#whatever. im around. i wanna say halfway through the game now?

[kordbot]

the one moral that comes out of to the moon is 'never marry a neurotypical'

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

ok im done wuthering my waves for the night

so far my thoughts are leaning towards positive since i was having fun the whole time:

the game does not feel polished at all and ran into a couple of weird visual/audio glitches.

the eng voice acting is hit or miss.

im not gonna judge the story at all because it would be like judging genshin halfway thru mondstadt, but after meeting scar i'm a lot more intrigued about the whatever themes the story is trying to say, because that fucked up fairy tale he told was sick as fuck. other than that im kinda ehhh at this point

im not a gamer, hyv games that got me REALLY playing video games besides a few select few so i dont consider myself 'good' at video games but the combat is fun and satisfying

the open world doesnt feel empty at all like i feared it would there have been plenty of shinnies to get distracted at and its a fun time

the echo system is a bit confusing and i still dont rlly understand how sets & stats work. but making 'artifacts' be pokemon you can run around and capture is SUCH a cool ass, but unsure how well it'll be in the later game statages

ended up with calcharo as my 5* and i'm glad because hes pretty straight forward and easy to use so its helpful during the learning process

i like how when you get new characters a little tutorial is unlocked and it walks you through the characters kit real time and its SO helpful in understanding what they do and if you like a character play style enough to level up a bit

i've been running around with calcharo and mortefi. switching around w danjin/aalto. i think sanhua is pretty and will probably use her when i DO get her, and i think i wanna go for changli when she comes out because boy is she PRETTY

silly thoughts:

the rave turtle echo is fuckin hilarious i love it

the world's fucked up problem being called 'lament' just makes me cackle and think of mr zy0x

i was expecting scar to be the edgy teehee so random im crazy xD type character but im pleasantly surprised by his introduction and im v curious about him

aalto is silly

mortefi is hot i like him, i had to pick a dude in this game it would probably be him (so far)

alright i think those are all my thoughts for now

[kingofthe-egirls]

Psssst, you okay with writing a Luffy smut short? Surprise me, add your own prompt and twist love❤️

Hmmm ok! I’m in love with Luffy so im always ready to write about him lmao

(cw: modern au, livestreaming on PornHub, onlyfans, camming, rich!luffy, food mention, trashy romance novel au)

(a/n: this is gonna just be me completely self-inserting myself. i need it.)

***

Your long brown hair falls over one shoulder, fluffy and tangled from under your headphones. You’ve been streaming on PornHub for a while now, having built your career with OnlyFans and livestreaming. You’re proud of what you do, albeit a little exhausted.

Hey!

Someone types a greeting, and you smile in response. “Hey there! What’s up?” You put on lipgloss, smacking your lips close to the mic in case he’s into ASMR.

I like ur smile :)

“Aw, thanks!” You click on his name to add a gold star, favoriting the newcomer on vibes alone. “Whatcha into?”

Hmmm…

He types, and you give him room. Men are typing with only one hand, usually. You smirk. “I’ve got tarot, ASMR, blowjobs, cosplay…SPH and foot fetish, although those are extra,” you meet the camera’s fisheye, but only for a moment. Eye contact is hard, even virtually.

What’s sph?

“Small penis humiliation,” you reply, clicking through your playlist. Marina and the Diamonds, today. “How To Be A Heartbreaker” is a classic, and you smile. “D’ya like being made fun of?”

Nope! But that’s okay lol

You hum.

What’s tarot?

You pick up your deck from beside you on the table: the Goblin Market Tarot, based on one of your favorite poems. You love faerie tales. “It’s a form of divination! Or just a game, depending on how you use it. But it’s cool! You can ask questions about love, career, relationships. And then the cards will tell you something specific about what’s going on!”

You shuffle the cards, shiny and periwinkle, experimentally. “Wanna read? It’s only $5 in free chat, ‘less you want a longer reading in exclusive.”

kingofthepirates has tipped you $5!

“Okay!” You say, excited. Tarot readings are your favorite. You have youtube videos and tiktoks, too. “What’s your question? I only pull one card for free chat.”

What’s for dinner?

“Ha!” You laugh out loud, “Let’s see!”

You flip over a card. Two more fall out of the deck after it, and you place them on the table in front of you. You scooch your laptop a bit farther away, to give the cards room.

“Hmm,” you say, peering over the watercolor art, “Looks like a lot, whatever it is. Ten of crowns—that’s swords—in reverse, eight of wands, and nine of platters. That’s pentacles, or earth. Which means food, material wealth, clothing, even. What d’ya like to eat? He’s got a platter of pears,” you hold up the card for the camera, grinning slightly.

Meat! Lol

“Haha, okay!” You tap on the cards in front of you. “Looks like a big party, maybe some conflict going on. Maybe a buffet? Like you’re fighting over food. But ya don’t have to be, with ten of swords in reverse, there’s plenty of food to go around. D’ya like barbecue? That’s what I’m getting.”

I do!

You sweep the cards up, and place them back in the deck neatly. “Well, that’s what I have for you! I like barbecue too, maybe I should order ribs…,” you click through your browser tabs, opening DoorDash to see what’s up.

Omg no way!!! Sanji is having a barbecue tonight!

“Sanji?” You ask, distracted, “Is that your boyfriend?” You love teasing men about having boyfriends and such, being bisexual (and nonbinary) yourself. You like tipping on the scales of heteronormativity, in whatever way you can. It makes them blush.

Nooo lmao he’s my cook! My friend

“Cook?” You ask, teasing. “What are you, rich?”

Yep!

Your eyebrows fly halfway up your forehead, but you don’t say anything. You calmly put the tarot deck away.

“I’ve never had a cook before in my life,” you cross your arms on the desk, letting your back arch so your cleavage sticks out.

It’s fun! He loves cooking and he’s the best at it. I also have a bodyguard but he’s my friend too. He likes swords ⚔️

You giggle at the emoji.

“Well, you came to the right place if y’wanna spend money,” you flirt, glittering at the camera. You’re not wearing makeup, but the pink light you have set up overhead does wonders for your skin. Plus the ring light to the side adds a couple sparkles to your eyes.

kingofthepirates has tipped you $50!

“Holy shit,” you breathe, quickly adding VIP to the stranger’s folder. “Thanks, king!” You smile, beaming at the screen. Maybe bills aren’t gonna be so bad, this week.

Let’s go to a show :)

“Gladly,” you fiddle with the collar of your robe, already itching to get undressed for this man. You hope he’s cute. “Exclusive?”

Sure 😈

kingofthepirates is requesting an Exclusive show. Accept?

You click “yes.”

Obviously.

***

The boy is very cute, as it turns out. He’s fisting his cock in one hand, camera turned on, with a sculpted abdomen and veiny forearms. His camera doesn’t show his face, but that’s normal for you. His glistening six-pack and toned arms are enough for you to get wet, grinding in your desk chair as you suck off your silicone toy.

“This is so hot,” he moans, voice raspy and sweet. His mic is turned on, which you usually hate, but this time it’s cute. Your pussy is aching, and you need his cock inside you soon.

“Fuck—,” you manage out, in between licks up the silicone shaft, “Glad you like it,” you pant.

“Love it,” he whines, playing with the bronze cockhead. His fingers are long and thick, with splotchy bruises on the knuckles. You wonder if he’s a boxer, or something. Or maybe just a troublemaker who gets in a lot of fights.

You pinch your own nipples, having teased off your silk robe at the start of the show. Now, you’re naked besides your cotton underwear that you usually keep on. Pussy’s for the OnlyFans, babes.

You’re actually turned on, too.

“Mmm,” he groans, speeding up his pace. He’s probably gonna cum soon, unless you slow down your show. You teasingly poke the cock into your mouth, stretching out your cheek. You roll your eyes up, moaning like a hentai girl.

“C-can you deepthroat it?” He asks, panting. His voice is so sexy, oh my god.

“I can try,” you giggle, and slide the cock halfway down your throat. Your gag reflex triggers, and you cough as you pull it out. “Sorry, I’m not the best at deepthroats,” you slap the toy against your cheek. He moans, anyway.

“God, you’re good,” he grips his balls with his other hand, and you notice scars up and down his arms. He also has one shaped like an X on his chest. You wonder where he got those, if he really is a reckless fighter, having adventures you can only dream of.

“What do you do?” You ask, jumping up and down in your seat. Your tits jiggle, and he groans appreciatively.

“Wish I could touch you,” his voice cracks. His hand trails up his abdomen, playing with his own nipples a bit. His hands are wide and thick, and you lick your lips.

“Me too,” you confess, genuine. He’s one of the hotter clients for you. You set the dildo down so you can play with your own tits. They’re soft and heavy, and you bounce them in your hands.

“But, ah,” he palms his cock softly, “I’m a MMA fighter. What about you?”

“Besides this?” You ask, tossing too-long hair over your shoulder. It brushes against your bare skin, and you grimace. You pull it up into a bun instead. Your eyes glitter at the camera, and your lips purse. “I make content on PornHub, OnlyFans, and other places like YouTube and stuff. Cosplay, tarot, mostly blowjobs. But not—on the wholesome places,” you breathe a laugh. “I’m kinda everywhere, these days.” You pause, unsure of what to do. “Here, let me copy and paste my username.” You send the info in chat, hoping to get an extra $5 for the OnlyFans sub.

“I’ll hafta subscribe,” he flirts, “Can I see that ass again?”

You grin, flushing slightly, as you stand up and turn around. You grab your ass in both hands, squeezing heavy flesh tightly. You bounce up and down, letting him appreciate the jiggle. Your cellulite and curves are one of a kind, you know this. Not everyone is stick-thin and spray tanned, so when customers click on your page they know they’re getting something genuine, and special.

At least, you hope.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawls out, and you turn over just in time to see him cum. Thick bursts of semen paint his clenching abs, and you hum.

“Good job,” you praise him, and he laughs. You sit back down.

“Shishishi,” he giggles, and you blush. He’s mad cute, to be honest. He fiddles with his phone, bringing it up to his face for the first time. You hitch a breath.

He’s mad cute.

“Make sure you favorite me,” you breathe, staring at his boyish features and jet black hair. His face is flushed, handsome, with a curved scar under one eye. He’s grinning at you with crinkly eyes. “S-so you can come back,” you stutter. Flustered.

Shit.

“Already did!” He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes up and down his camera. Looking at you, still bared body and soul in front of him. You wanna touch, and badly.

“Wanna hang out?” He asks, face cooling down. He grabs a towel, and wipes off his belly. He gasps, breathy, and leans back in bed. The covers are crisp and cool, almost like a hotel.

“Sure,” you breathe, ticking down to see your showtime extending. Past ten minutes, now. Fuck yeah, you think, leaning back in your own chair. “Whatcha wanna talk about?”

“Read my tarot again,” he cocks an eyebrow, “And let me know what it’ll take to get you to go on a date with me.”

***

Epilogue:

Hey 😈

He messages you on Insta, and you bite your lip. You’re sitting cross-legged at a café, having taken yourself out for a treat after your very long show this afternoon.

Hi baby 😇

You respond, too quickly. Who cares? You sip your drink, a foamy dirty chai. It tastes like cinnamon and almond milk.

Look up 👀

Frowning, you flick your eyes up and around the café. There. He’s seated across the way, at one of the square little tables situated in the center of the room. You blanch. That’s never happened before. Was there an angel of sex work watching over you?

You hope so. You gulp as he stands to make his way over to you. He’s even cuter in real life, and all thoughts of danger and serial killers and making mistakes leave your brain in one, swift breeze. You grin.

“Heya,” you say, sitting back to cross your legs. Your warm latte sits in both hands. You clear your throat. “Nice to meetcha,” you extend a hand. He takes it, smiling and warm.

“Hi,” he takes the seat across from you, pulling it out with one hand. The iron legs scrape across the granite floor. There's an exposed brick wall behind irl kingofthepirates.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," you hedge, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to be worried?"

He blanches, eyes wide. "N-no!! I swear I'm normal. I don't--live here, I'm visiting. I have a--a match tonight! D'ya wanna come see it? I can get you VIP seats." He scoots his chair closer, looking up at you from under pretty lashes. You purse your lips.

"Prove it."

He giddily takes out his phone, a very nice smartphone with a cute charm hanging from the side. You tilt your head, and see it's a little skull-and-crossbones. You smirk.

"Here!" He hands you his phone, sliding it across the table. "It's me!"

You see a YouTube video of a wrestling match: two muscular dudes with their hands wrapped in fists. One is wearing white-and-blue shorts with pink hair, tied back with a bandana. The other is kingofthepirates, wearing red shorts with his hair loose. It’s black and floppy in spikes. He jumps up and down a bit, getting ready. The bell dings, the ref moves, and the stadium around the ring erupts in lights.

King shuffles forward, fists up, and knocks the pink-haired guy out cold. “Holy shit,” you breathe, watching the match end after only one shot. “That’s you?”

“Yep!” He grins, “We’re having a rematch this afternoon. Wanna come? I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Sure,” you decide, not having much to lose. “Can I bring a friend?”

“Boyfriend?” He asks too soon. You sip your drink.

“Girlfriend,” you correct, arching an eyebrow. “Is that a problem for you?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, as long as we can still do shows sometime.”

“Sure,” you say, nodding. “I liked your show.”

He smiles, wide and delicious, before going back to his phone to text someone furiously. “Lemme getcha two VIP seats. I wanna see ya after the show.”

“Okay,” you hum, letting him type. You lean back in your chair, pulling up your own phone. You text Nami, your girlfriend.

Babe? Ur not gonna believe this ☠️

***

[lostacelonnie]

Surviving is one thing but befriending the alt girls? Now thats thriving congrats on the friend acquisition. Oh yeah absolutely thats super cool of your mom. To be so chill. More parents should aspire to be so chill. Birds are just chill dudes who exist & you can see them & its great. Fuck gulls though. They're nice to look at but will be bastards if you have food in some places. Ive been trying to learn german here & there and it is. Something. Mood but for english. Who needs grammer rules fuck em. I dont know polish so i definitely cant say. You probably mentioned it that sounds familiar but dang. Well it at least wont be as bad? My joke answer is gay sex would be less gay than whatever bronya/seele & march/stelle have goin on. My serious answer is that but also that was really well paced & written. Svarog my bro. Love him. Cocolia confrontation had killer music & the interaction with preservation was cool too. Love fire stelle abilities. Mobile is tough but just gotta fuck it we ball through it. Ill definitely have to add rain world to my list. Dredge is like. Lovecraftian horror fishing sim. Its really neat. River city girls is a simple beat em up adventure game where you fight through town doin little quests on your way through the main one. Real fun easy controls & the soundtrack is real good. Please do id love to hear your exploits. Yeah i have work a lot & so does she plus her kids so i dont talk to mine much either. Im getting to the point in star rail where i am catching up like genshin so ill probably log in less on that too unless more story happens or an event catches my eye. After next planet story anyways. Im not far enough in simulated universe to do swarm disaster sadly. Just gotta. Level them characters as usual. Ps5 star rail gave me gepard which he's good but like. I want bronya

YEAH ITS GREAT and thank you!! we have different groups this year and im very happy ab this bc most of the popular girls im scared of that i shared a group with last year are in the other one now. so im chillen. yeah shes VERY epic hehehehe!!!!! love her. YEAH frfr i agree.... ab the gulls as well i almost got Physically Attacked by one when i was on a trip on an island near alicante cos i was hanging out in the sea and went towards a small island not far away from the shore. not knowing there was a gull nest on it. but i took the hint when one started Screaming at me like halfway through. god i am scared of these things. theyre cool but from a safe distance. and ahhh good luck with learning german!! i took 4 years of it in primary school and still dont know a thing. but its a very charming language so maybe when i get a solid hang of spanish, ill revisit it. tho it Is funny to joke with my friends ab how i didnt allow ppl to germanize me. german was mandatory under the nazi occupation and theres this one patriotic song with the lines "nie będzie niemiec pluł nam w twarz / ni dzieci nam germanił" [the german will not spit in our face / nor germanize our children] but these days its often used for jokes ab having to learn the language. and yeah i suppose thats true!! it is what it is. anyway. YEAH i actually agree with both the joking and serious part andkfnjjb ESPECIALLY the cocolia boss fight. GOD that was cool. i honestly dont use fire trailblazer abilities that much but yes she does come in handy. good luck with surviving on mobile o7 also keep me updated if you do end up playing it!!!!!! its unbelievably hard but like. in a good way. OOH BOTH OF THESE SOUND VERY FUN!! speaking of which i have so many games i wanna play..... but i literally just spent around 200zł [a bit under 46 dollars] two days ago [wait im gonna tell you how in a second]. which actually connects to dye update: i redid my hair since it washed off pretty quickly [but ah i look so nice in red] for the very event i ended up spending way too much money on. and yeah fair rn im actually going onto genshin more often than star rail bc the fontaine exploration + catching up on sumeru exploration is just. So fun. havent played swarm disaster yet either...... no time...... i have a Lot of stuff to do for school recently. its been like what. 2 weeks. and we already finished the first chapter from history and were gonna have an exam soon. which im Dreading btw bc for some reason i went for extended history in school despite being physically unable to remember dates. but hey at least extended geography is easy [so far]. so fuck it we ball. anyway ah congrats on getting gepard!!! hes pretty overpowered yeah but i want bronya as well [i say barely ever logging into the game]. which is pretty funny bc i already got 3 5* things on standard in star rail while being like 150 pulls in and they were two claras and GEPARDS LIGHTCONE. which i cant even use on march since i run her in clara teams in which i need the taunt on clara. Lol. but whatever. ANYWAY ABOUT THE EVENT uhhh you Might recall that i went to like a. con-adjacent thing last year. its actually just mainly for buying merch but a Lot of people go in cosplays. anyway i went this year as well and got a bunch of prints [of focalors, fischl, signora, silver wolf, kafka, and miku], and some other stuff [charms of himeko starrail, silver wolf, and kafka, as well as bronya honkaiimpact3rd and kafka pins]. and a very cute choker. so YEAH for the sheer amount of stuff i got id say its a very good price but i still feel bad ab spending so much money in one go sjdkgkgjh

