hadn’t been able to write over the summer, but you felt as though Blaise had become rather distant. No matter, you thought to yourself, it’s not like it was officially our spot anyway.

Nonetheless you would still try your hardest to catch him there from time to time. Only to be greeted by his very cold demeanor… most of the time at least, today- it seemed- you were lucky.

“Hello Y/N,” Blaise greeted you softly. It was now spring so the grass was mostly wet and the air rather warm, but it was a climate you enjoyed the most.

You smiled and waved at him, “Nice seeing you around here Blaise.”

“It has been awhile,” he sat down close to you, closer than usual, “I’m sorry about that.”

You looked at him shell shocked, “Did the Blaise Zabini just apologize?”

“I thought Hufflepuffs weren’t supposed to have that type of attitude,” he chuckled.

You bobbed his nose with your finger, “I think that you should have learned by now that we Puffs can have one hell of an attitude.”

“Ya, I guess you can,” he smiled brightly at you as if he knew something that you didn’t. 

YEAR 4

“Someone looks tired,” you heard Blaise’s snarky remark before you saw him.

Not even bothering to say hello, you practically dropped to the ground hoping to find at least some form of comfort, “I am! And I couldn’t even find anything that works.”

Blaise placed the book that he was reading and then turned to you, “What are you talking about?”

“Ugh, only because I know you’ll pester me until I tell you,” you moved your body so that you could sit up and face Blaise, using the tree for support, “A bunch of girls in our year went shopping for their dresses and I decided to join them. Of course, the one dress that I absolutely loved cost way too much since I’d have to get all these alterations done. And since I had found it early on, I figured I’d go find Hermione or Ginny to get a Butterbeer only to be told that if I left the other girls that they would see me as a bitch.”

You hadn’t even realized that you were crying until you felt Blaise’s hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears. The two of you sat there in tranquility until that happened to be destroyed by the one and only Zacharias Smith.

“Y/N,” you could feel the arrogance radiating off of him, “there you are. I was wondering if you’ve thought of a response to my proposition.”

He clearly ignored Blaise sitting next to you, his arm now wrapped around your waist. 

“I already told you Smith,” frustration dripping from every word, “I’m not gonna go to the Ball with you… so please leave me alone.”

Before either boy could react, you stood up and stomped back to the castle, not before you purposely rammed Smith in the shoulder knowing he would turn around at you only to see a middle finger instead of your face. 

YEAR 5

It seemed as though this year, Blaise and you had both decided to go to your spot the first day back. The arrival of the pink toad- excuse me, Umbit… no Umbridge- felt like the end of the world. And you knew that the end of the world was coming, as you had stayed with the Weasleys the whole summer. When you saw Blaise, you found yourself having a new feeling in your body, as if everything just glowed when he was around. But when he saw you, all he saw was bright, fiery red- who could blame him though, you had promised to write, even to try and visit, but he didn’t get a single letter from you.

“I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal,” he scoffed at the sight of you.

You frowned and crossed your arms, “Of course, I’m loyal. I wouldn’t have been your friend all these years if I wasn’t.”

“Really because you told me that you’d write that we’d talk about what happened last year and you didn’t even send me a scrap of paper,” the tenseness in Blaise’s body kept on getting worse and worse as he spoke.

You faltered when you finally saw the pain within his eyes, “I-” you hesitated, “I’m sorry. I wish I could give you a good reason as to why I didn’t write but please just trust me when I tell you that if I could have, I would have.”

“Like that is supposed to help,” he crossed his arms in front of you. “I mean, how can you tell someone you love them right after you kiss them and then not even bother to write.”

Blaise’s voice was starting to strain and you no longer just saw his pain, you heard it too, “I love you too much to lie and give you some bullshit excuse and you and I both know that I can’t tell you the truth.” 

You slowly walked over to Blaise and when you reached him, you held your hands up in surrender, “Can I touch you?” you whispered.

He nodded and your hands came to cup his face and wipe away the tears, much like he had done for you the year prior. Then he was the one to act, he grabbed you by your wrists and instead of pulling you away as you thought, he brought each of your palms to his mouth and kissed them. You couldn’t help but step even closer to Blaise, his arms then dropped only to wrap around your waist. 

The two of you looked at one another and slowly leaned in not even realizing your movements until your noses touched. Blaise leaned in even more so that his forehead touched yours, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whispered. Blaise’s lips meet yours and you felt a whirlwind of emotion the second it did. 

At first you felt his frustration from earlier, but then he relaxed and you felt his love and passion for you. Neither of you wanted to stop yet when you felt your lungs screaming for air you broke away, only to see his lips chase yours.

You chuckled at the action, “Let me catch my breath first.”

Blaise was shocked at how he reacted and wasn’t able to stop the slight blush that grew on his cheeks, “I’d like to be your boyfriend… that is if you want me to be.”

You giggled a bit at the way he asked and then pecked his lips softly, “I’d love it if you were my boyfriend.”

YEAR 6

You wish you could say that the last year with Blaise had been filled with just love and tender moments between the two of you, but after watching Sirius Black get murdered at the Department of Ministries, you knew you could no longer play pretend. You loved Blaise, you loved him in such a way that you had never loved anyone, but you knew the danger that came with being with him, especially because of your blood status. You’d already sent your parents away, obliviating their memories of you before making them believe that they should go to live in the U.S. and then going to stay with the Weasleys. Standing in your spot, you fretted over how to tell him so much that you hadn’t even realized he had arrived. 

“Hello mi principesa,” he wrapped you up in a hug and gave you a loving kiss on your forehead.

His action brought you out of your head, “Oh, hi Blaise.”

“You alright mi principesa?” he backed away slightly so that he could get a good look at you having learned over the years the little traits you showed when you were nervous.

You merely nodded your head not trusting your voice in that moment. Your eyes went down to your hands, which were playing with one another, and then out to the Lake knowing that the second you looked at Blaise everything would break. 

He knew what you were doing and yet he struggled to know why, not a single idea came to mind. Blaise didn’t enjoy seeing you like this, it pained him when you kept everything in. Slowly, so as to not startle you, he grabbed one of your hands and pulled it to his chest, “Please tell me what’s going through that beautiful head of yours.”

“You know,” you started, “the memories I have with you, are the best memories that I have. Not even my memories of getting my letter, being introduced to this world, sharing it with my parents, getting into Hufflepuff… none of those are my best memories. Which is why I need to keep it that way.”

Blaise could tell which way the conversation was going and if only you could know how badly he didn’t want it to continue, but he also knew you needed this so he squeezed your hand as a signal to continue.

“I can’t stay-” your voice started to break, “I can’t stay here, and I can’t stay with you.”

Blaise shook his head, “No. no. no. We’ll figure this out, maybe I can get my mother to help you into hiding.”

The tears that had grown in your eyes started to fall, “Baby, you know I can’t do this. The Order has asked that I watch over some people for them, but I need you to let me go.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Blaise had started crying too, “What if I just want to keep you here with me? I need you mi principesa.”

Hearing those last words only made your tears worse, “Please, Blaise…” you were practically begging at this point, “I need you to let me go, at least until this is all over okay. I’ll come find you right here, and I’ll wait for you in this very spot. I promise”

Blaise didn’t know if it was the fact that you were begging or the fact that you had promised to come back to him, but something in him let you go. He opened his eyes, the tears coming to a slow stop to see you looking just as wrecked in front of him, “Can I at least get one last kiss?”

You practically flung yourself at him after that question. If you had considered your first kiss to be passionate this one was even more so. The two of you poured everything you felt for each other and for the situation in front of you: all the pain, desperation, sadness, hurt, frustration, concern, devotion, adoration. It practically burned you and Blaise, but you didn’t care. You needed to burn just one more time before you drowned in what was to come.

YEAR 7

Standing in front of the Great Hall, your heart broke into a million pieces. So many people died or hurt, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You had spent the whole year running that you didn’t exactly have the time to think, to feel. And now that you did, you weren’t entirely sure how to feel. You should feel happy that you won, happy that you were alive. But how could you feel that when Fred, Remus, and Tonks and so many others all lost their lives in this fight. And Blaise, you didn’t even know if he was here anymore. Hermione had told you about how they had run into him, how he asked about you but ran off when he found out they didn’t know anything. 

Your spot, finally you remembered that if he would be anywhere it would be there. You rushed out of the Great Hall trying your hardest not to run into any person or any of the fallen pillars, not even realizing when Prof. McGonagall and Prof. Sprout gave you a knowing look. The two of them having done what they could to keep Blaise alive. When you finally made it, it was if you were looking at heaven. There he was, the love of your life, and from what you could tell he didn’t have a scratch on him.

“Blaise,” you ran down the hill jumping into his arms not even hesitating. 

He wasn’t sure how to react when he heard your voice, but holding you in his arms he finally knew that everything would be okay, “mi principesa,” he mumbled over and over. 

The two of you stayed in each other’s arms for what seemed like forever, only moving slightly when you pulled his face down to yours so as to kiss him. While your goodbye kiss had been fervent and messy, this one was graceful and slow. You knew you had all the time in the world now, nonetheless you were gonna enjoy the hell out of this kiss. It’s as if you were exploring each other’s bodies for the first time, not being able to keep your hands off one another but in a way that said more I need to make sure you are here with me and less of a I need you to fuck me. When you finally separated, your foreheads stayed connected and at some point you found your hand roaming Blaise’s chest until it found his heart and that’s where it stayed.

“I told you I’d come back,” you whispered, “and… if you’ll have me, I plan on staying.”

“Stay, please. And let me follow you this time, wherever you go.”

“Ok, I will.”

The two of you went silent and merely basked in each other’s embrace, waiting your longest to let go, knowing that that would start the next phase of your lives. Cause in that very moment all you wanted- no needed- was Blaise with you in your spot under that tree. 

--

should I do a separate fic of their wedding or Blaise proposing at their spot?

[basicjetsetter]

Part II

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death, Depression, Triggering Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

▹ Words: 3k

▹ A/N: ATTENTION! This is an emotionally heavy part. Please DO NOT READ if you know you will be affected. For those struggling with depression, I see you, I care for you, and I love you. You’re not alone and you are undeniably worthy of love.

-Five Years and Twenty Nine Days Later-

You don’t want to get up.

Your phone’s alarm clock is rounding on its tenth circuit, if your counting is correct… and there’s a good chance you blanked out for fifteen minutes while watching a strip of sunlight lethargically inch down your blanket to the foot of the bed, so your number may be off by six or seven.