[jackienautism]

hi again! haven't played a ton since i last sent my ask lol because. well. i was putting off picking a house because i feel soso sad not picking my besties the eagles.... i think i'm gonna play quite a bit more tonight now that i've reached that point though! and yeah the second to last battle on CF is the dimitri one.

i'm definitely gonna get linhardt's a support next playthrough with the eagles! i'm gonna be more conscious of whose supports i'm getting next time because i didn't really realize what i was doing until like... halfway through the game?

the paired endings i ended up with were ferdinand and hubert, caspar and petra, and dorothea and sylvain. i really liked ferdinand and hubert's, caspar and petra's was pretty good, and while i didn't mind dorothea and sylvain's, if i knew what i was doing, i don't think i'd pair them up again lol.

speaking of which... i think i've decided i'm going to recruit petra this time as well instead of another lion.... i hear she and dorothea have a good paired ending and i only got up to their b support last time around. plus she has supports with claude which i'm interested to see. i say i'm going to recruit her instead of a lion but the more i think about it.... i'm probably gonna end up snagging ashe this time lol.

and. i think after i do a full playthrough of each route i'm gonna do a playthrough where i recruit everyone i can LMAO.

looking forward to seeing whatever it is that happens with marianne! she is such a fave for me honestly the more i think about her the more attached i get....

i have to be honest i have. no CLUE what classes my guys ended up as last time. sylvain and ferdie were on horses...... caspar was punching things by the end (i had him on a wyvern for a while but he was doing no damage and dying super easily so. i switched him over). uhhhh. and i'm blanking on everyone else. OH bernie was a sniper. i'll go check maybe? i think i have a save with everyone close to the end.

and thank you!!! i hope you have a good day/night as well :) will keep you posted on this playthrough as well lol

HELLOOOO sorry fo rtaking a day or two to respond! hope youve been doing well in the meantime! and yeah....i feel that so hard </3 took me also a bit to start up my verdant wind playthrough, let alone FINISH it. its just so hard not being w/ the black eaggles the beloveds.... it hurt esp knowing that i wouldn't be on edie's side too tbh ): wish you the best of luck going through this route jdfgndfg esp if you choose not to recruit all the BE. DO tell what happens later on w/ them if you don't recuit them though👀

YIPPEE have fun getting his A support! its obv gonna be a bit but! hopefully you see it as worth it :] and ah okay... you mean like. the supports you get between the other characters? or do you mean which characters you get A supports w/ byleth :o? regardless, thats what the first route is for yk? esp since you havent played a single fire emblem game prior... im sure you did just fine! the support mechanic is rly fun, but it can def be a bit much, esp if you dont rly know whats going on. atleast you know what youre doing now though!

dfkdfn fair enough on dorothea and sylvain. i cant say much bc i have yet to go thorugh their supports let alone see their ending, but yeah them being paired def is not my first choice. esp knowing how sylvain is and all... even dorothea w/ any noble is a bit like. eh? for me tbh. i guess an exception being edie i suppose. or maybe im mainly thinking of ingrid. either way. her or dorothea being paired w/ any noble guy is a bit......... iddk for me kfdngkfg i soroooort of enjoy dorothea and ferdie though. i remember rly liking ferdie and hubert's supports and ending... will def have to watch and get petra and caspar's!

OHH MAN I CANT REMEMBER MUCH OF IT BUT LIKE THE LAST LINE OR SO OF DOROTHEA AND PETRA'S MAKES ME SO ): BUT IN SUCH A GOOD WAY. THEYRE SO SWEET. getting petra and ashe seems like a good plan to me! esp if you wanna see petra and claudes suppports... i only got to their c support but i rly liked what was going on dfgndg petra was ina treee. and that is all i will say. but yeah </3 have fun fighting your besties later in th egame i guess<//3 esp if you only recruit petra and ashe<///3

YEAAAGH THOSEROUTES ARE ALWAYS FUN.... bc it truly is interesting to see everyone's thoughts and stuff regarding the current events post timeskip.... since i assume its unique depending on which route youre playing. and its fun seeing what they have to say. esp if theyre not from the route's original house. so have fun w/ that!!!! i personally always recruit everyone i can just cause (or atleast i try) bc. i hate fighting them later on. but once again. angst is good

were you able to do marianne's paralogue :o? bc i think that is where the bulk of her character and backstory explanation comes from... my route of verdant wind was split in half (since i took like a 2 year long break LOL) so i cant remember exactly what happenss w/ marianne specifically... but she is therr w/ the rest of the golden deer which is alll that matters<3

no worries if you cant remember or cant find out man! i was just curious ! since theres just SOOO much you can do yk? sylvain and ferdie were on horses for me as well... but tbh im w/ you here i cant remember what i did exactly for my crimson flower run fdgndfg i think i had caspar on a wyvern as well? he worked out ok i think for me so i wonder what happened hmmmm. i watched a video and read the comments and a bunch of ppl were saying to like put everyone on a horse or wyvern or pegasus dfkgndfg bc tbh.... the mobility is SOOOO important and good. but i understand not going for it since the classes are pretty limited if you wanna do mounted or flying. but it has personally worked out very well for me. esp if my non mounted classes have a large movement range (aka non mage or non heavy armored classes) i tend to avoid heavy armor stuff, esp when the rest of my team have high mobility, bc the slowness of the classes become sooooo obvious. before you know it theyre lagging behind everyone else and its just hnnnng yk

and thank you<3 and thank you again for sharing your progress w/ me! i feel honored. i will be gladly awaiting your next check in :D take your time though of course

[kiyoors]

moment's silence

hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers! Atsumu x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: a bit of angst, followed by fluff n comfort, 'tumu cries bc he's frustrated w himself :(( , mentions of insecurity and not being good enough, soft pinning bc we all know im a sucker for it

a/n: I just wanna hold Atsumu n tell him I love him. 

The ride back from the tournament is quiet-- too quiet. And, while you don't pretend to think that the bus rides back to campus after a loss are just as loud as they are after a win, it's never been this quiet. Atsumu has never been this silent. In all of the years of knowing him, growing up with him, he's always had something to say; no matter how unnecessary it is, Miya Atsumu always has something to say. Instead, the boy sits quietly in the seat behind yours. See, even that was off, because while you usually sat at the front along with the coaches, Atsumu could always be found at the back, either chatting poor Aran's ear off or bothering the shit out of his twin. Now, though, he sat at the front, just at your back.

As the team manager, you'd brought along snacks to distribute for the bus ride home, having finished distributing them out, along with a couple of small encouragements and smiles to the boys, you made your way back to the front. Atsumu had subtly refused and shook his head as you offered him his bag of snacks, never meeting your eyes, as you took your seat again.

You could almost feel the frustration radiating off of him-- off the whole team-- as the silence stretched, some of the boys dozing off, if they could afford to escape their remorse for just a moment.

The game had been frustrating. Even if it had been a minor tournament, Inarizaki had been expected to win; what with the famous Miya twins and their amazing spikers and defense, they would surely have the small community tournament in the bag. Except they hadn't. It had been the third set, each team having won a set, and Inarizaki was at match point. Atsumu had gone for a setter dump, but the other team had somehow been able to dig it out-- a fluke, it must have been-- earning them a point, only to then score enough to take the set. Nobody had blamed Atsumu (some of the fans at the stands had been absolute bitches, though), but you and the rest of the team knew he'd gone with whatever he thought was best.

You're about halfway through the trip back when you turn to look at Atsumu, peeking behind your seat. You want to say something, anything, to him, but you can't find the right words. It a dense, heavy silence that clouds the air. 

The boy is fiddling his fingers, leaning over with his elbows digging onto the tops of his knees. It was so unlike him, you think. Gently, you nudge one of his knees with your wrist, a pocky stick snack in hand, offering it to him, "eat," you instruct.

Atsumu meets your eyes for just a second-- you think it may be your imagination, but you feel him lightly press his knee back against your wrist-- before he refuses with a shake of his head.

" 'Tsumu," you say, knowing he secretly likes it whenever you call him that (Osamu had to tell you, though, because Atsumu would never admit it out loud), "you need to eat; c'mon just a nibble?"

It's now that Atsumu meets your eyes, but you can't quite discern his look. Again, he's never been this quiet, especially around you, never missing the opportunity to tease you (usually by bringing up when you used to like him back in elementary school) until you retaliate back (saying how your taste in men has, since then, greatly improved,, has it really though?). Now, though, it's almost as if he's looking right through you, swimming in a sea of his own thoughts. His eyes are hard as they finally focus on you, wordlessly refusing again.

You tell yourself this will be your last attempt, otherwise he can starve, before you bring the snack to his mouth, nudging his bottom lip, "please, 'Tsumu."

He sighs before he takes a large bite out of it and you smile at him in triumph; he gives you an almost-smile in return, still too busy navigating his thoughts. You eat the remainder of the snack stick before turning back to look at the front.

----------

It's only after the shortest post-game debrief that you assure the team that you'll finish putting the remaining gear away for them, telling them to go home and get some rest.

You're exiting the supply closet when you hear the distant, all too familiar screeching of sneakers on hardwood floors and volleyballs being hit. You sigh, almost sure that Atsumu and Aran are still at the gym blowing off some pent up steam and frustration.

You wave off Osamu, his twin not in sight, on your way to check the gym, wishing him a good night and a 'good job today'; he half heartedly nods and thanks you.

Aran is the next person you see, exiting the locker rooms, gym bag in hand. It slightly worries you now that you still hear noise from the gym, and yet Aran is here, wishing you a good night as he leaves.

As much as he practices, Atsumu doesn't usually do it alone.

Tentatively, you peek your head to look into the gym. Sure enough, the boy in question is there, throwing himself balls as he practices his serves.

Although the gym is spacious, you feel claustrophobic with just Atsumu, you, and all of his pent up emotions stuffed in there. Still from the door, you clear your throat, hoping to get his attention as he concentrates on the serve, but he shakes you off. You frown. As much as Atsumu could be an asshole at times, he was never this big of a dick towards you. You call out his name this time, louder, and you can somehow feel the roll of his eyes from your spot at the door.

"Atsumu."

He serves the ball.

"Atsumu."

He ignores you again and takes another one from the basket, readying himself to throw it in the air.

"Atsu-" you're cut off this time by the hard slam of the ball as it hits the floor, a perfect service ace.

As both a caring and a pissed of friend, you stomp towards the blonde, new ball in hand, taking a hold of his shoulder making him look at you as you being to speak, "listen," you snarl, "i know how much losing sucks ass, but that doesn't give you a right to be such a di-"

You cut yourself off as you take a good look at his face. The tip of his nose is red, his lips wobbly. His usually easy, knowing eyes fill with unshed tears.

Softening, you call to him again, "'Tsumu,"

He closes his eyes to prevent the tears from falling, looking up at the ceiling, willing his tears back into their ducts. Your voice is so soft, so soothing, and Atsumu feels like he's drowning. He's drowning in a million and one frustrations, in what-could-have-beens, in if-only-i-hads. He should have won this, easily. He should have been faster, he should have trained harder, if only he had been ready, if only he wasn't as cocky-- if only, if only, if only. He can't help but worry his lip at the insecurity that ebs at him; this wasn't him, but every once in a while, he found himself lost in it, overwhelmed and frustrated by it, until it all became too much.

"i-" god. He can't even speak without his voice cracking.

Your heart cracks a little along with it.

“i was so useless out there today, (y/n).”

Atsumu grips the ball in his hands, the only thing he can do to prevent them from shaking. He feels out of place here, now, around you. You're too beautiful, too perfect, to be looking at him, broken as he is. He's known you his whole life, and he's always had a love-hate relationship with the way you make him feel. You make him want to be better, for you, because it's everything that you deserve; you make him want to shrink in on himself, being too much of an ass to ever deserve someone like you. Ever since he's known you, he's hidden behind his cocky facade, but you've always managed to tear it down, to shove away at the curtain to reveal the 'true Miya Atsumu’, as you'd once told him, half asleep as you held on to his waist and sat behind him on his bike one night as he took you home. You must have been no older than ten, both of you tired enough to lower both your guards, as you kissed his cheek in thanks, and he'd let you.

He hates how broken he actually feels in front of you; he doesn't know, though, if he hates how you don't see him as weak for it. Instead, you gently take the ball from his hands, dropping it to the side as you gingerly take his large, rough palms in yours.

You're both looking down at your interlocked hands; it's a heavier silence than the one that filled the bus.

You notice how red and angry his palms are after who-knows-how-many spikes, his knuckles and fingertips beginning to dry with the oncoming cold season. Both your hands encompass his own when you bring them to your lips, pressing them to his knuckles, before individually kissing and soothing each of his reddened fingertips.

“Take care of yourself, Atsumu,” You're so gentle, breath warming his cold hands, "you were amazing today." Atsumu's tears finally begin to fall.

“Think of all the points that you did score," you continue, "seven service aces in one set? You were wonderful, and now you need to rest,”

He sniffles after a while, still trying to hold most of his pained sounds in, but the way you look at him has the knot in his chest and belly easing itself, melting away as he melts against you. Somehow, you always manage to help him make sense out of everything. It's so simple with you.

You bring your body close to his, allowing him to hide his face in the crook of your neck as he sobbs his frustrations away. Although he's arguably bigger than you, Atsumu feels small and safe in your embrace. He thinks it may be the way your hand traces patterns along his back, your other going just under his shirt to soothingly rest against the small of his back, thumbing at his spine.

You let him cry his frustrations out, until eventually he's slumping against you, tired. It's then that you whisper his name, your lips at his ear and he involuntarily shivers. Your hands leave his back to cup his tear-stained cheeks in front of you. His big, pretty eyes look tired, but he seems significantly more at ease now that he's let out his pent up emotions.

You give him a small smile as you rub at his cheek, thumb gazing at his lower lashes, "better?" you ask.

He sniffs but nods nonetheless, his voice a little wobbly even after he clears his throat to speak, "thank you, (y/n),"

You smile again, about to respond when he continues, "thanks for puttin' up with me, ever since we were little."

He sniffles again before he gently butts your foreheads together, closing his eyes and relishing in the all too familiar warmth that is you.

His hands are at your waist to steady himself, and you find it a little harder to speak now, "you've put up with me, too, 'Tsumu; I hope ya know, I don't intend on letting you leave anytime soon."

He visibly softens at your words, "ya sure ya can handle that? A won't make it easy for ya" he teases, but he hopes your answer is yes, because he doesn't plan on letting you go anytime soon, either.

You scoff, "I've lasted this long, 'Tsum 'Tsum. Remember, I'm the honorary Miya triplet." you jokefully nudge the side of his hip with yours, teasing back at what the neighborhood parents used to call you. Atsumu laughs, thinking, somewhere deep in his mind, that he would like for you to be a Miya, someday— not a triplet, though, but he doesn't tell you this.

Instead, he tightens his hold on your waist, taking a deep breath as he grounds himself. You patiently wait, gifting him all the time that he needs to sort out through his remaining thoughts, as you run your hands through his hair. It's not often that Atsumu breaks down like this, but he knows enough about this to know he wants to be with you whenever he does crack. 

In his life, there's only ever been two constants: you and Osamu. And, while Atsumu knows he can count on his twin for anything, any kind of support, no matter how many fights they get into, it's just always been different with you. You come, offering him a different sort of perspective, one maybe his twin can't show him. He loves the way his life looks through your lens: brighter, not as dull, not as smug, or painful, with a soft, hazy glow to it. He likes it; he likes you, he'd come to realize one day.

He quietly chuckles as he hears you hum, finally, he meets your eyes as you speak, "better?" you repeat. The soft in his pretty brown eyes lets you know your Atsumu is back. You look into his eyes for a little bit too long.

It's now him who envelops you in a tight hug, whispering a soft 'yes' to your hair.

Your heart does a funky sort of flip when he does pull away to take your hand, dragging you out of the gym, taking you back home.

You still have to talk; talk about today, and, maybe, possibly, both of your feelings, but that can wait for now— until you’re both secure, together, in a cocoon of blankets on Atsumu’s couch.

a/n: thank you for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts!! :)

[spacedikut]

the very insecure dr reid ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: “Could you write another fic about early Spence where he’s all insecure” combined with another request :) 5730 words

a/n: title taken from s1e5!! i wrote this months ago aka before i decided to try to make my fics gender neutral and i tried to make the appropriate changes but im also a dumbass so! yeah! 

masterlist

Spencer is a man of science, if you didn’t already know.

This means he doesn’t spend his time fretting over what isn’t there, what doesn’t have facts and evidence to back it up. Of course, he dabbles in reading conspiracy theories and enjoys learning about various religions and things of that sort, but these are to expand his already infinite knowledge, not because he particularly believes in them.

The first time he believed there was some kind of God was when you kissed him.

It was after the case where both Elle and Spencer were trapped on a train with a paranoid schizophrenic – he still remembers how you reacted when he agreed to being sent in, how you tried to keep it light-hearted but pulled him aside to solemnly tell him you didn’t think you’d be able to live without him (if you do something rash and stupid, Spencer, I swear to God-). You threatened to nipple cripple him if he did die, and it was weirdly motivating.

After he was checked over, and teased Elle about saving her life, you came crashing into him with an audible oof and a whisper of, “God you smell so good I’m so glad you’re okay don’t ever do that again.” It was probably the adrenaline, the near-death experience high, but instead of gently pushing you away like he’d do with anyone else, he discovers your waist has a wonderful dip that his arms fit perfectly into as he tugs you close.

He’s hugged people before, obviously, but it’s always different with you.

You must think so, too, because when you pull away just enough that you’re still in his arms but can clearly see his face, you take a minuscule intake of breath that Spencer wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t, you know, Spencer.

A strand of Spencer’s hair falls from where it was tucked, falling into his line of sight. Without hesitation you’re pushing it back, fingertips brushing against Spencer’s cheek as you fold the hair back behind his ear. Your eyes meet when there’s no obstruction, electricity crackling in Spencer’s ears when he realises there’s nothing between you, nothing stopping you, and there’s something about the lack of space between you and how he holds you that just makes you ask-

“Would it be weird if I kissed you right now?”

Immediately, Spencer thinks yes. Not because he doesn’t want you to (he couldn’t think of anything better to do, to be honest), or because of where you are (although, knowing the whole team is not far away does make him feel a little funny), it’s because he’s him. Gangly, awkward, with very sweaty hands that feel at home on your body, and you don’t want to kiss that. You can’t want to.

Yet, he shakes his head, and finds himself copying you when you lean in and close your eyes.

It’s short, sweet, and somewhat weird. He thinks he blacks out, loses himself in your lips despite it happening so quickly.

When you pull back, Spencer’s eyes remain closed for a good few seconds before he’s brought back to Earth. And he doesn’t know what to say - pretty people don’t just… kiss him. They certainly don’t ask if they can kiss him, then follow through, and… stare at him like that.

“Has anyone seen Reid? Y/L/N?”

Whatever was supposed to happen after, whether it was good or bad, you’ll never know. Hotch’s footsteps are thundering towards you and, despite your daze, you step away from Spencer just as he spots you.

The second time he believed there was a God, he asked you on a date. And you said yes.

Neither of you mention the kiss. In your defence, he supposes, it happened merely an hour ago – everyone’s rushing to get back to Quantico so no one’s had time to make any kind of small talk, let alone have the talk after a kiss.

Elle gives Spencer a look of confusion when she slides past him, moving into the jet as he hovers in the entryway. He’s obviously waiting for someone, passing out tight lipped smiles to the team when they all squeeze past. Spencer isn’t a big guy, but it’s bizarre for him to be standing there like that, swaying like the palm tree he is – he’s usually setting up for yet another game of chess with Gideon at this moment.

Then you shuffle on, faltering when you catch him waiting for you but smile nonetheless. He straightens, hands remaining in his pockets when his mouth opens to speak. You interrupt him (before he can make a fool of himself, thank God).

“Wanna sit together?” You ask, eyes never leaving his. He nods and follows you like the lost puppy he is.

The second you invite him to sit next to you instead of opposite he wants to pull you tight into his side, but that seems like too much. He’s not Derek, for Heaven’s sake, and you’re not Garcia – all you’ve done is kiss once and really, when he thinks about it, you were probably on an adrenaline high too, so it might’ve been a heat of the moment thing. It happens, Spencer’s read about it, and although it would break his heart that it meant nothing, it’s likely. Oh, it’s so likely.

Spencer might be the first one on the team to cry on the BAU jet.

Halfway home, the team is lost in their own pass-times to notice when you bookmark your page and place your book on the table.

“Spence,” You whisper, testing if he’s awake.

He is. He hasn’t been able to catch a wink of sleep, no matter how hard he tries. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry if what I did earlier- you know-“ You gesture vaguely in the air, completely oblivious to the fact Spencer is very familiar with what happened earlier because he can’t stop replaying it, “-If that made you uncomfortable. Or if I forced you, or-“

“Would it be weird if I asked you on a date when we land?”

The grin you send him shoots straight to his heart, eyes crinkling with laughter at his echo of the words you used earlier. If you notice you don’t mention it, but his hands can’t stop fidgeting under the table, slick with sweat.

“It’d only be weird if you don’t kiss me after.” You say.

His brows furrow, a small incredulous laugh leaving him. “What? Why?”

“We’ve already had our first kiss, so it’s out of the way.”

“Are you saying… You want to kiss me again?”

You thought that was obvious from when you kissed him earlier, but you’re happy to remind him. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

“Okay,” He says, bashfully, with a lick of his lips. “I can- I can arrange that.”

This time, when you turn back to your book, your head finds his shoulder and Spencer thinks his it has turned to gold, blessed by being touched by you. Would it be too much if, the second you get back to base, he writes about this moment in great detail to his mother?

+++

All of that leads to now, where The Date is in three days.

He plans to take you to his favourite book café, a place you’ve always wanted to go but never had the chance to, and he was so, so excited. Any time he gets to spend with you is cherished and means more to him than it does to you, because to him it’s an excuse for you to give him more reasons to fall in love with you. And he does - fall in love - every single day.

Was is the important word here. He’s not excited anymore.

It’s terrifying how quick the tides can change.

Just this morning, he was glancing with child-like excitement at the outfit he’s already chosen for the date. You brought him some coffee, whispering an endearing, “Three days!” as you did, and, according to Derek, Spencer’s love eyes (what the hell does that mean) were so big even Derek fell in love with you for a second.

Now, Spencer’s not territorial, but that comment stuck with him. Maybe that’s why he’s here now.

He has to cancel the date.

It pains him – God, does it pain him – but he has to. He can’t go on that date with you. He can’t… put you through that. Make you spend time with him and have to let him down gently, slowly, like you’re talking down a temper tantrum. He can’t then pretend everything’s okay in front of the team. He won’t be able to pretend, because he’s liked you for months.

He won’t force you to go on that date with him. You deserve better than that, and better than him.

That’s what it comes down to: you deserve better than him.

It started that morning with Derek, as previously mentioned. Then the team was whisked away on a case, and the detectives were all over you. JJ, too, but they were too intimidated by Elle and Morgan, who just laughed at their attempts to impress you. It was borderline inappropriate, but you were too concerned with the victims and finding a serial killer to pay some officers and detectives you’ll never see again any attention.

Spencer noticed, though. And he couldn’t concentrate.

The detectives are dressed too well – by that, he means the suits and the Rolex watches are way above their paygrade – and they keep emphasising how good looking you and JJ are and how lucky the BAU is to have such dolls working on the team. What is this, the 40s? Who calls anyone doll anymore? And, yes, the team is very lucky to have you and JJ, but because you’re both great minds and wildly intelligent people that, yes, are also very gorgeous, but your looks aren’t all you have to offer, thank you very much.

There’s a detective approaching you, again, as you stand by the water cooler.

Spencer frantically looks around, trying to find a member of the team. “Morgan!” He weakly calls, because Spencer won’t scare him off. Maybe Morgan can chase them away like they’re stray cats, with his big muscles and scary eyebrows. Or Elle, who earlier merely lifted an eyebrow and the officers scattered like cockroaches.

All he catches of the conversation between you and the model/detective at the cooler is, “I appreciate it, but no thank you,” and that’s all he needs to hear.

He should’ve known someone would eventually make a move. You’ve said no, clearly, and Spencer doesn’t understand why. I mean, yes, he knows why – you have a prior engagement – but the detective… As much as he’s kind of a dick, he complements you better than Spencer does. Physically.

And there starts the spiral.

There must be something in the water, because every officer and detective and everyone in between is in peak physical condition with dashing looks to boot. They’re all straight out of a magazine, as if the popular kids from Spencer’s high school graduated and followed him here to remind him he is incredibly unworthy of you.

Spencer is lanky, unlike the broad men and curvaceous women here, and slicks his hair to the side rather than up like the others. He wears sweater vests, not blazers, and he’s so skinny that his trousers always look like hand-me-downs – nothing is fitted, like so many outfits are here.

They’re all everything Spencer is not. And Spencer is realising, quite quickly, that they’re the better ones – and that’s what you deserve. Better. The best.

It gets worse when they deliver the profile.

He finds his spot next to you, gives you a tight lipped smile, then looks at the outfits of his team compared to his own. Both Hotch and Morgan wear dark suits, well-proportioned and sophisticated in a way that Spencer is sure isn’t even in his calibre. Elle wears a deep green t-shirt, tucked into her tight black pants, and looks wonderfully intimidating with her double gun holster wrapped around her shoulders.

And you. You.

You wear a white shirt tucked into nicely tailored trousers, hair effortlessly styled with a pen tucked behind your ear. You all look like FBI agents. Intimidating. Prepared. Put-together.

Spencer… looks like he’s still in high school. He threatens no one, intimidates no one, and definitely does not make anyone feel inferior with his masculinity. He’s not an alpha male, is what he’s trying to say, and for each person he encounters in this wretched police department he feels himself shrinking.

So when they give the profile, he tries to say as little as possible. Tries to attract as little attention as possible, so when Hotch says his usual, “Thank you.” He can slip away unnoticed and hide from the superior beings.

It works, given everyone is too busy trying to save lives. Except you notice, and Spencer has to pretend he’s okay when you find him at the evidence board and tell him you’re excited for the date. He wants to believe you, truly does, but no matter how hard he digs into his brain to find a part of him that can fathom you see him as a better option than literally anyone else, it doesn’t exist.

You don’t seem to notice. He tells himself he’s glad, but there’s no denying the disappointment.

+++

Hotch calls it a night when the clock nears midnight. He says the team should get as much rest as possible and come in with fresh eyes tomorrow – despite this, the team knows most if not all of them will get little to no sleep, given that they’ll all be going over everything they’ve got so far in their hotel rooms.

You slink up to Spencer, a pep in your step even though you’re running on pure caffeine and nothing else. It’s then Spencer realises he has to do it now, because if he does it in the police department then he’ll be called unprofessional, but if he waits any longer than that he’ll be cutting too close and that’s a bad look.

“Y/N,” He says, coming to a stop before the elevators, allowing the rest of the team to head up. “I need to say something.”

You nod with a smile, covering a cute yawn when he takes a couple seconds to gather his thoughts.

You’re not sure what he’s gonna say, but you assume it’ll be to do with the date. Maybe a change of time, or a change of venue – he did mention the library café can get super busy on weekends – or, worst case scenario, the date will have to be postponed for whatever reason. And none are particularly bad, because you’re excited and just want to be with Spencer – it doesn’t matter if it’s not when he originally planned or where he originally planned.

But Spencer has always unwittingly been full of surprises.

“We can’t go on that date.”

Instantly you ask, “Why not?”

“Well-“ He seems caught off guard, like he wasn’t expecting you to question the sudden change of heart, “It’s complicated-“

“I’ve got time.”

“We should go to sleep-“

“Is it your mother?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Of course you look empathetic when you consider his mother might need him – a stab to the start. Add in the flicker of concern in your eyes – two stabs to the heart. “It’s not her. It’s- it’s nothing. Just, can we cancel?”

“And reschedule?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

The disappointment is clear on your face and makes Spencer feel so guilty, but not guilty enough to take it back. You’re not disappointed that you’re missing out on dating him, you’re frustrated that you’ve been building up to having plans on the weekend and they’ve suddenly been cancelled without reason. By Spencer, of all people. In a couple months’ time you’ll thank him, when you’re dating some bodybuilder who can grow a mean beard. You’ll thank him for not making you go on that date with him and forcing you to tell him you’re just not my type, Spence, and making everything awkward.

He can’t look at you. Maybe that’s why he misses the genuine sadness, the sudden glassiness of your eyes that humiliates you enough to make you angry. His words have ignited a fire in your chest that burns through your body like you’re made of gasoline, and you wish you could turn your thoughts off so you don’t start questioning how long he’s been wanting to reject you, if he even wanted to date you in the first place, how embarrassing it is to have been so openly eager when, apparently, he was very much not.

“I’m sorry.” He says, like it’ll do anything. He still can’t look at you and he feels like a coward.

“Yeah.” You sniffle.

He decides to take the stairs. You head for the bar, just for one drink.

+++

The following day, when an officer tries to talk to you, you blatantly ignore him. You tell him that unless it’s work-related, you’re really not interested, and word spreads quick that your pleasantries have died out and you’re not in the mood to tolerate creepy compliments.

There’s a permanent frown on your face that haunts Spencer the entire day. He knows exactly what’s going on – it’s his fault, after all – and he finds himself simultaneously avoiding you whilst witnessing your downcast mood.

Morgan starts investigating not long after you barely react to his terrible joke. He makes them for you, because you either choke on laughter or throw your pen at him, but this time it was like you weren’t even in the room. When Morgan poked you and asked if you heard him, your lacklustre reply was, “Hm? Yeah, good one.”

Morgan perches on the desk Spencer’s using. “You got any idea what’s going on with Y/N?”

“They’re mad at me.”

“You’re the reason they’re like this?”

Spencer doesn’t physically react, just says, as casually as possible, “Unless another person asked them on a date then cancelled without reason, then yes. It’s my fault.”

There’s no point in lying. Especially to Derek. Spencer doesn’t know how you’ll go about explaining your sudden poor mood, if you’ll curse his very existence or lie about it, but Spencer’s never been a good liar and the sooner everyone knows it’s his fault and he sucks, the better.

Morgan leans forward, attempting to make eye contact with the doctor who very much does not want to. “There’s a story there.”

“Obviously.”

“…You wanna go ahead and explain it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright,” Derek shrugs, “You stir in your sadness and continue being a sourpuss, I’ll go check up on Y/N and find out what really happened.”

Derek’s barely moved off the table when Spencer stops him, voice small like a child, “Wait, Morgan, I-“

You walk past then, too focused on a suspect list faxed in by Garcia to pay attention to anyone else. Spencer’s eyes follow you the whole time, and the look in Spencer’s twinkling eyes make Morgan slump back onto the table in realisation.

“Why’d you cancel, Reid?”

“I had to.”

“You had other plans?”

Spencer chews his bottom lip. “No. But I… I couldn’t take them on a date.”

Derek waits for him to elaborate.

“Have you seen the kind of guys hitting on them?” Spencer asks, scooting his chair closer so no one can eavesdrop. “They’re all… They’re- they’re like you, Morgan. All cool and put-together and actually look their age, for one, and I’m not that. I could never be that – and that’s what Y/N wants-“

“Have you asked them that?”

“No. But I’m a profiler, in case you forgot, and I think it makes sense that these big-shouldered, super muscly guys are all over-“

“But you haven’t actually asked them what they want.”

“No.” Spencer sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“That’s your first, and most vital, mistake, my man.”

Spencer purses his lips, catching you watching him over Derek’s shoulder. You immediately look away, shooting off to the evidence room as an escape, and Spencer’s cheeks burn with guilt and embarrassment.