It’s not that you’re tired or anything, or maybe you are and that’s beside the point. It’s just that your bed is far too comfortable for your own good and you know today is Saturday, the busiest day at Hal’s Diner, and it just so happens you’re scheduled for an 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. brunch rush. If you had a choice, you’d stay in bed.

But you don’t. And you’re running twenty minutes late… for the fourth time in two weeks.

I’ve got you.

Shut the fuck up.

You wearily snarl, snatching your pillow out from under your head and slamming it against your face, uselessly stuffing it over your ears as if that would somehow miraculously block out the words. 

Usually, the voice stayed quiet. After three years of the repeated promise drifting around your brain like a lost ship at sea, you had finally figured out how to anchor it to the deepest, darkest, most unchartered recess of your mind. Every now and then, though, they’d find a way to rattle the chains, just to remind you of their eternal presence, but it never lasted long. You didn’t acknowledge them anymore. They no longer fooled you.

But, twenty-nine days ago, something reinvigorated the voice, giving them a renewed sense of purpose and a reason to break free.

Twenty-nine days ago, on the exact anniversary of their disappearance, everyone came back. 

Out of the blue, in the middle of the day, all of the people Earth mourned for five years reappeared to a very, very stunned world. Celebration rocked the streets of New York and all over the globe. Lovers lost returned. Mothers. Fathers. Sisters. Brothers. Babies. Friends. They all came back. And the voice in your head broke free of its chains, rampantly bouncing around your mind as if they were on pure steroids, ready to charge forward and find the one your Destined Words belonged to. 

Everything reverted back to normal.

Except, besides your newly released Destined Words, nothing changed for you.

You weren’t there when… when your best friend rematerialized in your previous apartment. You moved to a smaller, modestly priced place six blocks away. It was great for what little money you had, and your landlords, a lovely couple that always leaves you a present outside your door for Christmas and birthdays, were generous enough to accommodate for your lack of funds.

You just couldn’t keep your parents’ apartment. Not when you knew they weren’t coming back. 

No one ever speaks about the casualties of the ones lost that day, the ones who perished from the effects of the blip. For a long time, you just couldn’t cope with the fact that a swerving hit from a rogue truck whose driver turned to dust was all it took to take your parents away. But you had to move on.

Ever since that day five years ago, you’ve been on your own.

You’re sure your friend tried looking for you by now, continually calling up a retired cellphone number, searching through deleted social media accounts, maybe even asking your old high school for your whereabouts to no avail. Even though you’re not far from home, she’d never find you. 

You don’t want to be found. You like being alone.

With a great, gusty sigh, you roll out of bed, grab some clothes and undergarments, then pad to the bathroom, ignoring the chiming circuit of your alarm clock. It can wait. You go through the motions: washing up, putting your hair in its regular bun, brushing your teeth, and staring at your unaged face in the spotted mirror.

It’s not vanity, though it’s common knowledge that your features will be impervious to aging for a long while. You literally haven’t aged a single day since the blip.

It was an intriguing phenomenon after the first two years. Everyone your age who had heard their Destined Words but had yet to meet their Soulmate just stopped aging, and when the younger generation hit the age of eighteen, they stopped aging as well. For some, like you, the effect was felt rather than seen. Ever since the string inside you snapped, you knew that cosmic time would stand still until you connected with your other soul. You’re not holding your breath for that anytime soon.

As you step out of the steam-filled bathroom, your alarm blares out its last chime before switching to the Vmm Vmm Vmm of an incoming call.

You pick up on the sixth ring. “Good morning, Hal.”

“This is the fourth—”

“The fourth time. I know, I know. I’m on my way.”

Hal grunts into the receiver, “Don’t get smart with me, little lady. Just because you’re my best server doesn’t mean I won’t fire you.”

That’s precisely what that means, and he knows you know it. You blow out a sigh, “I’m seriously almost out the door. Like two steps.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, a hint of a grin in his quizzical noise. “Well, hightail it, would’ya? The joint’s packed already and I need all hands on deck, so scoot.”

“Scooting,” you confirm, snagging your bag off of your sofa and grabbing your keys. “Who’s with me today?” Please don’t say Wendy. Please don’t say Wendy.

“Chris and Wendy.”

You groan as you shut the door behind you. “Come on, Hal. She’s dead weight in the morning. I might as well be working with a zombie in an apron.”

Hal grumps, “At least the zombie gets here on time.”

“Have you had coffee yet? You’re not you when you’re decaffeinated.” It’s true. Even with your truancy, Hal wouldn’t hold it over your head more than twice. He’s usually as chipper as a dog in a dog park at this time, bustling and joking up a storm.

He takes a loud sip, then says, “We’re slammed, is all, and I’m missing my best hand.” Two disgruntled heys ring in the background and Hal immediately issues apologies. “Just get here, will ya?”

Before you can remind him again that you are on your way, he disconnects the call.

You’re wondering if it’s too late to go back to bed.

The little, infamous family diner is only seven blocks south of your apartment building, a nice walk when the weather’s good and a pain in the ass when it’s not. You used to enjoy the quiet mornings and the stillness that came with it, but ever since things went back to normal, you can’t survive the walk without a pair of headphones jammed in your ears and your music’s volume turned all the way up. Everyone’s just so… loud.

Thankfully, today, the walk is a straight shot and you’re in the doors within fifteen minutes.

It’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals. Worse, it’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals and being stuck with the task of serving them.

“Look who’s finally decided to show up,” Wendy chides, stifling a yawn as she shuffles to a table and places down three menus. She’s twenty-two years old and likes setting your teeth on edge.

You deadpan, “Did the cat drag you in from the front door or the back?”

“Knock it off, you two,” warns Chris, walking by with two arms balancing four plates of the Sunrise Breakfast Special. He looks at you, then jerks his chin back to the kitchen. “Boss is about to blow his top.”

Nodding, you make your way to the back, giving a small wave to some regulars. Out of breath and sweat running down his reddened neck, Hal is moving like a man caught in a whirlwind, flipping eggs and pancakes and sausages and hash browns and bacon while checking orders and filling plates. As soon as he hears the kitchen door close and sees you, he visibly sags in relief.

“Don’t bother clocking in. Just put your apron on and get out there.”

You nod. Set down your things. Put on your apron. Arrange a plastic smile.

Go through the motions.

It’s all the same thing every single day. Wake up, work, school, sleep. Repeat. Unlike the other constants, school is something you’re temporarily trying out. It wasn’t your original plan, the whole four years to a bachelor’s degree, then some more years for a master’s. You gave that up long ago. Right now, you’re just taking a free weekend art class at a community college. Oddly enough, it’s something you’re beginning to look forward to on Saturdays and Sundays.

Work, while you’re great at what you do, is never a highlight. 

Hal was right. The diner is slammed, and you’re swept up in the current of rude, demanding customers, snide remarks from Wendy, cheerful shrugs from Chris, and barking orders from Hal for six whole hours. You work through your two fifteen-minute breaks. No one reminds you. You slip on spilled hash browns. No one helps you. You bring back a plate three times to satisfy a customer who kept finding fault with their eggs. No one thanks you.

Everything is back to normal.

I’ve got you.

“Fuck off,” you snap, slapping a hand to your mouth when you see the elderly woman you’re serving knit her brows in revulsion. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m-I’m sorry, I was—”

She stands and marches out of the diner before you could explain, snatching her ten-dollar tip off the table.

“… talking to myself,” you finish under your breath.

She’s the last of the brunch rush, leaving only the regular afternoon crowd and a few stragglers. The clock near the cash register reads 2:13 p.m.

You brush off the disappointment of a lost tip and head to the kitchen to grab your things and leave, Chris and Wendy following you. Hal’s two other workers, the ones here till closing, cover the floor well. Not like they had much to do.

Hal is whistling a jaunty tune when you walk in, stopping to salute you, Chris, and Wendy with an exhausted grin. “Nice work out there, you guys. See you tomorrow.”

Wendy is out the door the instant she clocks out.

Chris catches your arm as you grab your bag from your small locker. “Hey, um, I sort of heard your little outburst, and I was wondering if you were okay.”

You nod, gently shrugging his hand off. “Yeah, it’s just a tip. I made enough.”

“No, not that,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat and pushing a hand through his choppy beach-blond hair. He ineptly bends his head down a little, getting close enough for a private conversation you do not want to have. “It’s just… you’ve done that before and I just want to make sure everything’s alright with you.”

You can’t put the plastic smile back on, he’s seen it too many times to know it’s not real, so you half-heartedly grin. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, anytime. Hey, so, me and a couple friends are hanging out tonight. There’s gonna be a music festival in Cunningham Park. Wanna hang?”

Chris tries this every week. At first, you thought it was his bashful attempt at asking you out, but he’s a happily taken man with a big heart and a lot of friends. Every customer he meets, boom, they’re friends and soon loyal customers of Hal’s. It’s a gift. You just wish he caught your not-so-subtle hints of evasion.

Tonight, though, you had the perfect excuse. “Can’t. I got class.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “On a Saturday night?”

“Yeah. It’s a free course. Get it where I can take it, you know,” you awkwardly laugh, hoping Chris wasn’t offended as you take a couple of steps back towards the exit.

His smile doesn’t falter. “Maybe next time, then.”

Not likely. “Sure, yeah. See you later.”

You duck out before he says goodbye, dashing out the front door and speed-walking home.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

You stop dead in the middle of a sidewalk.

Where did that come from? It’s never said it three times in a row before. Does… does that mean something?

Your breath quickens at the thought, and you spin around, scanning the vacant street. You’re the only one occupying the sidewalk, you and a curious squirrel sniffing at the crisp air. There’s not a person in sight. When you’re certain you’re in the clear, pivoting a glance around one more time for good measure, you pick up the pace, practically running the rest of the way home.

Once you’re in your apartment and the door shuts, you desperately whisper to your mind, “Don’t say it anymore. I don’t want them, okay? I don’t want a Soulmate.”

Nothing.

“I know you hear me,” you bite out aloud, forcefully shoving back the urge to yell. “Stop saying the words.”

Still nothing.

Silence rings hollow in your mind like the voice is waiting for your temper to cool down. Like it knew it upset you and felt chastened enough to back off and take a time out in a corner.

You stand immobile in the middle of your cramped sitting area. Tense. Waiting. Waiting longer than you care to admit. The urge to fight deserts you as quick as it comes, but you’re still standing there with your fists balled up, feeling more and more defeated as the minutes drain away.