He can’t believe he thought he had a chance with you.

“I feel like this should be obvious, Genius, but Y/N said yes to a date with you, then turned down every offer that came from someone that wasn’t you-“

“That’s because they already made plans with me and they’d feel terrible if they had to cancel for another, better offer. I made it easier for them.”

Derek gives him such an incredulous look Spencer wonders if he should burn his PhDs. “Are you serious?”

The crestfallen expression on Spencer’s face is enough of an answer.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“C’mon,” Derek tugs Spencer up from his chair. “I need to show your dumb ass something.”

All that’s missing is classic spy music when Derek and Spencer sneak into the conference room the BAU is using. Only Hotch is in there, scribbling something down, barely glancing up when the two agents creep in like they’re on a mission.

Spencer doesn’t say anything until Derek reaches for your bag. “Whoa- Morgan-“

“Relax.”

Spencer just stares, brows halfway down his face, and watches silently.

“That’s they’re journal, Morgan, you can’t just read it-“

“It’s not, pretty boy.”

Hotch watches the interaction, mildly confused, then nods to himself when he realises what Morgan’s holding.

Morgan splays the journal on the table in front of them, flipping through pages with precision like it’s his notebook and not yours. When he lands on his desired page, it’s slid towards Spencer.

He reads it.

The Doctor Spencer Reid cheat sheet. (Because I do not have an eidetic memory and feel bad whenever I forget something he tells me)

He’s too stumped by the words cheat sheet to look further, so Derek does it for him, flipping to the next page where very basic information about Spencer sits – full name, date of birth, hometown. As he looks to the page next to it, he realises it’s full of his favourite things – favourite coffee, favourite candy (which has multiple answers, by the way), even favourite pair of socks. Like a switch has been flipped, Spencer comes to life, frantically switching between pages that are overflowing with facts and tidbits about him, from his favourite monologue from his favourite film to his favourite shelf in his apartment. All things he’s told you either in passing or when he’s confided in you at random times, you’ve taken note. You’ve listened, and for some reason you’ve written it all down so you’d never forget.

“What��What is this?”

“It’s everything there is to know about you, Reid.” Derek watches as Spencer slips through the rest of the book, filled with random to-do lists and phone numbers of various people, looking for the same information about the rest of the team. “There’s only one for you, you know. And if you ask me it’s a little creepy, but it’s saved our asses when it’s come to buying gifts for you a good few times.” He slaps a hand on his friend’s shoulder, smirking at how Spencer’s awe-filled eyes never leave the pages before him. “They care about you a lot, Reid. More than you think. So…”

“I need to talk to them.”

“Yes, idiot, you do.”

+++

That night, Elle and Derek invite you to join them for some drinks at the bar, promising they won’t let it escalate to arm wrestling and childish bets like they always do. Even though they make a compelling argument, add on that you’re stressed and upset and really, really want to forget emotions exist more than anything else, you’re half tempted to accept and lose yourself in some cocktails.

Then you spot Spencer talking in hushed tones with Gideon and everything comes flooding back. So you tell Elle to have a drink for you, please don’t make a ruckus when she gets back to your shared room, and bid them adieu.

In your room, you distract yourself by renting one of your favourite movies. It’s overpriced, and a part of you wants to look over the case files again, but being sad and burnt out won’t lead to any good outcomes.

It’s a futile attempt at switching your brain off so you don’t have to think about how excited you were for the date. You’ve had twenty-four hours to get over it, but every time you see him you’re thrown back into the bitterness you feel – bitter that you fooled yourself into thinking it’d work out, bitter that your hopes were so high, bitter that you let your feelings for Spencer become such a big part of your life.

You’re lying on your scratchy hotel bed, thinking about Spencer and how he’s going to be complaining to Morgan about said scratchy beds, when there’s a knock at your door.

Naturally, you assume its Elle. She reminds you so much of your older sister who used to slide you some money so you’d stay up late into the night and quietly let her back into the house after she’s sneaked off to go to a party – except Elle is probably swaying outside your hotel room after losing her keycard rather than swaying on your doorstep.

So when you open the door, teasing quip ready, you legitimately choke when you’re faced with a fidgety Spencer Reid.

He tries to ignore how the way your face drops when you realise it’s him feels like a punch to the gut.

“Hey-“

“No.”

“Oh.”

“You-what-“ He’s never seen you so flustered. “Are you lost?”

Just in case, Spencer leans back to check the number beside your door is in fact 208. It is, and he turns back to you, “Please don’t slam the door in my face.”

It slips out. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise your pretty face.”

You’re humiliated that he has this effect on you, the ability to obliterate all your filters and common sense just by existing. But the look on his face alleviates the want to jump out of the window – his mouth opens, twitching into the smallest, most bashful smile before it falls and morphs back into disbelief. You just… You just called his face pretty, a word that makes some feel emasculated but no, never with you. You compliment people and mean it, which makes Spencer’s guilt worsen and the urge to tell you he loves you with his entire heart more intense.

You speak at the same time.

“Why are you-“

“I wanted to-“

You roll your lips together, holding back a smile, and nod for him to go on. He does the same, so you shake your head with a, “I was just asking why you’re here.”

He holds up a finger, signalling one moment, and opens his satchel to start rummaging in it. “I know this is a complete invasion of privacy, and theft, really, but Morgan showed me it and I just- Why do you have this?”

You gasp.

In his hand is the journal you’ve been working on since a month into your employment at the BAU. The gifted notebook was initially used to jot down any bits of advice your superiors gave you (on your first day, Elle gave you a list she lovingly titled “If I wasn’t an FBI agent I’d sock these people in the mouths”) but, before you knew it, it had an entirely different purpose.

It started when you witnessed Derek stumble when asked Spencer’s favourite colour, to which he said no one remembers stuff like that! Aptly followed by Spencer reeling off everyone’s preferred colours (even delving into second favourites and favoured colour schemes) and you realised then that… Spencer’s whole life, he’s remembered so much about the people around him and very rarely have they returned the favour. So, in an attempt to build friendship and because you had the fattest crush on him already, you started the Spencer Reid cheat sheet.

You didn’t think he’d ever see it, even if it’s always used by the team on various occasions. It was the team’s little secret, bar Spencer, that assisted in nearly every decision made on Spencer’s behalf – what to order from restaurants, drinks, birthday and holiday gifts, how to comfort him when he’s stressed or upset.

The responses vary. Derek thinks it’s weird, as did Elle at first, but JJ and Garcia insist its sweet and, really, no matter what they think they’ve all come running to you when time has called for it.

“How… Did you steal it?”

“Yes,” He tells you, guiltily, “I had to read it – it’s incredibly accurate, by the way.”

You don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.

“So… Why?”

“I don’t know,” You say, a bold-faced lie and Spencer can tell, but he lets you continue, “You remember everything about everyone else, so I wanted to… do the same for you, I guess.”

“I have an eidetic memory.”

You airily laugh – does he think you forgot that? “I know that. Doesn’t it get tiring recalling all this information about your friends and not having it reciprocated?”

He clicks his tongue at that, eyes falling back to the notebook in his hands that he fiddles with while he thinks. It is tiring, he supposes, but that’s how it’s always been. He remembers everything, the people around him just… don’t. He realised at a young age that he’ll often have to remind himself that friendship isn’t measured by what they remember, but by other ways – like this. You, with your unassuming journal that is full of things Spencer assumed no one would ever care to remember.

You, with your tensed jaw and fluttering eyes because you’re embarrassed.

You, who’s done quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for him, and it’s been happening for years right under his nose.

You, who he cancelled a date with because he was so sure you were dating him out of pity, out of obligation after he asked and you felt forced to say yes, but now he realises you care about him just as much as he cares for you.

Touched feels like an understatement.

“Y/N…”

“If you find it weird, I’ll burn it the second we get home. Pretend it never happened, we can… discuss a restraining order if we must-“

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Oh.”

He smiles at you, hands tight on the book in his hands, smiles so big that his eyes crinkle and his teeth show and he looks gorgeous. It tugs directly on your heart strings and just for a second you forget that he cancelled your date, forget that you’ve been pining for years, and bask in the warmth that radiates from him.

“This is… Insane, really.” He laughs, “But also so… so cool. I don’t deserve this, at all, and to think we could’ve gone on a date but I chickened out-“

“What?”

He shrugs with faux-nonchalance. “The-um- the reason I took back the date was because I think you deserve so much better than me. In a, you deserve someone like all the police officers down at the PD, kind of way. I don’t want a pity date-“

You scoff, then with an indignant, “Come in here,” You grab Spencer’s satchel and tug him into your hotel room, closing the door with a forceful push as he turns to face you.

With your hands on your hips, you stare him down with furrowed brows and a look that screams really? “Is that really what you think, Spence? It was a pity date?”

“Well, yeah,” He tells you. The conviction in his voice is so strong that, if you weren’t this riled up, you’d probably tear up at how sure he sounds.

You give another scoff. “Not only am I offended you think I’d do that to anyone, but I’m also mad that you don’t see how I look at you! Spencer, I’ve been into you since I started working here-“ His mouth falls open. You’re exasperated. “-and the notes were a way to get to know you, yes, but they were also because I couldn’t stop watching you and had to play it off like I was doing it for a reason. You’re my favourite, Spencer.”

His heart aches a little, full of such a tenderness he’s never quite felt before. He feels loved, and so, so touched that someone would put so much effort into getting to know him and… years. Literal years you’ve liked him, and he’s been blind to it.

“I like you a lot.” You’re breathless after your little speech, “And if you still don’t want that date, that’s okay. But I like you, Spence, I really like you.”

Your gaze never wavers. Spencer wants to scoop you up and place kisses all over. For the first time in a while, he feels worthy. Like what you’re saying isn’t being said for the sake of it, because you’re his friend and you have to support him, but because it’s what you genuinely think and feel and Spencer might be in love.

He swallows deeply before speaking.

“I really like you, too, Y/N. And I’m-I’m sorry that I cancelled the date and- I should’ve talked to you, maybe, before doing it, but… We’re here now, right?”

“You want to have a date right now?”

Thumbing through the book, he says, “Actually, there’s some blanks in here I’d like to fill, if you’re not busy…”

You’re very clearly on board with the suggestion, basically skipping to your bed, plopping down and patting the space beside you with a grin. “I’m not busy at all, Doctor Reid. Tell me everything I don’t already know.”

So he does, thigh pressed against yours and blush on his cheeks when you let your head fall onto his shoulder.

The night is spent giggling over the most random information you’ve gathered, correcting only one mistake (his favourite socks change every week, not your fault), and adding onto the already plentiful fact file.

And the date that weekend happens, ending in a sweet kiss on your doorstep that leaves you both with shy smiles and thundering hearts.

It’s the first date of many, followed by the creation of a new journal full of all there is to know about your and Spencer’s relationship.

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @chiffonchronicles @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @jasongideonapologist @gublertoon @averyhotchner

[sluttyminghao]

testing his patience | j.ww

w.c: ~1.5k genre: hehe smut request - anon:  omg just had a thought... reader wearing a skirt with no panties sitting on wonwoos lap during a movie night with svt pairing: wonwoo x female reader a/n: this request....my god I have no words except I want this,,, also I kinda wanna write a part 2 to this? Let me know if you want me to!!

Every Friday night, you would pull up to the dorm where the seventeen members resided for your weekly movie night. Every week without fail, there was an argument over what kind of movie you guys would be watching, and every single week, the movie ended up being some weird action movie you had never heard of. 

However, you wanted to change that with this weeks movie night. You had had it planned out for the entire week, excitement growing in your stomach as the day grew closer. Your boyfriend Wonwoo, had been pestering you about it all week, texts about what genre the movie was, what you were going to wear etc etc.

What you didn’t tell him however, was that you had a special surprise planned just for him. You smirked as you pulled up to the driveway, pulling your skirt down a little further on your thighs. Wonwoo had never seen this skirt on you before, but you knew it would drive him crazy. 

Upon knocking on the door of the dorm, Jeonghan opened the door and gave you a beaming smile. You smiled back as he let you in, exchanging small talk with him as you walked down the hall towards the room where you would all be situated for the movie night. As you both entered through the doorway, a chorus of ‘hello’s’ and welcomes filled the room, saying your hello’s back to them. 

Your eyes scanned the room for your boyfriend, and when you finally found him, situated in a dark corner and covered with a blanket, he gave you a small wave and beckoned you over. Upon seeing your appearance closer to him, you noticed a darkness glaze over his eyes, before he raked his eyes up and down your body again before opening the blanket up and letting you sit next to him.

Perfect, your plan was starting to take effect.

You and Wonwoo had not been able to have sex much recently, mainly due to him being so busy with his schedules and upcoming promotions with the group. He always managed to make time for you though, texting you when he could through the day, sending photos and seeing you for your weekly movie night. Other than that, everything else had been lacking, and you were finally starting to feel the implications that came along with it.

You were so so needy, to the point of wanting to beg Wonwoo to take you right then and there under the blanket. You knew better then that however, which is why you planned to tease him under the blanket until he caved and fucks you senseless. This was also why you planned to not wear any underwear under your skirt.

You just hoped he was feeling the same way, and luckily for you, he was feeling the exact same.

“I picked the movie for tonight, I hope you guys don’t mind, I’ve wanted to watch this for a while”

Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow at your statement; normally you were just content with watching whatever the other members had picked, and it was unusual for you to be this direct with the group. He watched as you slowly got up, purposefully swaying your hips in his face to get a rise out of him. He sucked in a breath as you did so, his pants were going to start feeling really uncomfortable soon if you kept this up.

As you put the disc into the DVD player and the intro screen started up, you heard lots of groans and whispers, along with every single one of the boys gawking at you when you turned around. A blush had crept across your cheeks at this point, and you knew that Wonwoo was staring at you with a hard gaze that left arousal pooling between your legs and becoming slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh grow up, it’s just 50 Shades of Grey, you wont die from watching it”

Another chorus of moans and someone say “yeah but my dick might” sent you into a fit of laughter, hands grabbing your sides as you walked back to where you had been sitting before with Wonwoo. He eyed the skirt you were wearing again, before licking his lips and sinking his teeth into them, eyes grazing over your body for the nth time that night. 

When you reached your spot with Wonwoo, he all but yanked your arm down so that you were now situated on his lap rather than beside him, an arm snaking around your waist to keep you seated there. Some quizzical looks were seen from some around the room from the members, but you just smirked as you hit play on the movie.

About halfway through the movie, half of the group members had either fallen asleep or were so intrigued with the movie that they were sitting and watching slack-jawed, too interested to pull away. You had noticed that Wonwoo’s grip on your hips had tightened slightly, and could feel a slight bulge growing from underneath you. You turned towards him with a smile and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, him giving you a hard stare before pulling you in and whispering in your ear so no-one else could hear.

“What the fuck kind of game are you playing right now? Did you set this up?”

You just smirk and kiss him once more, giving him the confirmation that he needed. He slowly shifted one of his hands up your thighs, hands ghosting over where you wanted him so badly. You moved a hand down to sit on top of his hand, guiding him towards your naked core, where he hissed slightly at the contact of skin straight away.

“You dirty slut, you planned this all along”

He immediately placed a hand on your pussy, running two fingers through your soaking folds. You slapped a hand over your mouth as he found your clit and rubbed it harshly, trying to elicit a moan from you. His mouth found purchase on your neck, sucking a hickey into it lightly.

He was relentless in his torture, and only made it worse when he entered a finger into your entrance, causing you to let out a small whimper, and the remaining members who were awake turned to look at you curiously. You shot them a smile to let them know you were okay before they turned back to focus their attention on the movie. 

“That was a close one sweetheart, don’t want them to hear your pretty moans while im finger fucking you hm?”

His dirty talk was slowly sending you over the edge, you now rocking back onto his fingers as they continued their ministrations on your clit and in your entrance. He moved his lips back to your neck as he sucked another hickey into your neck, now trying to get you to cum all over his fingers. 

You were so, so close to going over the edge, you just needed one more push and you would be in euphoria. The euphoria finally hit you just as Wonwoo entered a second finger into your entrance as his other hand rubbed your clit, you slapping your hand over your mouth once more as you whimpered lightly, the feeling washing over you and stars dotting your vision.

Wonwoo lightly fingered you through your orgasm as you came down, shaking on his lap. A sigh left your lips as he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his pants, a small smirk present on his lips as he did so.

Suddenly, the lights had turned on and the other 12 members were looking at you both, some gawking and some smirking. Seungcheol was standing near the light, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked at u both.

“If you’re going to do that, can you at least move into a different room? There are still children present!”

He motioned to Seungkwan, Vernon and Chan who were all bright red on the cheeks, and Chan gawking at you. Vernon turned to him and gently pushed his jaw shut, before a flurry of conversations started as the movie had now ended.

“With pleasure”

A whisper in your ear made you shudder as Wonwoo stood up and pulled you after him, pulling your skirt down and grabbing your hand to take you to his room. Whistles and clapping were heard as you left, and Wonwoo just flipped them off before opening the door and practically shoving you inside.

“I think we need to finish what you started in there sweetheart”

His voice had dropped an octave and the lust was raging in his eyes. You knew you were going to be in for a long night ahead.

[buckys-black-dress]

✄ chapter two: keep it cool like iced tea

a/n: here's chapter two! obvi this is just building the plot and storyline, but we're seeing the beginnings of the magic! anyways, let me shut up so u can read. ok bye!

wc: 2k

[fratboy!bucky barnes x fem!reader]

series masterlist

-

To say you sucked at pong was a vast understatement.

And although you really didn't want to make a fool of yourself in front of this very nice, very tall, very attractive guy, you can't help but feel like an idiot when you sink your first shot into a cup halfway through the game.

You're definitely on your way drunk with the amount of shots Natasha and Sam have scored on you, plus all the ones you've missed.

When Natasha told you to let loose tonight, you're not so sure this is what she meant, though. You see her laughing and giving you eyes from across the table, while your face is bright red. You brush off her looks with a roll of your eyes, darting them back to Bucky.

Bucky.

Bucky with the incredibly nice hands and arms, who seems to be making the shots for the both of you. Bucky who's been occasionally slinging an arm over your shoulders, paying close attention to you. Bucky who's been asking you questions about yourself, that you've returned back, and received witty responses to.

"So, where 're ya from, Y/N?" He asks in a slurred voice, but you can tell he's not exactly drunk yet.

"I'm from New York. You?" You ask, throwing back another drink from a shot that Nat made into your cup.

"No shit! I'm from Brooklyn!" He smiles, a big, bright smile that tugs at your heartstrings for some reason.

"I'm Manhattan born and raised, mister." You return his blinding smile.

"Small world, huh?" He laughs, once again wrapping his arm around you. "Can't believe we've never ran into each other before."

"Well, New York City's quite large, Bucky." You giggle, and he laughs back. As you feel your face warm up, he looks down at you with something akin to adoration in his eyes. Bucky towers over you, deciding that the pong game was over between the four of you.

He walks back to the kitchen, assuming that you'd follow him.

But he turns around to ask you in you'd like something to drink, and you're not there.

You're still chatting with Natasha and Sam, and it takes him a second to realized you wouldn't just follow after him. You didn't really give him the impression of being that type of girl.

Which is what intrigued him more about you. You weren't worshipping the ground he walked on, you didn't initiate conversation too much, and you didn't drool over him like every other girl he's met.

He suddenly feels a surge of awkwardness. He sees you talking animatedly with Sam and Natasha, and now Steve has joined in the conversation. You were talking completely comfortably with them, much more comfortably than you were with him.

It makes him wonder what he'll have to do to get you to get like that with him.

What he'll have to do to make you trust him.

"Hey, Y/N, I was gonna head to the kitchen and grab a drink. Wanna join?" He questions, seeing his friends giving him cocked eyebrows in confusion.

Bucky could usually get any girl he wanted. Especially at a party like this one. Why was he so hell-bent on spending time with you?

"O-Oh! Sure, I'll join you." You excuse yourself from the group, and Bucky slings his arm through your waist to guide you through the crowd. You feel you stomach flip in a way you've never felt before, and feel your cheeks redden.

"So, what can I get you?" Bucky practically yells over the music, trying to meet your eyes. You avert them quickly, and simply tell him a vodka lemonade.

He hands it to you with a strange look in his eyes, and you give him a kind smile while taking your first sip.

"God, you trying to get me wasted here?" You gag with a laugh, looking into your cup and back to Bucky.

"Sorry, doll, might'a gone a bit heavy on the vodka. You still good to drink it?" He queries with genuine concern in his eyes.

And although you already well on your way to drunk, past tipsy, you give fervent nod, and give it another sip.

It was good.

-

As the night had progressed further, you had two more of Bucky's vodka lemonades.

And now, you were drunk.

You also didn't know where Natasha was, but she was probably off somewhere with Sam, so you weren't worried for her safety.

Bucky was still by your side throughout the whole night, offering to dance, and even just sit and talk.

Which is what you were doing right now. In the middle of the crowd, you were practically on top of Bucky while you two talked about anything from academics to your daily lives.

"So, in your major, what would you say was the dumbest thing someone's asked?" He laughs, and he's clearly also past the line of tipsy and has fallen into drunk, right with you.

"Uhhh... oh! One time, this guy-"

"Doll, I can't really hear ya." Bucky laughs

"Oh, sorry," You blush, trying to speak louder, but it still wasn't working.

"Do you- would you be okay with just goin' up to my room? Don't think we'll get much of anythin' done down here." He gives you a look that says 'I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you want me to.'

It sends a shiver down your spine, and you stand up, waiting for him to guide you up the stairs.

You knew you weren't going to have sex with him. You had only met him four hours ago, and no matter how many girls he could pull in that time, you were not interested in being one of them.

"Just so you know now, I'm not planning on sleeping with you." You burst out while you're halfway up the stairs, your eyes going wide at your own words.

"Huh," Bucky chuckles, "I know I have a reputation that precedes me, but I didn't think this is where that was going. Just wanted to continue to conversation." He smiles down at you, finally opening his door.

Of course, Bucky was lying right through his teeth. Of course he wanted to sleep with you. You were nice, smart, had a hell of a body, and had kept his attention the longest out of any girl he's ever met. But when it comes down to it, he was a boy.

And boys usually only thought with one organ; their dicks.

As the lamp flicks on, a small glow filters over the room, giving it a cozy feel. You, on the other hand, felt nothing but cozy.

"You can sit anywhere. Wanna watch somethin'?" He asks, tossing you the remote while you stood, frozen at the doorway.

"I- uh, sure?" You ask, more than you tell him, but sit down on his bed. You were careful to not flash him while you adjusted yourself, not sure of what to do.

The last thing you needed tonight was the most notorious playboy on campus seeing your black lace thong right now.

"Do you wanna change into somethin' more comfortable, angel?" Again, your stomach has butterflies trying to escape at his sweet words. But you knew better than to think too much into it. he probably said these names to every girl who's come into this very bed.

Ew, you think to yourself, this bed must have STDs sewn in the sheets by now.

"I- sure? If you have anything that fits, I guess." You grumble.

"Sure, I've got a t-shirt and boxers, if you want? Don't have much else, honestly." He laughs lightly, handing you the items and points to the bathroom in the corner of his room.

As you're standing in the middle of Bucky Barnes' jack and jill bathroom, you take a moment and think to yourself.

How did I get here?

Will he ask me to sleep here?

Does he still expect anything from me?

I hope not.

I'm really tired.

Ugh. Whatever. I'm too tired to think this much right now.

You pull of your dress that you couldn't stand to be in anymore, and put on the clothes Bucky had provided you with.

They were quite large on you, considering the guy was about the size of bigfoot. But you couldn't find it in yourself to complain about it right now.

You exit the bathroom, setting the dress down on the floor where you had kicked off your heels, and sit back down next to Bucky on his bed.

You feel your skin slide under the blanket that was thrown over him, and focus on the TV screen.

"So, what're we watching?" You query, trying to figure out what was playing.

Little did you know, Bucky was still thinking about the way you had looked when you walked out of the bathroom. It did something to him, seeing you in his clothes like that, for some reason.

The way you were practically swimming in them, and the way you knuckled at your eyes tiredly that made him want to hold you to his chest while you both fell asleep.

He was trying to shake the thoughts from his head, wondering what the hell had gotten into him with these thoughts.

Since when did he, Bucky Barnes, think about a girl like this? It was usually much dirtier and nastier in his head, but you were doing something to him.

"Bucky? Everything alright up there?" You giggle, knocking on his skull lightly.

"I- yeah, all good, doll." He shakes his thoughts away, focusing back on you. "I put on whatever was playing, didn't switch it because I didn't know what you liked." Bucky explains.

"Hm, well this seems good. We can just keep this on?" You suggest, realizing that Home Alone 2 was playing on his TV. "I love this movie. This kid's got some real class." You chuckle, now fully watching the movie.

"He's a genius, I'll give 'im that much." Bucky laughs, also fixing his gaze on the movie.

In the hour that passed, you two have made small talk about the movie here and there, and every time, Bucky's gaze became transfixed on you. With the glow of the TV illuminating your face, with the way you smiled and threw your head back when you laughed, he couldn't help it.

Finally, the movie had come to a close, and Bucky could tell you were fighting sleep. You were practically asleep sitting up against his headboard.

"You wanna spend the night here, doll?" He wonders out loud, looking over to you.

You shoot him a look, a playful glare with a hint of a smile.

"I mean, it's a bit late for me to head back to my dorm. But no funny business, mister." You point a finger at him, and Bucky holds his hands up in the air.

"No funny business, I promise." He holds out his pinky to you, to which you curl yours around, and latch on.

Once the lamp next to his side of the bed is turned off, you slide further down in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position. After a few minutes of adjusting, you snuggle your head into the pillows that smell like laundry detergent and his cologne.

"Goodnight, Bucky," you say out loud into the darkness while you both face each other.

"G'night doll. See ya in the morning." Bucky's voice is a low baritone, clearly about to succumb to the sleep he was fighting.

"See ya in the morning." You reply, finally letting your eyes fall shut.

That night, you dream of Bucky Barnes and his cologne.

And across from you, Bucky Barnes dreams of a world where this is normal. A world where you sleep next to him every night, and you wake him up every morning with a kiss.

Man, I'm totally fucked, is the last thought he has before falling into a sleep surrounded by you.

[please-buckme]

The View From The Fire Escape. (3/3)

Bucky Barnes x gn!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, fluff

A/n: WOW, keeping this gn!reader was so hard, especially when he talks to his therapist! :/ I hope you guys enjoyed it and I’d love your feed back on it! I also wrote this with a headache, so if it sucks im so sorry. Love you guys <3 thank you for the support.

Part 1 // Part 2

The days dragged on, your body aching from head to toe. Mostly from your job, you’d been working doubles to avoid any sort of interaction with Bucky. Only your lower back was sore from the ‘incident’, physically. Mentally you were hurt and confused.

Hurt because you didn’t understand. Why would he do such a thing? If there was something wrong, why didn’t he tell you before it got too far? And if he didn’t want you in that way, why lead you on like a fool? Some many questions ran through your mind that you wanted answers to. The problem was, you were sort of scared of Bucky now.

And you were confused because he never really made an effort to apologize. He said it on his way out of your apartment, but since then.. nothing. No call or a text, even though a text would’ve set you off; how cowardly. You find yourself daydreaming of him coming to your door, getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness. He hadn’t though. He smiles at you through his window kind of like he’s asking you to come to the fire escape, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You liked Bucky, you really did. After it happened, though, you realized you knew nothing about him. Sure, you know little things like his favorite beer and how self conscious he is sometimes, or how he changes the subject when you two start reminiscing on old times. The only thing you knew about his past is, he was a momma's boy, outgoing and he loved his best friend; he talked about him all the time.

That was it though. You felt like an open book to him and got nothing in return. You still didn’t know what happened to his arm; he wasn’t just born with a freaking metal arm. And you still had no idea why he lashed out at you.

The more you thought about it, though, the less you wanted to speak or even seen him again. You just wanted to become strangers to each other again, as if you aren’t already.

//

“Tell me what happened.” Bucky’s therapist was calm, even with all the tension coming from Bucky.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Then why are you here?” She raised an eyebrow in question.

“Because I have to be.” He answered bluntly.

“Is it the nightmares?” She asked with a sigh, getting tired of the game they play every time he has a session; it’s like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk.

“Not really. I mean, they’re part of it but no.”

His therapist leans in slowly, worry spreading across her face, “Tell me what’s going on, Bucky.”

Bucky groans, “I think- I think I’m falling for someone.” He readjusts, now feeling exposed and a little vulnerable.

“That’s good, isn't it?”

“It was.. until I fucked it all up.” He runs both hands through his hair. “That’s all I’m good at, fucking up every good thing that comes my way.”

“Breathe and tell me what happened.” She clicks her pen and settles into her chair as she waits for Bucky to speak.

“The notebook? Come on, I’m cooperating.”

“I’m just going to write down their name and anything that may come off alarming. It’s your first relationship since the 1940’s and since being the Winter Soldier. I’m hoping what you’re going to tell me isn’t as bad as I think it is.” She sighs again, flipping open the notebook now. “Did you hurt them?”

“No.. well-“

“Well?” She asks. Bucky hears her breath hitch and he hates it. She knows he’s a killer. She knows he can kill someone with his bare hands and not even flinch, because he has. He isn’t that guy anymore, though and he wants to prove it. Has to prove it. If not to her or y/n then to himself.

“We were.. ya know, well not exactly. I mean we were about to and I might have, accidentally, lashed out. It’s all a blur now. All I know is, one minute they were there on top of me and then on the floor. I guess I have a trigger when someone holds me down.”

“So you had a panic attack?” She’s now writing.

“Yeah..”

“And then what happened?”

“Could you stop writing, please. I can hear the scribbling as if you’re etching something into my skull. It’s very annoying.”

“Stay on topic. What’d you do after saying them on the floor?”

“I left, okay? I apologized and I left.” He stands from his seated position and paces the floors of her office.

“When did all this happen?”

“Two weeks ago today.” He runs his hands over his face in frustration and exhaustion. Since that day the nightmares were on overdrive. As if his mind stores special, horrible memories just to torcher him.

He sees y/n time to time through their windows but that’s it. No more friendly chats to help him through his darkest nights. No more y/n and that heavenly smile even on a long day's night.

Everything is just as it was before. Just Bucky and his thoughts, a dangerous combination. His eyes well up with tears, the feeling of loneliness taking over his entire body.

“Earth to Bucky?” The therapist shouts, snapping her fingers.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’d seen this person since that day.” She reiterated.

“Oh.. uh, no. I mean, yes. I see them but we haven’t spoken.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I’m scared. I don’t want them to look at me like I’m a monster. I’m not who I used to be I- I’m good now. I just want them to see that.” A tear threatens to fall before he wipes it away on the back of his gloved hand. “I want to be a good person.”

The woman sighs and stands from her chair. She walks over to Bucky, tapping him on the shoulder until he turns around.

“If you really like this person, talk to them. It’s the only way to get through this. If they really like you, they’ll be patient and understanding. You’ll never know how they truly feel until you talk to them face-to-face. Our times up. Go.”

//

It was Thursday and it just so happens to be your first day off in two weeks. You’d plan to do nothing but sleep and watch awful rom coms in between the sleeping portion of the day. It was around 5pm. The sun was setting and you were on rom com number three; ‘Definitely, maybe’. You were close to tears when the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” You holler from the couch.

“It’s.. uh, it’s me, Bucky.” He could hear your heart pounding in your chest. This was a mistake. You were already frightened and you hadn’t even opened the door yet.

“Oh, I don’t think-“

“You don’t have to let me in,” he assured you. “Just.. listen or don’t. It’s totally up to you.” He waited for a response, but when you said nothing he took that as a ‘I’m listening’ and continued, “I fucked up, y/n. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I did, but I swear to god if I could I would. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for the rest of your life, but you gotta know something. I really like you. I’m over the moon for you. I can’t stop thinking about you and your beautiful smile or how gentle and patient you are with people and not just me.

“You’ve never asked me about my past or where I come from. You’ve always liked me for me, who I am right now. I’ll never find anyone who sees me for me the way you do and I’ll do anything. Anything. To get your trust back. Just give me another chance, please.”

You stared at the door, speechless. The desperation in his voice is tearing you apart. He hadn’t explained what actually happened, but you know in time he will. There were many things you needed to talk about, but for right now all you wanted was him.

He stood at your door leaning his forehead against it in defeat. He knows you're still there but couldn’t be sure if you were actually listening or if you were still nervous with his presents in your doorway. He bit his lip as he waited for any sort of movement or noise, other than your heart beat.

He sighs in defeat, “okay, I’ll go.”

“Bucky wait..” you say, seeing him halfway down the hall. “I hear what you’re saying and you’re right, I do like you for who you are. But I need to know about your past and why in the world you have a metal arm.” You huff out a laugh, “You can’t hide who you were just because you’re ashamed. I want to be your rock, I want to be the person you come to after every nightmare. I want all of you, including your past.”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” Bucky’s inches away from you now, taking your right hand into his metal one. “I want you to be my future and if that means showing you my past, so be it.”

You smile up at him and let out a sigh of relief, “god, I missed you.”