The voice isn’t going to leave you alone. You know that. It’s here to serve one purpose, and the only thing holding it up is you. You’re meant to meet whoever those words belong to… but then what? They magically fix you? They love you back to normal? Five years ago, you may have believed they can do that. But, the problem is, you’ve gone through enough life-altering events in the last five years to last you a lifetime, and this one person, this person destined to pair with your soul, won’t be your wave-of-a-wand solution.

You just want it to stop.

I’ve got you.

A lone tear slides down your cheek as you trek to your bed and climb in fully clothed.

For a long time, you simply stare up at the ceiling as the tears leak out the corners of your eyes. You make no noise, and your chest doesn’t jerk up and down with sobs. The tears gather, and then they fall. Gather and fall. Gather and fall until there are no tears left. You continue staring at the ceiling.

You think back to the days when those godforsaken words and the future they foretold brought you happiness. What a wonderful promise, pairing with someone who will always be there for you in some capacity and will instantly love you. You can’t recall any Soulmate story not working out. Maybe they just never speak about it. Why mar the fantasy?

The sun dipped below the horizon a while ago, and now the moon shines bright in the night sky. You missed your art class.

Your body is as stiff as a board when you sit up. There’s a tight pounding in your forehead, either from crying or lack of food, but you aren’t bothered enough to deal with it. Instead, you move to the only window in your room and pull back the curtains to gaze at the stars. Not many are out yet, but they glitter like gems around the moon, and the night sky nears a lovely shade of midnight blue.

The sight is so pretty; you find yourself grabbing a couple of paint bottles, brushes, and a small canvass, then heading out of your apartment, walking up six flights of stairs to reach the roof.

It’s quiet when you get up there, save for the noise of zooming cars below. The first time you came up on the roof, just out of curiosity, you loved how solitary it felt, loved the view overlooking the building-strewn skyline and the overall height of the complex. It became a nice place to visit when you wanted to be by yourself.

You walk over to the edge of the building, sitting your supplies down on the ledge, then look up at the sky for the best angle to capture the moon and the stars.

The sky is vast. So endless. So open. So free. You stop scoping out for the perfect angle and just admire the shining moon when your eyes land on it. It’s waning, only a sliver of its surface visible as it prepares to transition into a New Moon. Then you gaze at the stars as they dimly twinkle back at you… like they can see right through you.

Like they can see your sadness.

You step closer to the ledge, each step laden with the weight of smothered grief. You lost everyone. Your parents. Manda. She’d never recognize the person you’ve become.

You step onto the ledge, not looking down but up, trying to memorize the image.

You lost your Soulmate. That broken string in your chest never felt the same, even after everyone came back. Maybe you were too far gone for any connection.

You turn around. You’d thought you’d feel numb, but acceptance fills you. It’s okay to let go.

You lower your eyes, slowly lean back, and let gravity take over.

Air sails past your ears in a rush as you fall, and you can’t really focus on anything except your erratic heartbeat. You don’t struggle as your body wants. You just fall and wait.

And then, in a sudden flash of red and blue, you’re propelling sideways and swinging upwards, a strong arm pressing you against a hard chest.

“I’ve got you.”

As soon as he said the words, you knew who they belonged to, as if you knew this entire time. Even with the mask covering his face, you knew. But it still doesn’t stop you from incredulously saying, “Peter?”

His masked face snaps to yours. A small part of you tries to pin his surprise on you correctly guessing his identity, but something bigger assures you the reason for his alarm is a match to your own.

He knows you’re his Soulmate.

...

Part III

[1000roughdrafts]

Hope is a Dangerous Thing...(1)

Request for anon based on the song Hope is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman to Have by Lana Del Ray 🥰💕

Summary: The renowned author of a best-selling crime novel, Y/N Y/L/N, was thrown into a whole new world after her parents were brutally murdered. Their killer never found, Y/N took things into her own hands, meeting the Winchesters in her journey for justice. Even years later, she struggles to let anyone close in fear they’d leave or worse.

Warnings: angst, fluff, language, adult themes, drinking mentioned, supernatural-styled violence

A/N: anon, I really hope you like this, I hope it’s okay that it got so long, as you can see I made it a two-parter due to the massive word count this whole accumulated lol. I more so based the character off my interpretation of the song, and I really hope I do it justice. Next part will come out soon and have all the juicy stuff. Everyone, buckle in, this is a long one :)

Word Count: 3.7k

After years of being the first one to wake up, it had become sort of an unspoken rule that Y/N would make the coffee in the mornings. Sam was never too far behind her, especially if he was going for a run, though he’d rarely have coffee before that. Y/N almost always had her thirty to forty minutes alone to read while she sipped her coffee under a dim lamp in the library.

On a nice day, she’d take her coffee and notebook to the slim platform above the bunkers door. She’d slide her legs under the railing to let her feet dangle, sometimes using it to prop her hands up while writing. Most of the time, however, she’d just stare into the sky as the night changed to morning. Or she’d watch the cars as they passed by, mentally creating stories for the people who drove them, always giving them better than she had.

This morning, like any other, she gets out of bed after a night of tossing and turning, and goes straight for the kitchen to prepare for the day. When she rounds the corner and sleepily waves her hand over the light switch, she makes it halfway into the kitchen before realizing the light was already on. A frustrated, yet soft sigh escapes her. Until noticing the pot of freshly brewed coffee, she’d assumed one of the brothers had carelessly left it on over night.

Going for her favorite mug, she reaches for where it usually sits on the rack before her eyes can fully scan the shelves, unintentionally grabbing a square whiskey glass. She pivots, setting the glass onto the counter as she looks around, giving up when she hears footsteps coming from the hall.

Thinking perhaps Sam had grabbed it by mistake, she rubs her eyes and waits for him to enter the kitchen, surprised when the mug thief turns out to be Dean. The smile he gives her makes her feel even more exhausted. Surely, she’s still dreaming if he’s awake at this hour.

His arm extends towards her, coffee mug in tow, “I tried to beat you to it this morning, bring you the coffee this time, but uh,” his words taper off as he looks down at the cup she has yet to grab.

“Oh,” she utters quietly, stepping forward to grab the warm cup from him, “thanks.

“Yeah,” he says with a shake of his head. He turns to face the table, his robe flowing behind him like a cape. Setting his coffee onto the table, he wraps the robe around his torso before sitting down.

Too caught up in her own thoughts, Y/N doesn’t notice the concerned glance from Dean. Eyebrows scrunched, he watches her wrap both hands around the mug as she brings it to her lips.

He quickly switches his gaze to the counter behind her, in fear she’d catch him watching her. His eyes happen to land on the glass she’d set there just moments before. He chuckles and looks down into his mug, suddenly wishing he’d added a bit of that whiskey to his coffee.

“Hm?” Y/N hums, shuffling over to sit across from him.

“Huh? Oh,” he says, looking back over at the glass with a pointed finger. “Were you wanting something a bit stronger than coffee?”

She lets out a laugh of her own, “no, I’m just stupid tired this morning.”

He nods slowly, “what’s on the agenda for today, anyway? A little morning drink wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?” he teases, only partially joking.

Taking a sip from her coffee, she shakes her head before she could even properly think about the suggestion. Her mind and thoughts now permeated by flashbacks of the last time the two of them drank solo. Getting shitfaced with the older Winchester showed to be interesting, to say the least. She wasn’t sure what had been on his mind that night, but she knew that the alcohol only strengthened the feelings she’s been suppressing for years. She’s sure that if he wanted to he’d have made a move by now. He probably thought of her as nothing but a little sister.

“As tempting as that sounds, we should hit the road soon,” she sighs, taking a gulp of her coffee. She ignores the way it burns going down, but realizes how it tastes exactly as if shed made it herself, despite never sharing how she takes her coffee.

“Ah, but we had so much fun the last time,” he smiles, and Y/N‘s breath escapes her. He clears his throat, “we got a case?” he asks in a breath, leaning back in the chair.

Y/N sets the cup in front of her, resting her head in her hand. Looking back up at Dean, she says, “I was scrolling through articles last night and found something in Florida.”

Nodding he asks, “which part?”

Bringing the cup to her mouth, she whispers, “Naples,” before taking a sip.

He sucks air in through his teeth. “That’s at least a two day drive,” he says, shaking his wrist to get a look at his watch. “Wait, Naples?” he asks, tilting his head. “Isn’t that your hometown?”

She looks at the table to avoid the question, “I also saw something in Tennessee that we could check out on the way there,” she shrugs. “Make use of the miles,” she says, keeping her head down.

He lays his palm flat against the table, wanting to take her hand in his, but lowers his voice instead. “You weren’t reading about them again, were you?” he asks, his eyes coasting from his hand and onto her as she looks anywhere but him.

“No one found out who... or what did it,” she says in a soft whisper. “What if these are connected?”

With an eyebrow raised, he utters, “what if they’re not?” before he could stop himself.

Her eyes pierce up at him, eyebrows pushed together. The chair screeches, echoing in the kitchen as she scoots back to stand. Before she could take a step, he jumps to grab her hand.

“Wait,” he says, pausing to see if she relaxes before continuing. She keeps her body facing away, but lets her eyes meet his. “I’m all for tracking that fucker down, believe me, I just... Sam and I, we’ve been there, and the thing that killed your parents,” he clicks his tongue, “it could be long gone by now.”

Ripping her arm away from him, she sits in the chair. Arms crossed against her chest, she looks him over in deep thought. The door of the bunker clunks open and shut. Dean and Y/N look in its direction to see Sam jogging down the steps.

His head tilts when he sees Dean. With a smirk, he chuckles, “you’re up early.”

Dean pauses, softening his expression as he looks Y/N over. Glancing into his cup before looking back at Sam, he straightens out his back to stand. “Y/N found us a case,” he says with a smile and raised eyebrows, storming over to the coffee pot.

Sam’s upper lip and eyebrows raise as he opens his mouth, immediately closing it when he sees Dean’s tight lips and Y/N’s eyes hyper focused on her coffee.

“Uh, okay great,” he says slowly, wiping sweat from his forehead before following Dean to the coffee. “Where at?”

--

Rain beats down on the roof of the Impala as Dean drives through Illinois, looking for a place to shack up for the night. After nearly nine hours of sitting in a car with a dead phone and her two roommates, Y/N is restless at the thought of stretching her legs and venturing out on her own for a bit.

Having headphones saved her from listening to Sam’s habitual sniffling for the first six hours, but not from the papers he’s pulled out the last three to shuffle through after her phone died. Her eyes catch Dean’s in the rear view mirror by accident, and she realizes how zoned in on him she’d been, recalling that he’d barely spoken a word. Occasionally he tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel while his music played quietly on the stereo, or he’d mumble some response to Sam if he asked a question, but mostly reserved his voice for fuel-ups.

Feeling a bit playful, Y/N takes a risk. “Hey, Dean,” she says, voice croaking, drawing attention to how little she’d spoken as well. Clearing her throat, she waits for him to look into the mirror again, smiling when he does. “Are we there yet?” she whines, laughing when he rolls his eyes.

“You’re lucky we’re stopping for the night,” he chuckles before putting his eyes back on the road. “Just a few miles until a motel,” he says through a yawn.

Sure enough, only ten minutes later he’s pulling the Impala into the parking lot of a motel advertising vacancy. Without a word, he opens the door to head into the small office.

Sam collects the papers, scooting back in the seat to reach for the bag between his legs. He stuffs the notes in a book and puts it into the bag. A few minutes of comfortable silence pass before Sam says her name.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks, without turning to face her.

She keeps her eyes on the rain drops that slip down the window, cheering on the little one as it slowly coasts between two steady stream. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she says softly.

He turns to face her, the seat squeaking as he pushes his body against it. “You sure? Cause if you ask me, I don’t think we’re driving all the way to Naples for a case.”

The underdog of a droplet collides with one of the streams, and she lets out a breath. “Don’t do this now, Sam. Please?” she begs.

“I’m not doing anything, I just,” he sighs, his eyes shifting to glance through the driver’s side window at Dean as he walks back to the car. “We care about you is all,” he says, flopping back around in the seat to face the dashboard.

The door opens with a sharp clang, followed by a low sigh as Dean plops into the seat, his legs still hanging out of the car. His arm stretches over the seat to dangle a key in front of Y/N’s nose.

“Rooms come with one bed here,” he says shrugging, “least that’s what’s left, and I figured you’d want your own.”

“Thanks,” she says meekly, taking the key. Grabbing her bag, she opens the door to step out of the car and scans the numbers of the doors for hers. “I’ll see you guys in the morning,” she smiles.

---

The rattle of the door as Y/N pounds her fist against it wakes Dean in a panic. Through the thin wall she can hear him shuffling around and Sam laughing as he walks over to let her in. Handing him a cup of coffee, she pulls another from the carrier for Dean, setting it on the nightstand beside him as he gathers himself.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” she taunts. “Ready to hit the road?”

He shakes his head, grabbing the coffee and removing the lid to take a sip.

“Uh, first I wanted to go over some details about the case,” Sam says, sitting in the chair. Setting the coffee on the desk, he turns to face Y/N, “I was doing some research and found similar cases in the area; all profound people, all killed ten years after their success kicked off, and all in the same way: hearts ripped out of their bodies,” he says, adding in a softer tone, “the same way your parents died.”

Feeling defensive, she points a finger at him, “I know what you’re thinking, but it can’t be Hell Hounds. Their deaths would have been... messier,” she says, crinkling her nose, “and - and my parents would have never made a deal with a demon. Their success was their own,” she says, jaw tightening with concealed anger. She takes a heavy breath, “besides, they died fifteen years after their business took off. It doesn’t fit.”

Sam only nods, swallowing before glancing over at Dean who stays quiet, standing to gather things. Y/N looks between the two of them. Could they really think these people, or - or her parents were killed for wanting success? Most people don’t even know what they’re getting into when signing a deal with a demon, anyway! And her parents... they got where they were because of hard work and long nights, not because some demon handed their success on a platter. 

“We should get going soon,” she says, turning to get her bags stuffed into the car.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Dean stops packing and turns to Sam. “I think she might be right,” he shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hell Hounds, they’re brutal, they - they rip their victims to shreds.”

“Yeah, but they’ve been known to literally scare people to death at times, or - or lead them to commit suicide-”

“Neither of which happened here, and it still doesn’t explain the missing hearts,” Dean sighs, throwing a bag over his shoulder as he stands.

“Right,” Sam whispers, “so we’re just supposed to ignore obvious signs of a deal because she can’t admit her parents may have sold their souls? I mean, monsters evolve, we’ve seen it before.”

Dean drops the bag by the door and turns to face Sam. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, to you of all people, but come on Sam, have a little sympathy. You remember finding out mom made that deal with yellow eyes? That kind of thing... it guts you,” Dean says.

“That was different, Dean, she did it to save Dad,” he scoffs, “and if she didn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

Dean sighs, “well, she needs to figure it out on her own,” he grabs his bag and turns the knob on the door, “like we did.”

-

After a day and a half of driving, Dean pulls the Impala into a tight parking spot of the police station.

“Alright, we got here with just enough time to spare,” he says, clearing his throat. He shuts off the engine, and turns around to face Y/N, “you stay here.”

“Why?” she asks, her face scrunched as the word flies out. Shaking her head, she says, “no. I’m just as much of a hunter as you two. I’ve been doing this for years now. There’s absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to-”

“You’re gonna compromise the case,” he cuts her off in a sharp tone. After a pause and a breath, he dials it down, “people know you here, because of your parents, your book. They see you with us, and they’re gonna talk, take pictures.”

“So what? Let them,” she scoffs, slouching back in the seat.

“We need to stay incognito,” he scowls, “at least as much as we possibly can.”

Squinting her eyes, she sharpens her tongue, “I appreciate your concern, Dean,” she says, “but I bring an advantage that I don’t think you’re seeing. I assure you, people will be more inclined to talk to me, than two goons in suits.”

“Y/N,” Sam cuts in, “I’m sorry.. I’m with Dean. I mean, we’re still kind of fugitives...” he says softly, “if word gets to the cops looking for us, and they put out a bolo... well, it’d complicate things.”

“Then you sit out, and I’ll investigate,” she says. Y/N looks between the two of them as they exchange a glance. Rolling her eyes, she says, “fine. I’ll meet you in the middle.” Wrapping her hair up into a tight bun, she throws a cap onto her head and reaches into her bag for a long coat. “Let’s go,” she says, grabbing her badge and stepping out of the car.

Dean rolls his eyes, throwing an annoyed look at Sam, who only shrugs. Y/N is halfway to the door of the station before the two even make it out of the car, skipping up the steps.

“Hi. Agent Bixby,” she smiles, showing her badge to the officer at the desk, “I’m here about-”

The officer’s face turns from confusion into a bright smile. She wags a finger at Y/N, chuckling, “ Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N? You know, if you want information for your next book all you gotta do is ask, sweetheart,” she winks. “It was a hot topic around the office here, the way your character solved that horrific crime... brilliant.”

The brothers approach and stand by her side. Y/N glances up at Dean, pleading for him to step in. He’s always been a much better liar than she. But something comes to mind, “actually,” she giggles, “you’re right, I’m sorry. I’ve teamed up with these two here to help aid in research on my part, investigating on theirs.”

They introduce themselves, showing their badges to the officer and exchanging looks between Y/N and the woman at the desk in front of them.

“I see,” she says, inhaling a sharp breath.

“But,” Y/N leans in, “I’m trying to stay undercover, so if you could help me stay hidden, I’d be very grateful.”

“Sure, sure, sure,” she smiles, “whaddya wanna know?”Y/N smiles, leaning in. “I’m curious about the recent murders, the ones with the missing hearts,” she whispers, “is um, the morgue here as well, or?”

“Yeah, but those bodies aren’t gonna be here. You’re gonna want to go to the funeral home down the street,” she says. Lowering her voice, she adds, “and they have a pretty strict policy about visiting, due to the prestige of those who go there.” She sighs, softening her expression upon seeing the disappointment in Y/N’s. “I could maybe send over a memo about your arrival, though? Ask them to let you in.”

“That’d be awesome,” Y/N nods, “could you maybe help with one more thing?” she asks, a finger up to her lips. “We need the addresses of the victims, crime scene photos, and any other details on the case you might have, she smiles.

The officer is a bit wary, chewing her bottom lip as she contemplates whether to agree or not. She looks between the Winchesters, “you’re federal agents, right? Don’t you have access to that information?”

Dean chuckles, “database was down, and we were headed here anyway...”

“Alright,” the officer says, waving a hand. She stands, shuffling through some papers as she says, “we’ll keep this one off the print, but only if you send me a copy of your new book, Y/N,” she winks. “When it’s done, of course.”

Y/N forces a smile, “of course,” she says through her teeth.

Dean holds the door open for Sam and Y/N, giving eyes to Sam as he walks out first. Dropping a hand onto Y/N’s shoulder, he waits until the door closes to whisper in her ear, “we need to talk.”

He slides his hand across her shoulders and lets his arm drop over her, massaging her arm as he pulls her into him. Sam turns to look back at the. Dean waves a hand at him with a nod, pulling his keys out to toss at him, while he walks Y/N down the steps. He watches Sam get into the Impala as he leads Y/N to sit at a bench underneath a palm tree.

He places his hand onto her knee, turning his body towards her. Her heart sparks as the warmth of his hand draws her attention to it. She tries to push her thoughts away, knowing a lecture is coming her way.

Instead, he softens his expression. “I have a story to tell you, something about my past that I don’t tell anyone,” he says, shaking his head. He purses his lips as he swallows, “my mom was a hunter, too,” he nods, “and I didn’t find out about that until many years after she died. I also found out that, uh, she made a deal with a yellow eyed demon named Azazel.”

Y/N nods, “I’ve heard of him,” she says softly.

“Yeah, that bastard put my family through Hell. He killed my dad, twice,” he says in a melancholic chuckle, “and see, after the first time, my mom made a deal with the demon to bring him back.”

Y/N squints her eyes, pulling away slightly.

Dean pulls his hand away and puts it with his other, resting between his legs, “she didn’t know exactly what she was getting into. All she was told was that she’d have her boyfriend back, and she’d be out of the game. She could have her happy, white picket fence life with our dad,” he sighs, “and you know what? I forgave her. Hell, I don’t even blame her. Now, I know circumstances are different-”

“Yeah, my parents didn’t make a deal,” she says, shaking her head.