Bucky kisses you gently, running his flesh hand through your hair. “I missed you too.” He said, never leaving your lips. “I was also the Winter Soldier.”

“WHAT?”

Fin

//

Masterlist

Taglist: @haydens-moles @valkyrieofthehighfae @aurora-sweet @hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles @sebbystanlover-vk @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @nebulastarr @meegggoooo @skylerrae-solo @wintersoldiersthings @blondekel77 @gogolucky13 @buckysm3talarm @heavenlyseb @writersbuck @badassbuchanan @buckyownsmylife @buckysdolls @notwithoutbarnes @cherryblossomskye @ladyfallonavenger @drinkfantasy @tonystankschild @tfandtws @osterfieldshollandgirl

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh IWA ROUTE

a/n: uwuwuwuwuwu my mans iwa chan :’)

IM A SIMP FOR IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

uwu filo!iwa in this :)

and also, listen to lauv while reading this since i wrote this and that song was playing on repeat O_O and also this song

this is my self-request uwu

HES SUCH A POUTY BABIE BLS LOVE ON HIM

onwards we goooo

hihihihihihi yey im so excited for this yall dont even know

ANYWAYS

so,,,,

when iwa first saw you, he thought you were just a cute little thing

your shorter height, your puffy cheeks, and the wide eyes you had whenever you saw someone, or him, do a really cool spiking move

he initially thought of you as a cute little sister hes never had

ehehe that finna change

then the,,,, bullying thing happened

if youd like to read this part, its right here

when he saw you bloodied, all battered,

dear lordie he was finna break some ankles

ONG I WAS JUST TALKING ABOUT SANGWOO YET HERE I AM

like that image of you will probably stay in his memory until he dies of the ripe age of 200

ngl it kinda traumatized him a little bit of how tired and pained you look with the tears rolling down your face and the blood that was escaping your body through your wounds

god you didnt deserve any of that

you deserved the world and the universe yet some people dared to take away your worth

ooo he was so mad

miyo was,,,, hurt??

can i say that??

i dont wanna,,,, explain bara arms iwa hurting a girl so youre gonna have to imagine that for yourselves

but at the end when they said slap, he didnt just ✨S L A P ✨ her

he ✨ B R O K E   S O M E   A N K L E S ✨

oiks is actually scared of him after that

like oiks had to peel him off of her and towards the infirmary where you and the team were

‘IWAIZUMI HAJIME, STOP!’

oof the first and last time oikawa tooru ever said that full name

he was breathing heavy and he was so ✨ A N G R Y ✨ with what she did to you yet he hears your soft scoldings, telling him off for hurting a girl

he wanted to see you

like right now

iwa tore himself from oikawa’s grasp and ✨ N Y O O M E D ✨ himself to the nurse’s office

there, you sat on the bed with the others scattered either on other beds or on the floor 

you smiled at the sight of him and he walked towards you and engulfed you in his arms

‘youre okay now. im here’

he whispered and you buried your face into his chest, breathing in his unique scent

lavender mixed with peppermint

he refused to leave your side so he ✨ M A D E ✨ some room on the bed beside you to sit and he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close

you held his hand while oikawa talked to you and as you shamefully bowed your head

but you were forgiven and everything was all good until the third years really got into plan

makki and mattsun promised to handle it all as they had family in the justice field while oikawa would go and get the girl suspended

‘but what about me?! i want-’

‘iwaizumi, you literally hit her. it’d be best if you’re not involved right now as you were the only one who physically touched her in a harmful manner like that’

ong when it come to y/n, the meme team is replaced by the assassin team

he tried to fight but in the end, 3 overpowered 1 and he was forced to sit back and opted to comfort you instead

he made sure you were safe to walk home but that day, you were the one who asked him to spend time with him

just you two

like after seeing him seethingly enter back into the room, you reached out and held his hand in yours, eyes trained on your fingers fiddling with his

‘iwa-san,,,, you said you downloaded the new godzilla movie?’

you whispered but he could still hear you and his heart swelled at your meek voice

‘yea, i did. and my mom bought those chips you like’

your eyes flitted up to meet his eyes and a soft smile spread on your lips and there was this thumping in his heart

maybe that was the first time that iwaizumi hajime felt differently towards you

a smile that seemed to be differently perceived than the rest

and it wasnt for the whole team

it was for him

and him alone

the trek to his house was quiet but you would hum nursery rhymes or the songs you heard earlier in the radio while skipping every few steps and tightly holding on to his hand

iwaizumi’s olive eyes watched you still radiate energy despite being so hurt for a long time

they then trailed to your linked hands and he unintentionally squeezed it, only figuring out he did it when you looked up to him and squeezed it back with a smile

he wanted to do something to make you forget of what happened

he didnt want you to think about the cruelty and pain so he was going to make sure you would continue smiling 

thankfully, his parents werent home so he wouldnt have to explain why he has a bandage-covered girl with him 

iwa led you upstairs to where his room was and your eyes widened when you saw what was inside

tiny action figurines of animes like bakugo from boku no hero academia or a tiny pikachu on his desk

there was a large country flag that you didnt recognize and a few godzilla posters and volleyball players decorating beside it

however, besides those normal things you wouldve expected,

there were many polaroids

polaroid pictures that were everywhere with no specific layout pattern and just placed anywhere that had room

iwa watched as you dazedly walked forward and entered the room to move towards the wall by his desk that had the most pictures against it

from pictures of him and oikawa to the third years to him and his parents or just the sunrise and human silhouettes

your fingers reached forward and traced the picture of him and the third years when they were still first years and took a spontaneous trip to the beach

‘mattsun stole his dad’s car and drove us to the beach without a license’

iwaizumi’s voice answered your questions and you looked back, shimmering eyes

this room,,, wasnt just a normal, teenage boy’s room

this was a room that represented iwaizumi hajime

from his natural character description like his love for volleyball evident in the volleyball player posters to the underneath description that was hidden like his love for godzilla and his love of taking pictures of the people he cares about the most

it was all that made up iwaizumi hajime

your feet took you to stand in front of him, still standing at the doorway, and you stood on your toes to try and be eye-level with him

‘youre really cool, iwa-san’

you whispered and his ears turned red, not from the compliment, but by the close distance between you two

iwa clearedhis throat and ruffled your hair roughly, pushing you down slightly back to the balls of your feet

‘i already knew that, brat. now go and sit over there and be comfortable or whatever while i go get the food’

he hurriedly turned to hide his growing red face but you stopped him

‘iwa-san,,, ano,,, can,, i borrow a hoodie?’

you mumbled, nervously thinking he might refuse 

but he grunted a response, not bothering to turn around

‘take your pick’

you smiled and thanked him before bounding over to the wardrobe that was pushed against the wall across his bed that was against the corner by his window

inside had so many hoodies and there were also shirts that were hung up on the other half

they were all graphic tees that either had american bands or anime or game references

opting for a mint green hoodie that says ‘SONIC NYOOM’, you had an undershirt under your button up and as you slipped the bloodied long sleeve off, he swung the door open, eyes focused on the tray of coke filled glasses

then he looked up and almost dropped it at the sight of you,,, like that

‘OH MY GOD SORRY’

he shrieked and carefully but hurriedly backtracked back to the hallway

ofc you were shocked too but you quickly put the hoodie on and went to get him

iwaizumi’s heart was hammering in his chest and he was VERY red with embarrassment 

how could he see you like that?!

a girl who wasnt his shouldnt be seen like that by his eyes!

a touch on his arm reminded him of his position and he was still holding the tray but it was clear from the liquid in the cups that he was shaking slightly

‘iwa-san, its okay. i still had a shirt on so dont misunderstand’

you reasoned and he nodded, still not looking at you

the beginning of the movie was quite awkward as you both were sitting next to each other on the floor, backs against his mattress while the laptop played godzilla in front of yall

but it seems it was just him who was feeling this way bc you were intrigued at this weird monster that was squshing building under its foot and you continued munching on the food

iwa stood up and coughed

‘im going to take a shower’

you paused it and stared up at him, a chip halfway in your mouth

‘oh? you want me to wait for you?’

he agressively shook his head

‘no! its okay i watched it already. just,,,, watch it’

at the end, his words came out jumbled in his hurry to go and calm his heart down

you shrugged and unpaused the movie to continue watching

iwa spent his time in the shower, thinking and trying to think of stupid thoughts like the time oikawa almost choked on a peanut when they were in middle school to distract him of thoughts of how adorable you were

ONG HE WAS JUST SHOWERING AND INNOCENTLY DOING SHOWER THINGS

‘no, i said she was like a sister to me. and a sister she’ll remain’

okay ngl even though theyre not related, im worried yall would be like ‘iNcESt’ but bls a lot of people have tried to sibling-zoned people yet realized they liked them in THAT way

as he wrapped himself with a towel, he then realized

oh my god he didnt bring clothes

LMAO NOOOO IWAAAAA

iwa frantically looked around and he saw his mother’s sakura themed robe and he paused, arguing silently with him if he should wear it

well, it was either that or he went back into the room and showed you,,,,,, this

sucking in a sharp breath, he kept the towel around his waist and slipped his arms through the tight arm holes and he awkwardly tried to keep it tied since he was so much bigger than his tiny mom

what is happening

you saw the door opening and excitedly turned to tell him about this one scene when your voice died down in your throat at the sight of him 

here was iwaizumi hajime, ultra muscle buff man who gets abs with a simple glance of the gym, wearing an all too-tight pink, cherry blossom print robe that was so tight the tie around it was shaking to keep it together

‘dont’

he whispered and that snapped your remaining surprise to double over in laughter

‘its so cute! iwa-san, youre so cute!’

you shrieked and he growled and hurriedly went to to grab grey sweatpants and a shirt before running straight back to the bathroom

when he finally came back out, his face was still red and he was pouting as he sat next to you back to his seat

he could feel you staring at him while looking constipated as you held your laugh in and the second your eyes met, your giggles fell out

iwa rolled his eyes

‘yes yes let it out’

‘hehe, iwa-san, i didnt know you had that style’

‘it isnt! i didnt want to walk in here practically naked with you in the room!’

he growled and you nodded, still not quite believing it

‘hai hai. just say you like pink, i wont tell’

you waved and iwa felt offended

‘what do you mean ‘hai hai’?! its really not!’

your lips pursed to keep more giggles in and iwa growled again before lunging to grab your sides and tickling you 

of course being careful to not touch your wounds

you shrieked at the ticklish feeling and iwa laughed as you made weak attempts to push him off

‘huh? what was that? whatd you say? cant talk anymore, can ya?’

he teased

‘NO!!!! IWA-SAAAAN!!!!!’

you shouted in between your laughter and he finally let up when you squealed out your apologies and promised to never say it again

you breathed air into your lungs and sat back up to recollect yourselves 

iwa saw the strands that escaped your bun and they were scattered everywhere looking messy with your flushed cheeks and teary eyes

oh my god you were beautiful

he was so happy that you still kept that smile despite what happened and he was going to fight to keep it there

forever

it was about nearly the end when you finally realized how different iwaizumi’s hair looked

‘oi, iwa-san, your hair is not naturally spiky?’

he continued eating the chips while still watching the movie

‘what would you expect? even shittykawa’s hair is like this. did ya know that he wakes up extra early to curl it into that shitty mess?’

your jaw dropped

‘EEEHHHH???!!!!!!!’

later, you asked him how he does his hair for school and he blindly reached for the gel that was resting on his desk before tossing it to you

‘here’

you looked at it and flickered over to his hair and then you had the greatest realization

‘GODZILLA-SAMA!’

you pointed and he stopped eating, turning to give you a confused look

‘ha?’

you shrieked in an another round of laughter

‘IWA-SAN LIKES GODZILLA-SAMA SO MUCH HE DOES HIS HAIR AFTER HIM!!!!’

you doubled over to the floor, clutching your stomach and iwaizumi’s flustered expression made you laugh harder

he knew you were smart but,,, not this smart

you figured out his secret

the secret he’s hidden since he was practically a toddler

even his best friend, the guy hes known since he was born, never made the connection

yet here you are, figuring it out not even a year of knowing him

was this part of the many reasons he,, felt his heart beat for you?

oikawa was relieved that you had the bright twinkle in your eyes the next time he saw you and you were actively talking to iwaizumi in that early morning practice

‘oh? y/n-chan, is iwa-chan your best friend now?’

he tried not to sound jealous for his own best friend’s closeness to you and he added a teasing smile for extra measure

okay that hurted me a bit

iwaizumi snarled and blasted the volleyball towards his face before he could even yell or shout

‘iwa-san, dont do that’

you chided softly, small hands wrapping around his muscly arm

but iwa patted your head

‘deserving people deserve things to happen to them’

you rolled your eyes but smiled at him

‘hai hai’

the next week, iwa still kept a close eye on you in case someone else decided to mess with you 

but you told him that you swear youd tell him if someone did and he trusts you so he backed off a little

one day, he was eating lunch with the other third years in their classroom when you busted through the door, excitedly holding your phone

‘iwa-san! i figured out what country your flag was!’

he was halfway of shoving rice in his mouth when iwa looked at you

‘oh? you couldve just asked me though?’

you pouted and went to pull a chair from another desk to sit beside him

‘nooo. i wanted to work for that information. so you’re from the philippines, iwa-san?’

he nodded proudly

‘yep’

your eyes shone with interest

‘really?! you look japanese so it must be one of your parents. hey, iwa-san, which island are you from? i read about them and they have like 7641 islands-’

the others watched as you read through the article in your phone and iwa wasnt even following your words, instead staring at you with a dazed look and a lovesick smile

mattsun, makki, and oikawa exchanged looks of surprise because in all the years theyve known him especially oikawa, iwa was never interested in girls and such

he was a straight forward man with goals and straight sight to get them done with no distractions like relationships or love

yet here he was

slowly falling in love with you without even knowing he is

he continued to fall with the simplest things about you

from the perfume that you wore everyday to the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear when you were talking to someone

little quirks he used to miss was now being noticed even if you were right behind him and not in his line of vision

now, the boys were starting to see the difference of their precious ace

it was as if when he started to like you, they knew immediately by how he was acting

then one day during practice, you were late and they were all looking around for you and when they couldnt find you, they met back in the gym with nervous looks

iwa was already pacing around, a scary aura radiating off of him, and kindaichi, who went with him to look around the school, warned the others of iwaizumi’s worry

‘he was slamming doors open and he was walking so fast i had to run to even keep up with him’

then you busted through the gym door

you were actually picking up food for the team and sweets and you were held up when makki’s puffs were still being cooked

they rallied around you to make sure you werent hurt and you assured them but iwa pulled them away like picked them up and threw them off to the side and took you in his arms

iwa thought you were hurt and he was so worried something happened to you again

the hug was bone-crushing with how hard he was squeezing you but you felt his worry though and you freed your arms to wrap them around his neck

‘im okay, iwa-san’

you whispered in his ear and he nodded

‘let me hold you for a second’

he mumbled and you nodded

‘oi, theres food in the bags so make sure you eat it all. coach paid for it all so dont leave behind anything’

the mention of the food distracted them from you and iwa and they piled on top of each other to reach their food first

iwa was grateful that you distracted the others from seeing him being vulnerable towards you

‘i thought-’

‘shh,,, you have me right here, right now. safe and sound’

you knew how much seeing you all battered messed him up and his attempt of making you forget about it has been

and his worry of you being gone without no sign of where you went will forever be there and he will always have that thought in the back ofhis mind

the next time you came over, you actually met his parents

since you went home early before, you didnt catch his parents when they came home around 10 minutes after you left

but this time, they were already home with his mom cooking dinner while his father was sitting on the dining chair reading a newspaper

iwa walked through the door, shouting he was home, and you did the same thing to be customary

oof his parents were surprised

his mom turned around to share a look of surprise with her husband

sure they havent seen tooru in a while but they were pretty sure his voice wasnt that high pitched

right?

‘hajime, did you hit tooru so much you ruined his-’

then his mother stopped talking at the sight of you holding iwa’s hand tightly when yall stepped around the corner

you sheepishly smiled at them and bowed your head in greeting

oh my

so this was why iwaizumi hajime-san was really really really handsome

his parents were freaking good looking

like his mother was aphrodite with her flawless melanin skin and doe shaped eyes with a mole under her left eye

and his father was like ares, so handsome yet still manly and his appearance was a special type of good-looking with his buffness and ruffed appearance

‘iwa-san, i didnt know your parents were gods’

you mumbled, still staring at them

iwaizumi choked and coughed, flustered

‘oh my!’

his mother placed a hand over her mouth

‘hello’

his father stood up to walk in front of you and held his hand out

‘i’m hajime’s father’

you let go of hajime’s hand to shake his own with both of your hands

‘really nice to meet you! i’m l/n y/n! seijoh volleyball manager! first year!’

you introduced then stepped aside to fully bow 90 degrees

iwaizumi thought it was so cute of how flustered you were at meeting his parents

‘ay nako! nak, i didnt know you had such a beautiful girlfriend!’

she squealed and hurriedly went to stand in front of you and gently grasped your arms to stand you back straight and took a good look at you

‘youre so beautiful, iha. nice skin, pretty eyes, ang ganda!’

even with your research of tagalog, you didnt quite understand what she was saying

iwa noticed your slightly confused expression and he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets

‘sorry, my nay speaks in taganese when she gets excited’

‘t-taganese?’