“And what if they did? You gonna be mad at them? Is it gonna make you miss them any less? They might not have known, Y/N. You know how demons can be, they lie, omit things. Remember the case we worked in Omaha? The friends who weren’t told about the ten year part of the deal? They didn’t even know the damn thing was a demon until it was almost too late for them,” he looks into his hands before bringing his eyes back to hers, “all I’m saying is, keep an open mind about things. Even if it’s the last thing you wanna hear, closure is closure. And if it turns out to be a deal, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Just know that it doesn’t make your parents any less of who they were. It doesn’t mean they didn’t work for what they earned.” He sighs, grabbing her hand, “and like you said, maybe it wasn’t a deal. Just... hold onto hope for me,” he smiles, kissing her on the forehead.

She shakes her head with a chuckle, “oh, Dean, don’t you know? Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have,” she grins.

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[perfeggso]

I don’t want a lot (Johnny x Reader)

I wrote this as part of @suh-insane’s walking in a winter wonderland collab, so thanks to her for hosting! Happy holidays and I hope y’all enjoy ❄️☺️

Genre: domestic fluff

Characters: Johnny, fem! reader, Ten

Warnings: nothing really just mentions of bad things that have happened this year lol. It’s a very...2020 fic. Also I guess some language. Also, smoking pot.

Rating: teen and up

Length: 3.5k

My movie quote is “They can’t evict you on Christmas! Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

December 18th 2020, 4:37 p.m.

“Knock, knock!” You pound your fist against the wooden door in front of you, then pull your coat tighter around you. You’d moved to Chicago five years ago for college, and you’re still not sure if you’ll ever adjust to the snowy winter months. It was at said college that you met,

“Johnny Suh!” You bang a fist on the door three more times. “I know you’re in there. Take your headphones off, you dumbass.”

You’re about to pull your phone out of your pocket and go to the trouble of removing a glove to text your boyfriend when you hear the door unlock from the inside, a metallic tumbling sound.

When the door opens all the way, Johnny is standing just past the threshold of his apartment, his catlike lips curled up at the edges. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a blue flannel, and his freshly dyed blond hair falls to where his headphones rest around the base of his neck. You can hear Nirvana coming from them because you are dating a stereotype.

Johnny leans his large frame against the side of the door where he had been holding it and smirks, but there’s nothing but softness behind the expression.

“Long time no see, sicko,” he teases.

You roll your eyes as he moves to let you pass into the entryway of his and Ten’s shoebox dwelling.

“You look even more like a deadbeat than you did a month ago,” you say, not moving because your clothing is starting to drip melting snow onto the floor and you don’t even know where to begin with taking it off. “This is proof you need me around taking care of you.”

Johnny pushes off the door and closes it, pausing his music. He crowds close and starts unwrapping your scarf so you don’t have to think about it anymore, shakes some of the slush off it so it pools at your feet, and hangs it on the coat rack. He does the same with your puffer jacket.

“Aw,” he pouts, “you don’t like the new color?” He tries to remove your beanie too, but it was part of your Outfit, so you yank it back down onto your head and give Johnny puppy dog eyes, choosing to ignore the way your heart rate picks up a little from the proximity. Hey, isolation was rough, okay? Johnny tucks your hair behind your ears instead.

“No, baby,” you say, starting to toe off your snow boots. “I love it. It’s very Disney prince, but simultaneously very… Kurt Cobain.” Johnny smiles and lets you finish stripping your winter gear, walking his way back towards his sofa until he’s sitting, legs wide. Snow falls in flurries past the window behind him. “It’s just that, I dunno, you look like you’ve been spending more time on Reddit or something.” Johnny sulks jokingly at your ribbing as you hang up your purse and try not to fixate on how cold the indoor air still is. “I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while,” you continue. “Oh wait! I forgot you have Ten around for that.”

Now it’s Johnny who’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t seem too offended because he beckons you over to sit with him. You follow his gesture, skipping towards him until you can curl into his side on the couch. He removes his headphones and lays his head against the crown of yours, taking your hand softly.

“It’s not my fault my girlfriend abandoned me for a month,” he complains, rubbing his thumb over yours.

This makes you chuckle. Oh, how you’ve missed him. “If that’s what you call ‘considerately protecting you from the Novel Coronavirus’,” you joke, “then I guess, but I refuse to apologize for doing my civic duty.”

Your case hadn’t been bad, but it was a logistical nightmare. You’d spent two weeks in total isolation, nursing a cough, guzzling hard alcohol straight to see if you could taste it, sending your best friend out to shop for you, and thanking your lucky stars for having a job that would let you work from home. You’d spent the next two waiting to test negative for the virus and a positive for antibodies. Johnny was initially distraught when you told him, sending you cloying messages and calling everyday to see if your symptoms were getting better or worse. Once you’d convinced him you weren’t dying though, he went back to his usual obnoxious self, joking about planning your funeral and accusing you of faking it to avoid him.

Johnny pulls you tighter into his side. “Whatever,” he concedes. “Is it safe to kiss you yet?”

You look up at him and shrug. “Nothing’s 100% but…”

That’s all the reassurance he needs to pull you into his lap and connect your lips. It's soft and languid, and you hold each other through it. His arms are so solid around your waist it simultaneously makes your heart flutter and makes you feel like you could relax and take a nap right here and now. When you pull away, Johnny runs his hands along your figure, as if to reassure himself you’re really there. The smile he gives you glows, but only for a moment. You curl yourself into the crook of his neck and place the back of your hand on his cheek, tender. His skin there scratches yours just the tiniest bit.

“I missed you,” he says, chuckling.

“Mm-hm, I missed you too,” you reply. “How are you, anyway? You said you had something to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. He maneuvers you off his lap to sit by his side, and from this angle you can truly tell that he’s going sheepish. Suddenly it feels like there’s an alien hand in your stomach. What could this possibly be about? Johnny’s nervous silence gets your brain spinning – a zoetrope of stupidity. Am I being broken up with? No – obviously not. Does he have a family member dying of COVID? I fucking hope not; that’d be complicated on multiple levels. Maybe it’s good? Maybe he finally got a job offer but he has to move away or something.

Johnny starts talking before your mind can come up with any other ridiculous hypotheses.

“We’re getting evicted.”

You furrow your brow. Had you misheard him? You shake your head, incredulous. Johnny and Ten had always maintained a good relationship with their landlord. It didn’t make sense for everything to turn on a dime, even if they were struggling financially.

“You’re kidding,” is all you manage to say.

Johnny just purses his lips and raises his eyebrows as if to say, “it is what it is.”

What he really says is that he wishes he was kidding, but he’s not.

“Oh my god,” you respond, crossing your arms in irritation at, well, at everything lately. “Fuck! When is this happening?”

Johnny sighs. “Technically in a week.”

You feel the cogs of your post-COVID brain start to crank against each other. A week from today would be…hold on,

“Wait,” you say, as the situation starts to appear more and more ridiculous. “Like exactly a week from today? Like on Christmas? You’re being evicted on literal Christmas?” You’re trying really hard not to raise your voice, even if it’s clear that if you did, it would be out of indignation on Johnny’s behalf. You’re obviously not upset with him.

Johnny’s eyes roll around in their sockets as if this is the first time he’s contemplated the exact timing.

“Well, yeah, I guess a week from today is Christmas…”

The absurdity of this all is getting to you, and you can’t help it, you start to laugh. It’s that kind of nihilistic, fuck-all laughter that’s been one of the few things getting you through this year.

“They can’t evict you on Christmas!” you quote. “Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

Johnny looks at you blankly for a second, so you contort your face into that open expression universally recognized as the “get it?” face.

“From Go?” You hint. “C’mon, Johnny boy.”

And before his nickname can fully escape your mouth, your boyfriend is cutting you off with a long sound of recognition and doubling over his lap in giggles.

“Good one,” he says into his right knee, and you giggle along with him. “Wholly inappropriate, but clever nonetheless.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, enjoying the levity, but unable to uproot the feeling of dread in your gut at Johnny’s conundrum.

Go is one of you and Johnny’s favorite movies to watch around Christmastime, mostly because it’s only tangentially related to Christmas, it’s kitschy and ridiculous, and has a plot that is 90% crime. You’re surprised he didn’t catch the reference more quickly, but to his credit, he has more pressing worries taking up mental space.

“Where is Ten, anyway?” you ask, looking around performatively at the messy and claustrophobic room. A silver plastic Christmas tree twinkles on a table in the corner. “Have you two talked about a plan yet?”

“He’s grocery shopping,” Johnny explains. “He’ll be home soon. And yeah, we have an idea.”

“You do? Because you could always move in with me.”

Johnny scrunches his face up. “I would love to live with you.” Your heart rattles a little in excitement, even though you know there will be a ‘but.’ Johnny goes on, “but you know both of us wouldn’t fit in your apartment. Where would Ten sleep? Or put his stuff? We’d all be on top of each other.”

You nod, defeated because you know he’s right.

“Hey,” Johnny says, “but we can always have the ‘moving in’ conversation again, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing his hand. “Sounds good.”

It suddenly feels very dark in the apartment (it’s still chilly enough you think you might be able to see your breath, but you aren’t about to complain because you know there’s a very good reason for that), so Johnny pushes himself up off the couch to turn on a couple of lamps.

“So,” he says, facing you from across the room, “we’re gonna be evicted on Christmas, no matter what the cinematographic masterpiece that is Go tells us is right or wrong. Christmas is just as much of a capitalist construction as our rent, after all.”

You’re about to pipe up again about how fucked that is and how surely they can come to some sort of agreement with the landlord, but Johnny anticipates this and keeps talking.

“We tried to argue, babe, but as I know you know, we don’t exactly have much of a leg to stand on.”

Johnny is right. Again. How many months behind were they on rent at this point? They’d gotten a few months delayed back in spring, but they still owed everything that built up from that before the end of the year, and they’d blown through their stimulus check a long time ago. Johnny has tried to find work, but the theater business hasn’t exactly been booming. Ten, for his part, is able to make a bit of money doing freelance illustration and teaching dance classes over Zoom from his room, but his studio’s engagement has dropped since March and he still unfortunately gets paid per student. You can’t help wanting to punch a wall in frustration at how unfair this all is, but it’s not like any of it comes as a shock. You’re not naïve. You and Johnny met at a leftist theory club for Christ’s sake.

“We’re helping organize a rent strike,” Johnny says, calming you down. Finally, a glimmer of hope. “We’re not the only ones in the building going through it right now, and we know a lot of the tenants who aren’t being evicted well enough we can convince them to join.”

Right then, the front door flies open and thwacks a startled Johnny in the back.

“I’m home!” Ten calls from behind a sack of groceries. You can’t even see his face yet. “I’m terribly sorry,” he directs at Johnny, then heaves the bag of food onto the kitchen counter which is also sort of in the middle of the living room.