‘tagalog and japanese’

you nodded in understanding

it was time to put your basic reserach to test

‘hello po’

you greeted her and nervously took her hand and pressed the back of it to your forehead before slowly lowering it down and letting go

her wide eyes made you think you did something bad or even offensive!

‘i-i’

‘HAY NAKO, HAJIMEE~!’

she shrieked 

‘YUNG-!!! YUNG-!!!’

okay im terrified

iwa noticed his mother’s malfunction and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder and veered her back to her kitchen

‘sorry about her, l/n-chan. its just,,,, hajime hasnt brought home a girl before. and you doing that mustve done it in for her’

you worriedly watched hajime calm his mom down with a smile and talking to her hushed

in their perspective,,,

‘shes so nice, nak! marry her, okay? shes very pretty and she made an effort to please your nanay, so go and marry her!’

ohmylord im nervous

initially, iwa only wanted to go and hang out with you and watch a movie

not have a full dinner with his family

lmao i shouldve told you that youve been friends for months now

his mother cooked sinigang and adobo and more filipino dishes, adding even more when she saw you were joining them

the dining table was covered with a large plate full of food and you were so fascinated because this was a side of iwa that you wanted to know more about

‘wow!’

you said, not thinking, at the deep-fried fish that still had its eyeballs intact

iwa genuinely thought you would’ve shyed away from it in disgust but your eyes were glistening with genuine interest

‘iwa-san! youre so lucky you get to eat this stuff!’

you told him, looking over at his direction

while mrs iwaizumi was lading in the soup into the big bowl, mr iwaizumi was sitting at the dining table, watching your interaction and hajime telling you what each food was and your noises of surprise

he watched his son laugh when you said the palabok reminded you of the orange boy hinata 

and he also watched his son look at you so lovestruck and exactly like how he looks at his wife

soon, his mother finished and they rounded the table before saying a quick prayer to bless the food and digging in

‘so, what do you want to start with, iha?’

mrs iwaizumi asked and your wide eyes looked around

‘hm, im not sure. whats your favorite iwa-san?’

you looked to your right towards hajime who was busy eating and stopped before pointing his lips towards a direction

‘that one’

‘hah?’

you asked 

mrs iwaizumi laughed at her son’s actions

‘sorry, l/n-chan, my son has adapted my traits. he was pointing to this, adobo. do you want some?’

‘yes please’

the smell made your mouth water and you started to tuck in

maybe it was your managerial instincts, but you used your napkin to wipe hajime’s lips and he was also used to this and turned his head to make it easier for you then he went to grab the water jug and re-fill your glass

once it was done, you both silently went back to eating

his parents watched his exchange and it was like watching a married couple taking care of each other

‘so, l/n-chan, you said you were their manager’

mr iwaizumi started and you nodded, wiping your lips

‘yes. i have been for a while now and please, call me y/n’

‘hajime actually told us he had a new manager for his team and tooru told us too. but we didnt know you were a girl. its just so interesting for hajime to bring you home as he has never really had any female friends’

mrs iwaizumi’s comment made you chuckle and iwa’s eyes widened in embarassment

‘nay! of course ive had female friends! ive had friends from all genders!’

he reasoned but you teasingly smiled at him

‘ah, im not really surprised. iwa-san doesnt exactly have the appearance that girls are brave enough to approach’

he sent you a betrayed glance

‘hah?! what’s that supposed to mean?!’

you shrugged, going back to your food

‘im just saying that you always have this intense look in your eyes and youre always frowning. but its cute so its fine. and besides, i dont think theyve seen you laugh since you dont really smile a lot, iwa-san’

‘but you’ve seen me smile!’

‘eung. but its only to me. if they knew the stuff i knew like you being a godzilla fan or your collection of succelents, theyd see you like oikawa-san’

‘HAH?! YOU SEE ME LIKE SHITTYKAWA?!’

mrs iwaizumi held her husband’s hand on the table as they watched you both bicker and tease each other with a smile

hajime has always been on the rougher side of things and he doesnt really have many close friends other than the team and even then, tooru is the only one he can really be himself around

yet here you are, bringing out the boy hajime really is and making him laugh, a sound his parents dont really hear outside the house

and your eyes

god, your eyes held admiration, life,,,, and you might not know this yet,, but love

her eyes trailed her son who teasingly headbutted you and you faking a surprise and doing the same

then you heard his father’s cough which brought you back to where you were and the situation and the people that were there

you felt embarrassment creeping up inside you and you bowed

‘im sorry for acting like that, iwaizumi-san. i-’

‘no, dont apologize, darling. please, dont’

her soft smile made the nerves in you ease and hajime’s father winked at him and he knew exactly what his father was trying to say

after dinner, you volunteered to wash the plates but they veered you away from there and towards the living room 

‘oh my god, pops! stop her!’

hajime whined because he knows what his mother was going to do

she was going to show him his baby pictures

you sat on the beige couch and watched as she reached under the coffee table and revealed a few albums that had iwaizumi hajime written on the cover

‘now, y/n-chan, hajime wasnt always this pouty. in fact, he used to always have a smile on his face and laughed at the littlest things! like right here! a leaf fell on him and he-’

stories of his childhood was exchanged throughout the night and you were laughing so hard that tears were falling out of your eyes while hajime wrapped your shoulders with his arm and he would squeeze you tightly whenever you made fun of him

‘oh dear! iwa-san! you-!’

you didnt finished as you continued to laugh and he sighed

‘nay, can we go eat dessert now?’

he asked his mother and she was beginning to feel sorry for him so she smiled and nodded

‘okay. hajime, come help me’

‘iwaizumi-san, i can-’

‘no, y/n-chan. dont you worry your pretty little head about anything and just look through more of these pictures’

hajime followed his mother to their kitchen before she stopped and turned around

his mother’s height was around 5′1 so she had to look up to meet his eyes and her hands were clasped around his biceps

she is definitely beautiful and he cursed at how little he got from his mother other than her skin color

mrs iwaizumi married her husband and immigrated to japan to have a family and your polite action from earlier moved her as she hasnt experienced that in nearly 2 decades

‘nay, shes,,,, just a friend’

he reasoned, a wobbly smile to cover up his want for that title to change

yet mothers def knows best and saw right through it

she gave him a firm look with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips

‘nak, dont lie to yourself. i raised you to never tell a lie and lying to yourself is considered lying to someone. she’s not your KAibigan, shes your kaIBIGan’

now, hajime knew a little bit of tagalog as his mother made sure he was able to at least speak to his relatives back home

so he got a hint of what she was saying yet was confused 

then he realized it

his blush creeped up his neck and he chuckled, ducking his head low to avoid his mother’s eyes

‘nak, listen to me. papunta ka pa lang, pabalik na ako. youre still growing and you may be confused right now, but make sure to think wisely and dont live with regrets. nanay doesnt want you to go through it all by yourself since she knows how hard it was. so please, listen to me and pursue her. shes special, hajime. she makes you so, so happy. i see it in your eyes, her eyes, god has fated you together. i feel it’

now if a filipino mother actually tells their son to go after a girl, thats a pretty big thing as its known that mothers are the hardest to convince and are fiercely protective of their sons, especially if its an only son, but mrs iwaizumi literally tells hajime to go court you because she sees how happy you make him and is willing to let hajime go to you 

definitely his mother’s words stuck to him and as he walked you home, he was busy thinking that he was quiet and you were worried as he would be talking right now

‘iwa-san? you okay?’

you asked and he blinked, taken back to reality from his daydream

‘hm, yea’

he answered to look at you

hes been pining for months now and he slipped his hand into yours, holding it tightly

uwu if you want to see iwa moments with y/n, read through the seijoh manager series as theres a lot of them in there

he wanted you yet, he knew it would be selfish of him to keep you in the future

he would be a college student while you’re in your 2nd year

would you want to be so far away from him?

could you handle it?

‘yanno, iwa-san, your dad told me something interesting’

you suddenly said, squeezing his hand and kicking rocks while looking up at the night sky

‘what was it? something embarrassing?’

he immediately feared that they told you that story when he was still potty training and he fell straight into the toilet 

‘hmm,,, no. he told me that he met your nanay when she was a high school student and he was a in an intern at your lolo’s company’

iwa listened and he had a smile at how you said the tagalog word for grandfather

‘he said she almost ran him over by her bike and she fled but they met again when she visited your lolo. through that, they became friends and then she confessed to him. apparently, he declined because she was younger than him, although just 3 years, and he was leaving for his own country in a few months so he didnt know if she would wait for him’

were,,,, you reading his mind?

iwa knew of his parents story yet with you telling it, it sounded a million times more interesting

‘yet she promised him. thats it, just a promise. that she would remain faithful to him, she would keep herself for him and when she finally graduates, she would go and find him and they could be happy together. he said it was the longest 3 years of his life yet when he saw in the airport, he felt like the wait was worth it. because he gets to hold the embodiment of happiness in his arms for the rest of his life’

you finished and he hummed

‘times have changed, y/n’

‘even you?’

you stopped walking and he naturally stopped too

‘would you wait for me like he did if i promised myself to you? if i promised you that despite the few years of waiting, i would still be yours and remain yours until we’re ready to be together?’

WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!!!!!

iwa’s heart was drumming in his chest and he wanted so desparately to look at you in the eyes but you were making that impossible as your head was bowed and your eyes were fixed on the concrete you both stood on

‘of course, i would’

your head snapped up and e/c clashed with olive eyes 

‘i would wait for you. we may,,, be young right now. and they might think we’re,,, being impulsive. but i dont care. because right now, all that matters, is you and me. we can think about the consequences later, but right now, i just want to kiss you’

he admitted, red ears seen by the moonlight

your body shook

‘do it, no balls’

well,,,, he has the balls

and under the moon, at 8:34 pm, iwaizumi hajime kissed you

OML THIS REMINDS ME OF THAT SEIJOH SHORT WHEN HE WAS TALKING TO OIKAWA AND HIS NEIGHBORS ARE LIKE ‘AH SHITE HERE WE GO AGAIN’

it didnt come as a surprise to the team when yall announced your relationship

well,, you both actually didnt tell them outright until like weeks later

what can you say?

you and iwa are very private people and you dont really like to show off in public

even though yall lit rally are stuck to the hip and he does things that he doesnt even think hes doing but he is totally doing

you were only caught by,,, guess who

mrs iwaizumi

it was weeks when she met up with mrs oikawa bc theyre totally best friends and thats why their sons are best friends

she told her of her son’s girlfriend and how sweet you were and how mrs oikawa should be jealous that her son doesnt have a girlfriend like that and the standards for oikawa’s future girlfriend was raised just by that teasing

oikawa literally came into after school practice after a phone call with his mother, fuming

you were talking to kindaichi and yahaba with iwa beside you, arm around your waist totally not obvious guys

and yall just saw an angry oikawa stomping towards yall

‘y/n-chan, iwa-chan, why the hell did my mom just call me and tell me that im not allowed to bring home a girl if she doesnt have h/c with s/c (skin color) and e/c and h/m (height measurement)?’

you shrugged

‘oikawa-san, i’ve never even met your mom before’

but iwa had a hunch

‘ahh,,,, my mom mustve been bragging to your mom. yanno how they are’

oikawa shot him a disbelieving look

‘IWA-CHAN! ITS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND I DONT! BUT ITS WORSE THAT YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS AFFECTING MY FUTURE ONE!’

he ranted, completely unaware that he just outed your entire relationship to the team

tbh they werent even surprised

like they were all ‘damn now shes taken. but cant say i didnt see that coming’

they took it pretty well too

they know how iwa is and they literally respect this mans and if anything, out of the whole team, he is the best candidate for your boyfriend

dating iwa is totally normal and yall just have increased touches?? like i dont know how to explain like he’s constantly holding your hand or arm around your waist or shoulder etc

literally nothing changed

you still have dinners at his house and iwa also knows your family and all that

and the most important thing is,

he kept that promise

even when he was literally at the other side of the world,

he still remained yours and you kept your own promise and waited patiently for his return

OOOOO TIMESKIP IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

a little girl with bouncing dark brown hair was giggling as she maneuvered herself around the tall people

a shout from her parents and little sister was only making her run faster until she crashed into the legs of the person she’s been looking for

his blue jersey was similar to hers and she raised her arms up with a bright smile

‘uncle!’

she yelled and he chuckled before hoisting her up to his arms

‘ah, reyna-chan, didnt mom and dad tell you to wait for them? look! tala-chan is crying because you left her’

she followed his finger to her little sister, who was in her father’s arms, crying and reaching out for her

‘nee-chan!’

she screeched

finally, her parents were there and you were scolding her for running off

‘reyna, just dont do that again’

you said and she nodded, pouting and holding her uncle’s thumb

‘thank you, tooru-san. i dont know what i would do if she got lost’

oikawa grinned then gently patted the hat-covered head of the newborn baby girl that was strapped to your chest

‘hehe, its okay, y/n-chan. after all! uncle is always there to save reyna-chan!’

she shrieked when he held her up and hajime shook his head in his antics

‘where’s the others? i saw them in the stands but-’

he was cut off when he heard the shouts and yells from the other side that could only belong to your boys

‘woooo!!!!’

kindaichi’s voice echoed through the place and mattsuhana were rushing to greet their goddaughters

tala shyly accepted the arms of mattsun while makki was squealing quietly when darna was holding his finger tightly as she slept

‘taka-san, wanna hold her? she’s easier to hold when she’s sleeping’

‘oh can i?’

his eyes held the stars as the 11-month-old raised her fist then lowered it back down, sleep still heavy on her

‘waaa~ darna-chan is growing really quickly’

kunimi whispered, peering over his senpai to look at the baby whos eyes kept fluttering

you chuckled while looking at oikawa and him playfully bouncing reyna

‘tooru-san, congratulations on your win. it seems you’ve beaten hajime this time’

you complimented and the brunette smiled brightly at you, adjusting the little girls in his arms

‘ei, y/n-chan, i’ll beat him next time, and next time and the next time!’

every time he said ‘next’ he gave his goddaughter a kiss on her cheek making her giggle

your husband was pouting at the reminder of japan’s loss and you reached over to wrap your arms around him causing hajime to turn his head away from you

‘aww, my 4th baby is sad now’

you cooed and cupped his face delicately on your hands making him sulk and whine

the others, watching the scene, continue to be surprised at this side of their captain that remains to only be caused by you

‘ugh, nearly a decade later and theyre still sappy’

yahaba gagged and watari slapped his back

‘let them be happy’

‘come on! im in the mood for spaghetti! you like spaghetti, tala-chan?’

‘eung!’

mattsun cheered with kindaichi and she raised her hands to share the same energy

once everyone was situated in a restaurant and ordered, small talks were shared around the table of the past

‘haha, spaghetti is how your baba found out about you, tala-chan’

yahaba’s comment made the walking group laugh at the memory of seeing the video you sent in the seijoh group chat

‘i wanted to be creative with my second child since my firstborn was revealed by this loudmouth’

oikawa winced at the indirect diss at him

‘y/n-chan! i was really excited to find out i was going to be an uncle!’

‘youre already an uncle, bakakawa!’

hajime has toned down the insults to keep it pg for the children

‘but-!’

they started to argue, the oldest daughter looking disinterested as she sees this happening or hearing it whenever her dad and uncle video chat

‘it took me forever to find a ‘prego’ pasta sauce in the grocery store like i dont know why. was there a shortage?’

you complained, remembering the frustration

your fellow first years snickered at you and kindaichi prodded fun at you

‘is that why you just outright told him you were pregnant the day you found out?’

you rolled your eyes and watched makki and mattsun and tala watch the youngest as she wiggled her fists in the air and was awake enough to babble ‘makki’ over and over again

that was her first word and although she is now able to say a few words, she still repeats her first word over and over again

‘we had a fight and it just came out so of course i didnt have time to prepare!’

you defended and hajime finished his antics with oikawa just as you said that

‘what-what was your words again? ‘i really want to push you off the roof right now but i want my baby to meet their bastard father first?’‘

you gasped at that regretful statement and punched him in the arm

‘hajime! stop!’

you whined and covered your face with the sleeves of your his hoodie

‘hehe, y/n, you should do that again’

kyotani teased and you glared at him

‘shut up kyotani’

eyebrows were raised

‘eh? are you more hormonal?’