“Ooh,” he coos when he sees you, still sat on the couch. “The missus is back!” He strips himself of his winter coat, ignoring your scoffing and revealing an oversized red and white striped sweater. He shimmies against the cool air and lets out a sort of squeal. “I was not built for this actual winter shit.”

“Hi, Ten,” you say once he finishes his theatrics. “Missed you.”

Ten shoots a sappy pout your way. “I miss you too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better! You have no idea how morose Johnny got without you constantly around. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod and try to warm up Ten’s tiny frame with yours while Johnny mutters something about Ten not knowing what “morose” means. When you break away, Johnny is rifling through the week’s haul to put things away.

“I see you didn’t go off-brand for the ramen,” Johnny remarks, stacking several Shin bowls in the cupboard. He turns to Ten with a raised brow. “Big spender.”

“They didn’t have anything else but if you would answer your damn phone I could have called and asked you about it.”

“I answer my phone,” Johnny grumbles, stowing some orange juice away in the fridge.

“Besides,” Ten continues, ignoring his roommate, “since I’m the only one making any money in this household I figured I’d give myself some discretion for spending it.”

Johnny grimaces, and you figure this is where you should probably step in.

“We were just talking about the rent strike, Ten. Johnny was filling me in.”

Ten turns his attention back to you, letting Johnny house the food items in peace.

“We’ll see how it goes,” says Ten, looking out the window just past your shoulder, “but I’m letting myself hope a little bit. As far as I’m concerned, they’ll be kicking my corpse out of here before they put me on the streets.”

Johnny scoffs. “Always so dramatic.”

“Says the former theater major.”

“Touché.”

You’d missed the ‘old married couple’ dynamic your boyfriend has with his roommate.

“But really, just, please try not to get the cops involved,” you plead. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” says Johnny as he closes the last cabinet and crinkles the brown paper bag up for storage.

Ten shrugs. “No promises.”

You sigh.

Once everything is good and settled a few moments later, Ten decides the apartment needs a more festive atmosphere, so that’s how you end up getting dragged down the short hallway to Johnny’s room while Ten belts Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” from the living room and accuses Johnny of being a scrooge. Even still, Johnny sways playfully from side to side as he walks backwards, shimmying his shoulders and mouthing the words with a smile between protestations that this is “not how I envisioned finally spending time again with my girlfriend!” The way he buries his hands into the sleeves of his flannel to make sweater paws makes your heart so full you want to curl up and die. But, moving on.

Once in his bedroom, Johnny flicks on a warm-hued lamp and watches fondly as you collapse on the bed.

“I really did miss you guys,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour.

Johnny’s lips press into a little smile. “Yeah. We missed you. A lot. Especially me – you have no idea.”

You laugh sardonically. “Based on your text messages, I think I actually do have an idea.”

Johnny flops down on top of you, crushing you a bit.

“Oh really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His golden hair is falling in your face and it tickles, but Johnny halts any laughter with a kiss, then dots tiny kisses all over your cheeks and nose. They tickle too.

“You wanna smoke?”

“Sure.”

Johnny has a pre-rolled joint on his bedside table, and you watch him light it, feeling like you’re in a snow globe with the fall of snowflakes outside. The sky is that weird greyish off-yellow that only comes with a snowy night.

After a couple of hits, Johnny lies back down next to you and hands you the joint. The smoke brings you that usual tight feeling, like your lungs are shrinking but at the same time swimming in radiant heat. You don’t know if you should technically be doing this right after COVID, but you’re young and your body is resilient; you figure you’ll be fine. Besides, you can already feel the pleasant lightness setting in around your mind. It’s a placebo at this point, no doubt, but the relaxed anticipation is nice. You take note of the fact that Johnny had started playing music while you were thinking about lungs. The Strokes’ “Under Control” is doing battle with Ten’s Christmas tunes still seeping in through the cracks in the door.

You hand Johnny his joint back and roll onto your side, supporting your head with one hand and curling the other into Johnny’s abundant hair.

“I just want to say one more time,” you begin, “if worse comes to worst, you can always move in with me.”

Johnny takes another hit and holds it for a second, leaving you in anticipation.

“I know,” he says simply. “But I really think this’ll work. I have to, right? Besides, if Ten had to hear us fucking multiple times a week we would all start to regret living together. That, I can promise.”

You laugh, burying your increasingly silly-feeling head into Johnny’s chest. “Okay, fair.”

There’s stillness for a few beats where you just count your and Johnny’s breaths, trying to synch them up. This doesn’t work though, since Johnny’s lungs are bigger. Then,

“There’s no way your parents would lend you some money?” Your voice comes out quiet. “Or let you stay with them for a while?”

Johnny looks down at you, letting out a heavy sigh. “No, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea for…so many reasons. Besides, they don’t exactly have an extra few months worth of Chicago rent lying around either.”

You nod against Johnny’s chest. “I figured,” you say. “Just checking.”

Johnny brushes his fingers through your hair and kisses your part. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, offering a slightly sly smile.

You kiss the white fabric of his undershirt. It’s been so long since the two of you just laid together, and it feels better than you could have hoped, Johnny’s body heat helping to alleviate some of the cold of an apartment gradually losing its utilities. You wish you could get closer than chest to chest. You kind of wish you could burrow into him, but not in a weird way, you know?

“I believe in you guys,” you say. “However I can help, I will.”

“Thanks.”

Apparently, Johnny is done with talking, because he pulls you in for a warm kiss. Then, he gets the brilliant idea to shotgun the pot smoke. This activity quickly devolves into a very giggly makeout session, only to be interrupted by Ten’s voice outside the door.

“I’m opening the door in five seconds, you guys,” he says, “and if Johnny’s dick is out when I get in there, I’m evicting both of you myself!”

You and Johnny fall together laughing as Ten cautiously cracks the door. He swats at the air in disapproval.

“Stinks…” he remarks. “Oh, thank god you’re decent. Anyway, John, if the lady is staying for the evening, you both need to come help cook dinner, because I am not your housemaid, even if I do look good in a maid costume. Chop-chop.”

It takes way too long to get up out of bed because Ten, as usual, has made both you and Johnny absolutely lose it. Eventually, you manage to rise, but Johnny pulls you quickly back against his lap.

“Hey!”

“Just a minute.” He presses one last kiss under your left ear. “I love you.”

You can feel your skin tingle, although it might just be the weed. Either way, you’ll never tire of hearing that. “I love you too, Johnny.”

“I think Mariah was right,” Johnny whispers, voice displaying mock awe as if he were coming to a mind blowing realization. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

You give him a sympathy chuckle because that was kind of cute, in a corny way, and Johnny just swats your ass a little in response to get you back up to standing.

“Well, you and some basic shelter would be ideal,” Johnny deadpans. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask but I guess we’ll see.” You smile sympathetically. This strike is no doubt going to make for a stressful week, but you’re glad it’s starting like this.

“Hey, love birds!” Ten hollers from the kitchen.

“C’mon,” you say with a laugh. “Let’s not leave him waiting any longer.”

[haechanniesunflowers]

Meeting the in-laws in Australia

Author's note(s): man I suck at writing, I have a really great story line in my head and I'm trying my best to write it like a decent quadrilingual (yes I speak 4 languages, no I'm not lying) human being but like I said I suck at it. I'm literally crying and reading such perfect fics written by people here, y'all are doing great. Also I put in some songs from my playlist pls enjoy.

Anyways, this is part 1 in honor of me reaching 500 followers (really appreciate you guys, even if we don't interact at all). Wait for part 2 and others okay bye.

Part 1

"have you packed your toothbrush?" you ask as you slumped on your bed, tired. You stare at the ceiling and tried to put your thoughts in place. Completely ignoring your husband's answer to your question.

"y/n? Hello?" Chris says, bringing you out of your trance.

"huh? Sorry I wasn't listening" you say.

"I said I packed my toothbrush but I can't find my razors and shaving cream" he said.

"where did you put it?"

"if I remembered, I wouldn't be asking you sweetheart" he smiled.

"it's your stuff, how would I know where it's supposed to be" you reply.

"spicy" he comments.

"and you can't handle spicy so stop this" you say, getting up from the bed and walking towards the closest.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him, staring lovingly into your eyes. You get shy and look away but he makes you face him again. You can see the love and desire in his eyes. Suddenly you feel conscious, he's staring at my imperfections. You weren't always confident about your looks. You didn't like your big eyes that weren't even the same size. You wished that your left eye was as big as the right one, or the right one could've been a bit smaller like the left one. And your nose? oh how you wished yours looked as good as Minho's. And your small pouty lips, why couldn't they be perfect like those kpop idol girls'. A million thoughts were running through your head and you try to free yourself from his grasp.

"look at me" he says, and you do. You look at the most important person in your life. He still gives your butterflies. His little deeds still make your heart flutter.

"what are you thinking about Chris?" your voive is barely above a whisper.

"how did I get so lucky" he swoons making you shy and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around you. In reality, even after dating him for 5 years and getting married recently, you never truly understood what he saw in you. He complimented your looks, your personality, your fashion sense, everything. But you didn't see what he saw. You thought of yourself as an average looking woman who got lucky by bumping into Chris at a party and stubbing his toe and apologizing profusely. And now here you were, almost 6 years later, in your shared apartment, Mrs. Bang.

"I love you so much Chris"

"I love you so much too sweetheart" he says and kisses the top of your head.

You caress his face and say "I'd prefer you not shave anymore, I like facial hair on you"

He grins in response "you know I can't, it won't match my hair and on top of that, I can't take care of it, it's a hassle"

In this moment, you decide to tell him about your worries. He's all ears right now and you can't help but share.

"Chris I'm nervous" you start, "I know I've met your family before but that was when we were dating. I was meeting them as your family back then. This time I'm meeting my in-laws. I don't know where it's coming from but there's this pressure and just thinking about it is making me nervous. What if they don't really like me, I mean we're staying at your parents' place for the first time together. I don't know, I fear they won't like me."

He takes you to the lounge and sits you down on the couch, him next to you.

"hey I completely understand and it's okay to feel this way. Your concern is valid. But I want you to know that my family adores you. Sure they were a bit skeptical when I told them you're from a different country, speak a whole different language and your culture is different, but after they met you, they had nothing but nice things to say about you, I always tell you that. Don't worry, they like you and just be yourself. They'll get to know you more and you will fit right in. Besides, 4 weeks is a lot of time for you to get along with them. Oh and Hannah is the most excited to have you over, she says she got a good vibe the last time and felt a 'sisterly connection' I don't know"

You smile but the worry doesn't fade away.

"okay we need to pack the final things, our flight is in 3 hours Chris, get up"

"I'm going to the convenience store to get my shaving stuff, you need anything?" he says.

"no, I'll get sick if I eat anything before the flight, get me some gum please" you shudder, you had motion sickness so you preferred to skip meals before travelling.

"okay I'll be back in a flash" he says.

You go back to your bedroom to do a final check of the suitcases. You hum songs to yourself to ease the tension, why am I nervous already? Chris is right, I should just be myself and try to fit in. You reassure yourself.

You pull your phone out and start scrolling through tumblr. but what if I don't fit in? what if me being myself isn't good enough and I'm a burden for them for 4 weeks? What if I let Hannah down and don't be the sister she wants me to be? Wait, I need to clear my head. This is just going to get worse if I keep thinking about it.

You play Sun&Moon by NCT 127 to calm yourself down while you wait for Chris to return and pack his final bag. He returns after 20 minutes and you two get ready to leave for the airport. He puts the luggages and bags in the lounge and heads to take a shower before getting dressed. You check your essentials in your purse and make sure the electronics are unplugged and only the main lights of the apartment are on, like your bedroom and the lounge.

You decide to wait on the couch for Chris to finish showering so you can take one yourself. Trying your best to push the tensions aside, you close your eyes and sing a song to yourself, a habit you developed during your time in university.

So I won't hesitate~No more, no more~It cannot wait~I'm yours~There's no need to complicate~Our time is short~This is our fate~I'm yours

You're so focused on your lowkey singing that you don't realize Chris coming out of the bathroom, getting dressed and standing next to the couch, just enjoying you singing.

"hey, I'm out, your can shower now" he says in a low voice, smiling towards you.

You get up and go to the bathroom, ridding yourself of your clothes and standing under the warm water. You wanted to stay like this for some time but time was short so you get going, not really rushing yourself. You come out in a towel to get dressed, singing Fly Me To The Moon to yourself. You walk to your husband, who's patiently waiting for you.

"let's get going" you say.

He takes the luggages to the car waiting outside while you make final checkings. windows locked? check. lights off? check. stove off? check. bed made? check. passports and visas? check. door locked? check.

You both get in the car and head towards the airport. After getting the necessary procedure done everyone starts boarding. You're sat next to your husband and listen to the hostess' announcement.

"Thank you and enjoy the flight"

With that, the plane takes off. You're still nervous about meeting your in-laws but being in a plane scares you more so you're kinda preoccupied.

You look over to Chris to see him sound asleep with headphones on. great, just great.

You decide it would be best to just forget that you are thousands of feet about the ground and listen to some music. (playing LAUV's i met you when I was 18 album). You pray for things to be in favour of you and close your eyes, it's gonna be a long flight so might as well catch up on some sleep.

to be continued...

[having-a-hyperfixate]

The Final Day’‘

This is absolutely going to be long and rambley af so I’mma just put a cut here. This is just one massive post for the entire rest of the game.

Rindo is back in the RG somehow. Which makes less than no sense. What was that crazy beam. Shibuya is GONE there isn’t an RG to send him back to, even if someone did want to send him back?

That beam reminded me of the Jesus beams not gonna lie.

But… Fret. Presumably Nagi and Beat too. They’re. Gone. Poor Rindo… That’s the worst kind of gaslighting. Reality itself is gaslighting this poor kid. ‘Your best friend in the world is gone, so gone that no one remembers him. You don’t even get to mourn properly because there is no one TO mourn.’  I am also not okay.

I assume this random talking to us at Hachiko is the dude I saw a brief glimpse of in a screenshot from the final trailer. Hazuki Mikagi, okay. Everything about this is supremely weird. 

Leading this weirdo around and he asked how we feel about emotions? Um, what?

Was he responsible for that beam of light?

This whole thing is extremely unsettling, I don’t think I like it. The music is all… serene, this guy keeps asking existential questions, who even comes up to some kid clearly having a bad day and demands a tour of the city.

He knows Rindo’s name even though we never told him. Not sure if that was a slip or an intentional nudge that Something is going on but there we go.

‘I should take this chance to apologize for Kubo. He’s a real piece of work.’ WHAT. YOU SEND HIM TO SHINJUKU?!?! IS THIS KID GOD!? WHAT!??!

‘Exorcised’. Like a demon. Which is a psychic rank you can get in the first game, and probably this game, ergo, a thing that exists in this universe.

Okay. So this Hazuki guy is Something Else. I dunno if he’s an Angel or higher or WHAT. He’s something. And he “exorcised” what Fuckwad had Fallen to when he decided not to stop at Shinjuku and continue on to Shibuya. But he only did this after Rindo faught so hard to stop it. And then he gave Rindo what he thought Rindo wanted. And now he’s here trying to understand why Rindo is miserable. Which to us, as humans, is obvious: the people he loved, the connections and family he had made through the game are all gone and worse, no one remembers they ever existed.

And now he’s being offered the chance to try again. This feels like a double edged sword. And I don’t care.

Okay I actually kind of appreciate the thing Hazuki is pulling here. He knows what it is that Rindo wants, I’m pretty sure he’s listening to his thoughts, actually, and in order to make Rindo own up to it he’s arguing the ‘no’ position. Giving Rindo someone to argue against so he can convince himself.

WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAPPEN AT UDAGAWA.

Bruh some of these clips were in the announcement trailer.

(I can’t wait to read the secret reports. That’s gonna be a wild ride.)

Oooooh that’s what ‘exorcised’ means. That is hardcore. He definitely deserved it but that is uh. Slightly inconvenient.

Can we actually contact Rhyme this time PLEASE. Oooh Rindo worked out Kaie is waiting for Rhyme. :O I’M FINALLY GONNA GET MY MASSIVE COUNTER OFFENSIVE FUCK YES. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I’M PUMPED LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!

Who’s gonna protect them. Beat. Really. Just give them the damn pins at this point. They both know their ways around a fight and Kaie might need the backup. If we lose, we’re all toast regardless, and if we win everyone gets put back where they belong.

AAAAAAAAAAAH SHE’S HERE!!! RHYME!!!! Aw… She can’t see Neku and Shoka cuz they’re actually dead. That’s really depressing. Makes sense but like. Oof. Especially for Neku.

I love that Rhyme still has a saying for everything.

This timeline is going to be a mess by the time I get everything positioned correctly lmao

Beat’s ‘How do you know about my sister?! Right, future.’ is never going to NOT be funny. It’s very refreshing to have a time travel plot where people just listen when he tells them shit needs to happen.

Is it acutaly Shiki time ohh my god. I might cry. Please tell me she has a face now. If her face is still illegal I will actually scream.

I’m offended. We didn’t get to go see Shiki. The betrayal. OH but now we might be? Stop playing with me, game. GIVE. ME. SHIKI.

Rindo was freaking out that we weren’t gonna be able to get rid of all the Noise around the café and I definitely threw my hands up and yelled when I saw the word ‘zeptogram’. And I read it before he said it, cuz I read v. fast. Nice to see you again, idiot. Please don’t go berserk again.

I am. Very impressed that Minamimoto managed to work out where the Dissonance Noise are coming from, down to the exact energy source that creates them. He nailed it. Well done sir.

I think… he’s proposing we awaken the city and use the energy generated by the thoughts and emotions of the living people to neutralize some of the Dissonance Noise that are waiting in the pin. Erode some of its power.

“How about this: I’ll talk, you type.” Lmao.

I got denied Shiki again. Part of me is annoyed. The other part of me is like ‘are they saving her entrance for when she can see Neku again properly because I can live with that’.

OH the Hishima cutscene is voiced now OKAY. Guess that means this is the one. Rhyme is voiced too. This is gonna be it.

And she speaks Minamioto. Coo.

Huh. Neku’s power is to sync with people. Which he learned to do in the first game. From Mr H, with the harmonizer pin. (Twister is playing and I have Emotions help) And now he’s gonna do it on an absolutely MASSIVE scale. This is insane. I am 1,000% here for it. Sync, Dive, Remind. And if I had to guess, we’re doing this atop 104.

Alright Shiba. ‘Mere. Tsugumi’s eyes aren’t all freaky anymore yay. Oh snap. He’s gonna unleash the Plague Noise against the Dissonance ones. Nice. Turnabout is fair play. I’m kinda sad Fuckwad isn’t here to witness that.

Alright. Change. Our. Fate.

SHIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I gave myself a headache ow.

“07734.” “Ew. Hey! Don’t just spout off numbers and walk away, you jerk!” That was amazing.

FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. NO. NO WAY. I DIDN’T THINK THERE WAS ANY WAY. OH. MY. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. This is the first time Neku’s seen him since Joshua failed to stop Coco from killing him. I’m. A puddle. Help. Neku looked so happy. My cat is slightly concerned haha.

Neku still holds his hands like he’s got the headphones. The same pose as in the first game when you scan. This gives me all the feels.

“They’re just mindless thoughts” Okay so I’m mentally exhausted at this point and I processed that as ‘thots’ and it was hilarious. BEGONE THOTS.

Okay this thing right here? This is a final boss. And it is cool as fuck. Too bad it’s trying to END ME. So cool. SO. COOL. Here comes phase 2 lol. I died and had to redo it. FML.

That. Was awesome. A worthy successor to the epic final strike of the first game. 999% eh?

I continue to not like Shinjuku rules. Once you’re a Reaper, leaving means you get erased once the game ends? Disrespectfully, fuck that. Oh don’t you dare, Shoka. Don’t. You. Dare.

Oh, Joshua is here. PLEASE. Lmao Shoka’s reaction. I’m sure he appreciates that, the drama queen.

*facepalms* Joshua strikes again. I’ve missed you, you little shit. You are terrible, but I missed you. Rindo, I’m pretty sure she’s fine. I think captain helpful over here reincarnated her for you. Since you saved him and his city. I guess I’ll see though.

Uzuki and Kariya continue to be adorable. I love them. And yeah, good luck calling in that debt from Minamimoto, Coco. Gooooood luck.

I’m having a lot of Joshua centered emotions right now there is too much Joshua all at once help. “I should have known I could trust you.” You are killing me dude. You really, really should have. I’m going to turn that line over in my head for way too long, I just know it, but let’s try to get through this before my brain turns off completely. “Let’s not keep her waiting.” OKAY THANKS I’M GONNA CRY AGAIN.

What Hazuki was saying about ‘purifying’ as opposed to ‘destroying’ Shinjuku makes me think that restarting it in some form was always part of the plan, so hopefully they’ll have luck with that. It’s still profoundly fucked up that any of that happened, and even more so that it was sanctioned. I’m. Going to be hung up on that for a while once it sinks in.

This poor idiot hitting on Rhyme is about to get got oh no XD

Shiki is breaking my heart. Aaaaaaaah!!! Reunioooooon.

Ooof it’s been a month since Rindo saw Shoka. Big oof. Joshuaaaaaa.

And then they almost got hit by a car lmao. OMG HE MISSED HER FRIEND REQUESTS AHAHAHAHAH YOU GOOBER. Neku really should have warned them that Joshua is Like That lol. Even when he’s being helpful it’s in the must backhanded way possible.

I would very much like to know why on earth Shinjuku needed to be obliterated though. Like. Does that… Happen often? Maybe the secret reports say.

Speaking of, time to get those, along with the rest of the trophies.

!!!! The title screen updated, NICE. Can’t let anyone who hasn’t beaten it see that but NICE.

There’s another Another Day. Oh boy. I am not ready for that madness yet.

Random thought as I was moving this from word, where I typed it: I’m really, really fucking glad they didn’t decide to deal with Mr H the way they dealt with sleezy mcfuckwad. That would have been… I don’t have a word.

[sylvain-writes]

Guarded Hearts and Safe Houses (Leonardo x Reader) Chapter 5/9

Rated: T

Gender Neutral Reader, canon typical violence/injury, light angst, strangers to lovers, supportive family

for @melodiousmelodrama

As expected, your parents welcome the turtles into their apartment, offering them a safe space for as long as necessary. Their only concern is for the wellbeing of their new friends.

“Just for the day,” Leo tells your family, and his brothers look up, none protesting but clearly confused. “I have a place,” Leo explains. “It’s not set up or anything. We have a lot of work to do. Donnie, you’ll need help bringing stuff your stuff up from the sewers and we’ll have to abandon the van for a while-”

“Whaddaya mean, ya have a place?” Raphael sits forward, leaning onto his knees where he sits at Gram’s feet helping her roll cakes of yarn.

“An abandoned subway station. It’s not perfect, but it’s ours.”

Donatello rubs his chin. “Subway?”

“Are there trains?” Mikey’s open expression is full of wonder and hope.

“Yeah. There’s a car for each of us. No more bunk sharing or falling all over each other, fighting for space. But, the place needs some work.”

"Oh." Mikey's enthusiasm wavers as he spares half a glance toward Raphael, but he smiles up at Leo. "That's cool, bro!"

"Yeah, Leo." Donatello adds from the kitchen. "Sounds  great."

Leo tries not to take their drop in enthusiasm personally. But after all the work he’s putting in - searching for a place, fixing it up - even this slight rejection hurts. "Look, I wish we could get an apartment and play house with all this fancy stuff too, alright? But don't get used to it. This isn't our life. It's never going to be. The subway's gonna be good for us. You'll see."

" 'Course it is, man. You always know what's best." Raphael sounds sincere, but Leo turns in a huff as if his brothers had turned up their snouts at his announcement.

"I'll show you to a room where you can get some rest," you say gently. The whirlwind of the past 36 hours must have him exhausted. You could use some sleep as well.

Leo thanks you for access to the shower and for the bed, your bed, your room. And he turns himself in.

You call out of work and get a few hours of sleep before restlessness kicks in. You're not used to sleeping during the day. When you wake up, the guys are in various states of unrest as well.

Leo still hasn't come out.

Donnie announces, "He's asleep," and his brothers don't question it. But you raise an eyebrow at his quick assessment. "I compared his breathing against known patterns. It helps to know the difference between Leo asleep, Leo meditating, and Leo pretending to do either."

"Didn't take him for one to play pretend."

“He keeps his secrets," Raphael says, his tone a bit bitter. There's a history there, you think. "But he's always got his reasons. Thinks he knows what's best for us." Raphael shrugs, as if coming to a conclusion he's come to before. "He usually does."

No one is surprised when Leo sleeps through the day. And no one blames him. But when the pizza delivery fills the apartment with the smell of hot tomato sauce and melted cheese, they all expect him to show at the table. He doesn't, and even Mikey can't make his "More for me, then" sound free of his worry.

"Is he gonna be alright? If we leave him?" You want to go to him. You barely know Leo, but he's let you see him vulnerable before. You think maybe his vulnerability is one of the things his brothers know he hides. Maybe he doesn't realize they see. Anyway, you don't want to force him.

"Sensei usually knows what to do."

"Splinter-” you nod along “-have you heard from him? Is he coming?"

Donatello shakes his head, but doesn't seem concerned. "His last transmission noted his safety. He'll contact us again soon."

You pick olives off your pizza and line them up as you think aloud. "Until then, you'll help Leo with the station?"

Raphael piles three slices onto his plate, before lifting a fourth from the box straight to his mouth. "We go where Leo goes. He found us a spider-infested death trap to live in… we'll go."

An olive slips off the rim of your plate. "How did you know it was spider-infested?"

"Ya came in before covered in cobwebs and shit. But whatever. Sewer wasn't no palace either." There’s no embarrassment or judgment in Raph’s tone. Leo should be here, hearing his brothers support his decision.

"He seems really excited about it. I mean… hopeful, y'know?"

"Yeah." Donatello passes you his slices of mushrooms and you pass them on to Mikey who gobbles them up with gusto. "We never said we didn't like the idea. It's just not home, that's all."

You can sympathize. "We moved around a lot when I was younger. Always trying to find a better placement for mom. A safer community for me to grow up in. It wasnt the house that made it home. It was having my family around."

"Yeah, yeah,” Raph grumbles. “Real Hallmark life changing stuff. But he's not worried about keeping us together, remember? We each get a car to ourselves. He's splittin us up."

Mikey goes quiet, stops eating, drops his hands into his lap.

You don’t know what to do, what to say, to make this better. You think, if they would just talk to Leo about this, it could all be straightened out. But the rest of the meal is silent. It seems the brothers don’t even feel up to talking to each other.

When Leo emerges from the room, he announces it's time to go. "We have to patrol. They tried to hit us where it hurts. But we're resilient. And we’re not going to let the Krang take our city.”

You narrow your eyes at Leo and wonder if he’s ignoring the strain on his brothers - or if he just can’t see it. You wonder if he can read the loss in their eyes, if he can understand that ordering them to brush themselves off and push through another night of patrol might not be in their best interest right now.

Leo stands taller. “I said, we’re moving out. Let’s go.”

Donatello is the first to stand from the table. He grabs his pack from behind the couch and waits by the window while Leo opens it and climbs into the night. Raphael knocks Mikey’s shoulder and jerks his head toward their brothers as if to say, “We better head out too.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” You look at their plates of half eaten food and wonder why Leo hadn’t at least let them finish.

“Forget about it,” Raph says with half a frown. “We knew it wouldn’t last.”

“Yeah, right,” Mikey agrees, heading for the fire escape. “We don’t belong in some fancy place like this. But I really like how the carpets match the drapes.”

The observation awards him a smack on the arm.

“What? What’d I say?”

“Kids,” Raphael chuckles, embarrassed for everyone in the room. “He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. Excuse us.” He ushers Mikey out and refuses to explain innuendo to his little brother. “Thanks for all the, uh… thanks.”

Mikey looks back at your family before he leaves. “I really do like the-” his compliment becomes a shout of surprise as Raphael tears him away from the window and to the roof.

Over the next few nights, you get rather used to seeing turtles on the roof. The Krang’s forces are growing in number, but as they continue to remain in hiding, everything feels like speculation. And so, the turtles rotate watch on your building. It makes stargazing more interesting. Especially on nights when Donatello is around. Raphael is kind of a mess. Always on high alert and rarely interested in standing still long enough to enjoy something as simple and amazing as the moon and stars. But Donatello is full of knowledge about the cosmos.

Some nights you and Donnie discuss the possibility of life on other planets. It seems like Donnie enjoys the distraction, until you realize he’s talking about the likelihood of alien attacks.

Mikey has a special interest in astrology, which surprises and delights you to no end. He loves telling you his brothers’ horoscopes and making connections within their lives to prove how absolutely on point astrology is.

Finally, you ask, “How do you know when your birthdays are? I mean, weren’t you all exposed to the mutagen at the same time?”

Mikey explains, “It’s all in the stars. I didn’t choose our birthdays. Our birthdays chose us.” And points to the astrological chart in his lap as if it held the answers to the universe, which, if he were to argue the point, it did.

You just nodded, letting him have his way.

Leo doesn’t patrol your roof. Not once. Not, like, ever. And you’ve looked for him. You’ve asked about him. But the most you’ve ever gotten is a weird sigh from Raphael and some grumbling about Leo cleaning up his own messes.

After two weeks, you drop the subject of Leo completely. If he doesn’t want to see you, then you definitely don’t want to see him.

“How is the new place coming along?”

Mikey rocks from side to side on the edge of the building where the two of you have been tearing up bits of dying leaves and let them float on the wind. “I got my own room.”

Through the corner of your eye, you catch Mikey worrying his bottom lip and decide to wait for him to say more before responding.

“I’m right between Donnie and Raph. It’s pretty cool. I got a bed. And, uh, my music and stuff is all set up. But Raph took half the comic books. Donnie said I can borrow the textbooks anytime I want but…”

“What was your set up like before?”

“Huh?”

“At the Lair. Did you each have your own room?”

“Oh. No. Well, Leo did. He and Donnie had their own. Raphie and I shared,” Mikey’s voice got quieter as he spoke.

“What was it like, rooming with Raph?”

“It sucked. He smells bad after workouts and his cologne smells worse. And he says I snore. And he always moved my stuff and used my headphones without asking.”

“And you miss him.”

“And I miss- Hey…”

“It’s OK to miss him.” You pass Mikey a new leaf to tear. “I bet he misses you, too.”

“I bet he misses my headphones. For sure. He’s always breaking his.”

“He ever break your stuff?”

“Nah. Never. I wasn’t scared he was gonna break ‘em. I just didn’t want them smelling like Fierce by Abercrombie & Fitch.”

You laugh at that and Mikey loosens up a bit. “You share a wall with Raph, right?”

Mikey shrugs. “Kinda. Like a window.”

You lean back on your hands for support and look up at the sky with a smile. “I have an idea.”