‘do you realize you already have 3 daughters?’

‘iwaizumi-san really wants to have a volleyball team family’

‘at least wait a year and a half, you animals’

‘so,, like hes that good huh?’

hajime growled and leaned over to intimidate but you snarled and jumped on your feet, being held back by the arms by kindaichi and hajime to stop yourself from leaping across the table to kill yahaba

‘keep talking like shite and i’ll make sure none of you become the godfather of this baby’

okay what

one, did you just curse

and two, this baby?!

‘im big sister again?!’

reyna ruined the surprised silence and then chaos ensued

‘WHAT!’

‘BABY?!’

‘THIS BABY?!’

you just realized what you said and smirked at the chaos you created and sat back down, leaning on the back of the chair and smugly taking a sip of your water

‘oh the power i hold in my hands’

you teased and oikawa pointed at you

‘when! how long!’

you looked at hajime who was so shocked that his eyes glazed over and a passerby wouldve thought he was dead

‘apparently 3 months’

oikawa started counting and his eyes widened at that thought

‘you-! you stayed in argentina! in my house! my house-!’

‘yep. both of them created under your house’

what 

!!!!!

hajime fainted 

oikawa screamed

a/n: okay i admit i got a little too carried away with this one. i just love filo!iwa and this was mostly written in his pov bc cmon we all know we love iwa and fell in love w him the moment we saw him

[euphoricsunflowers]

dream of you — im changkyun/i.m

a/n: stan chung ha for clear skin

word count: 1k (i lost inspiration so it cuts off suddenly lol i do not apologize)

content: songfic (?), sub!changkyun, dom!fem!reader, face sitting, begging, they meet at a bar and go back to y/n’s place 😏😏, drinking!!, obviously both are consenting but both are slightly under the influence so please remember that!! drink responsibly!!!

summary: oh, pretty boy at the bar, don’t make me dream of you~

it’s getting late

and this bar's about to close

and you say you'll drive me home

'cause i’m on your way

the bar is loud, so full of chatter and music that changkyun can barely hear his own thoughts. he reaches to grab his drink, taking a large gulp before slamming it back in the table. he doesn’t usually get drunk, and he’s really only just buzzed right now, but he could care less about it all tonight. tonight was for him. having just been broken up with, he needed some to do besides cry in his bed with the lights off.

“hey there,” your voice mutters to him, and he turns to look at whoever the voice belonged to. you sit in the seat next to him, setting your empty glass down and making eye contact with him.

god you have such pretty eyes he thinks to himself, drowning in thoughts of your pretty red top and in the alcohol he’s drank.

“ah, pretty boy, you in there?” you smile, trying to get his attention. this is the point where he realizes he hasn’t said anything to you, nor done more than make eye contact.

“oh, i’m sorry. hi, i’m changkyun,” he sputters, giving you his hand to shake, but instead you hold it, pressing a kiss to his knuckle, calling the bartender over after you do, but still holding his hand. he’s used to always having to charm the other person, but you’re here kissing his hand and he’s so flustered and lost in your charm that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“another gin and tonic for me, and another one of whatever he’s drinking,” you look at him with a sudden sincerity, “do you want to keep drinking? it’s completely fine if you don’t, darling.”

“no, another one before i head out sounds good,” he smiles, and you smile back.

“one more round for the both of us it is,” you echo as the bartender leaves. you still hold his hand with one of yours, but your other hand reaches out to hold onto his shoulder, pulling yourself in so you can whisper in his ear, “tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything, yeah?”

after your drinks, and him sneakily paying both of your tabs, you both stand up, and you whisper to him again, “lets get out of here.”

and changkyun’s body and heart are aching to go, to follow you anywhere, but he can’t help his true nature slipping through, “hmm, i don’t know if i wanna…” he mutters cheekily, almost teasingly, but it doesn’t shake you.

“c’mon, pretty boy, i know you want me too,” your hand holds his shoulder as you press a faint kiss to his neck, and you swear you hear a whimper from the boy you’re holding, “don’t make me dream of you.”

all night long 'cause i’ll keep you so turned on

so now no more games, come through

don’t make me dream of you

—

your apartment was closer, so that’s where you were now. you fiddle with the key for a few minutes and you almost call it all off, but the door is open in the nick of time. he immediately pulls you to kiss him before the door is even locked, pressing his own back against the wall. you rest a hand above his head for stability as your other hand reaches to pull off his shirt. he throws it off quickly, desperately, and pulls you back in for a kiss before you even get the chance to make dirty talk.

on the way to his bedroom, your top and bra are lost mindlessly, hands roaming each other like he’s oxygen and you’re suffocating; you’re food and he’s starving. he pulls you close, so impossibly, desperately close, and you leave kisses down his neck, biting down on the skin above his collarbone. he cries out softly, but he doesn’t stop you, far from it actually. you leave a few burning kisses to his arm, squeezing at the muscle of his bicep, “you’re mine,” he whimpers involuntarily at your possessive comment, but nods, so you keep going, “all mine. you’re mine to ruin, pretty boy. mine.”

“yours, miss, all yours,” he breathes, grinning faintly at how pleased you seem by his response. he wraps his arms around your neck as you bring him to the bed, and he wants to marvel at your strength, but the thought leaves his mind when you’re back to kissing him again. he remembers the pink lip gloss you wore, the sticky feeling of your lips against his making him weak. maybe he could steal your lip gloss, wear it just to remember what your lips felt like against his.

“do you wanna eat me out?” you ask in a whisper, pulling off your prettiest red panties. hot. he nods, his hands reaching out to pull your thighs forward.

“sit on my face,” changkyun murmurs softly, absentmindedly tracing patterns onto your skin as he awaits your response.

“keep your eyes on me, pretty boy,” you move to straddle his face, keeping your sex just out of reach for his mouth if he doesn’t pull himself up to meet you halfway, “beg for it, pretty.”

he does miss a beat, breathing in the perfect scent of you, “please, mistress, please let me taste you. all i want to do is make you cum, please let me,” he pleads, his eyes sparklingly in the night even with the lights off and the window just cracked enough open to let you both see somewhat. he looks ethereal below you like that, and if you weren’t so desperate to be stimulated, maybe you would have taken the time to tease and taunt him a little more.

you lower yourself down, and immediately his hands wrap around your thighs, his mouth working tirelessly to please you. you grind yourself down against him, the friction is just never enough, you need to feel more.

and you can't breathe

when your eyes all fixed on me

know you think that i don't see it

but i do

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiest @rosethefae @staranonthoughts @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting @baa-nana

[heyheydidjaknow]

I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. “Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

--

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

[adhdeancas]

oh my god dude I want heaven deancas with them in a little log cabin far away from j*hn winchester and their heater goes out in their little cold cabin and it's smutty and Cas warms dean up with his wings while they cuddle on their king sized bed and wing kink sorry im a little drunk too

YOOOO I love you i support you i poured another glass of wine for this let’s DO IT

also i love that you specified AWAY FROM JOHN WINCHESTER THAT MOTHERFUCKER CAN DIE (more permanently and worse this time please)

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

Dean woke up in the middle of the night feeling like he was in a motherfucking fridge. He squirmed his way out of Cas’s icy cold grasp, grumbling, and vaulted himself out of their obnoxiously large bed. When they had built the cabin (which they decided to do together, fuck heaven’s snap-and-it’s-there technology, thank you very much), Cas had forced Dean to give them space. Honestly, the king sized bed was the luxurious thing he’d fought against the least. God love him, but Cas was the most obnoxious sleeper in the world. He spread out like his life depended on it and also seemed to cling to Dean’s each and every body part. The big kitchen with the island had required more convincing, but that’s where he was headed now. 

He mercifully did not stub his toe against the cabinets, that extra walking space coming in handy, and made his way to the thermostat on the far wall. “Mother fucker!” 

Cas stirred; Dean could see him moving through the open bedroom door. “Dean?” he called out sleepily. Dean waved him off even though he knew Cas couldn’t see him.

“We’ve got no fucking heat! Fixing it, fixing it, go back to sleep,” he shivered, wrapping himself up in his arms. There was like a foot of snow outside. He could see his breath! This was bullshit. He stomped back to bed, giving up for now, and wrapped himself back up in his boyfriend. “Isn’t heaven supposed to be perfect?” 

Cas made a noncommittal grunt and instinctually leaned forward to kiss the back of Dean’s neck where it met his shoulders. “You’d be bored,” he replied correctly. His breath on Dean’s back was a welcome change in temperature, and Dean shifted, other parts of him warming up now.

“Mm, I’ve got another way we could keep warm,” he murmured suggestively. Cas laughed. Dean turned around and looked at him, a thrill running from his head to his dick. Cas was so fucking pretty, even in the dark halfway through a fat, roast-induced sleep. “You game, loverboy?” 

Cas giggled again. Dean couldn’t help but grin back. He loved making his angel laugh. It was so fucking surreal- that he could say something to make just pure joy bubble out of this gorgeous creature. “Want me to bring out my wings?” 

Dean let his hands drift down to Cas’s hips, anticipating buzzing in his fingertips. “When don’t I?” 

“Never.” Cas agreed. He looked at Dean with absolute reverence as Dean watched Cas’s wings unfold into their dimension. The black, shimmering feathers caught every hint of moonlight available. Dean pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t make an audible gasp. Cas’s wings never ceased to amaze him. They wrapped around Cas’s back and Dean lifted up to allow them to envelope them both completely. They were soft and delicate and warm. 

“Love these,” Dean nuzzled in with a little smile. Okay, so he’d passed out a couple hours ago with a few whiskeys under his belt, so what? He could be disgustingly cute with his boyfriend. It was a free... universe.

“You flatter me.” 

“Nah, I don’t give you enough credit. You’re just... awesome.” Dean pressed forward and hoped Cas could feel how much he meant it with the open-mouthed, filthy kiss he gave him. Cas moaned in response, wrapping his arms around Dean so he and his wings could embrace him even closer. Dean wrapped his hands under and grabbed ahold of Cas’s wings where they connected to his shoulders, being careful not to pull any individual feathers. He used the grip as leverage to prop his hips up against Cas’s and grind down on him. 

Cas was wearing old pajama pants, ratty and probably stolen from Dean. Dean took his hand away from Cas’s wings to push them down, gasping at the contact of their dicks warm against each other. “Fuck, Dean.” Cas groaned. He squirmed until he got the pants off completely. They left them bunched up under the covers and Dean detached his lips from Cas’s to talk. 

“Wanna-”

“Yes.” Cas cut him off immediately and tried to kiss him again.

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed. “I didn’t get the chance to say anything, Feathers,” 

Cas looked deeply into his eyes without an ounce of shame. “Anything with you, the answer is yes.” 

Dean blushed. He couldn’t help it. He surged forward to give his boyfriend another kiss, then continued. “In that case...” 

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

“Can I... I know your wings are...” Dean ran a soft hand along the bottom of Cas’s wings, observing how they shuddered at the touch. “Sensitive.” 

“Mhm. Please.” Cas insisted. Dean’s heartrate sped up, and he got up on his knees. Cas was always up for... well, basically whatever. And he always approached things with this infinite curiosity and wonder, it made Dean simultaneously self-conscious and bold. They shifted around now, Dean flipping around. Cas pretty greedily tugged Dean’s ass toward his face, which Dean chuckled at once he realized. Cas tightened his wings around Dean’s waist, so his dick was tucked tight against the feathers. 

Dean bit his lip at the soft touches. He set his hips on a brief experimental roll that made Cas exhale quickly against Dean’s ass. Dean grinned and settled down further on Cas’s face. Cas happily hummed into it, tongue flicking out against his ass. “Ah, Cas,” Bucked down and up again, torn between pushing his ass back against Cas’s tongue and up against that blissfully soft wall of feathers. In the end, he chose both. He leaned down and put his arms across his lap, pressing Cas’s wings against his cock and his ass against Cas’s face. Cas’s tongue slipped deeper inside his ass, swirling around the tight muscle in a way that made Dean squirm. He definitely wasn’t cold now. In fact, he could feel sweat dripping down his spine, settling on Cas’s wings. “Cas, can ya breathe down there?” 

Cas made a noise Dean couldn’t distinguish. Dean lifted up, pausing. “Mm, don’t want to,” Cas muttered and tugged Dean back down. 

Dean’s laugh turned to a moan at Cas’s aggressive swirl of the tongue. His hips jumped up, teasing against Cas’s wings, and Cas made this high-pitched noise he’d never heard before. “God, you like that, hm, Cas?” He tried it again, this time pressing so the friction against his pre-come slick cock was satisfying to him too. “Oh, you wanna- you want me to come on those feathers, hm?”

He felt the vibration of Cas’s moan against his ass. He could see Cas’s untouched dick leaking onto his stomach just through the early morning moonlight, and he longed to lean down at lick it off. But that would require shifting away from Cas’s mouth, and Dean was altogether unwilling to do it. 

“Yeah, you want these wings all wet and stuck together, you want me to dirty ‘em up, yeah?” Dean whispered into the night. He could still see his breath in the air, but he couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. His cock jumped with every thrust into Cas’s wings, his ass clenched against Cas’s chapped lips with pleasure. “I, gotta, Cas-” Dean warned haltingly. 

Cas took his chance and ran his wings up and down Dean’s cock. Dean’s bottom lip shook with the motion and Dean came, moaning Cas’s name even as Cas pressed a flat tongue across Dean’s hole. 

“Fuck, fuck,”

Cas’s wings were filthy, they were covered in Dean, weighted down. Cas pulled them apart as Dean eased off him. He groaned and Dean immediately dove down to Cas’s dick. It jumped when his eager lips touched it, firmed up even more when he stretched his tongue over the head. “Dean, my- my wings- they’re-” 

“Mhm,” Dean murmured against Cas’s dick. He ran a hand through his own come, wiping it on Cas’s chest for effect. He sucked Dean dry, and Dean licked him clean, relishing every drop. 

“Dean,” Cas gripped at Dean’s shoulders and tugged him back upright to his face. Dean grinned and gave him another filthy kiss so he could taste himself on Dean’s tongue. “I’m filthy,” 

Dean raised an eyebrow, completely unapologetic. “Give me half an hour and we can shower it off,” he promised. Cas laughed and pulled his human close to his chest. They shared a few more kisses before they both dropped off to sleep, shower forgotten until they would wake up cold and sticky in the morning.

[freddiesaysalright]

Just Like a Woman - Part 6

A Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @lizawritesthings, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronebitesrogertaylor, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @flick-ofthe-wrist, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace​, @itsabenthing​, @bookandband​, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife​, @grazessa​, @borhapqueen92​ If you’d like to be added let me know!

A/N: The big talk! Hope y’all enjoy it!

Warning(s): None :)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

Part 6 here we go!!!

Roger watched himself squint against the glare from the sun as he made his way back to his car. A much younger him walked briskly away from your front door, got into his car, and let out a sob. Present day Roger felt the familiar pang of regret. Since that day, he had never stopped feeling it every once in a while. It was sharp and painful.

The scene shifted. Roger was standing in the corner of your old bedroom. An even younger version of him was lying with you on your bed. He was on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you rested against his chest, snuggled into his side.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Hm?” you murmured.

“I think I wanna drop out of school.”

Your eyes opened and you turned to look at him.

“What?” you questioned.

“I don’t want to be a dentist,” he said. “Things are going really well with the band, and I think music is what I want to focus on.”

You didn’t answer right away.

“Is...is that alright?”

You sat up, but with a smile on your face. 

“Oh, Roger, it’s more than alright,” you told him sweetly. “I’ve been hoping you’d say so.”

“Really?!” he gasped, sitting up as well.

“Yes!” you returned. “School is making you miserable! If the band is what makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”

“But what about the instability?” he wondered. “It’s not the most regular future.”

“Roger, I love you,” you said, cupping his cheek with your hand. “All I want is you to do what makes you happiest.”

“I appreciate that, Y/N,” he replied, turning his face to kiss your palm. “I was so afraid of picking the safe thing and that I’d…”

“What?” you pressed.

“That I’d end up like my dad,” he admitted.

“That would never happen,” you said. 

“How do you know?”

“Because you’ve got a heart, Roger Taylor,” you said. “I’ve seen it.”

“Seen it?” he joked. “You own it.”

You giggled together and the scene changed again.

Now, it was your childhood home. You and young Roger sat at the piano together, playing more from The Music Man. You were maybe sixteen or seventeen. 

“Alright, Y/N, your father and I are heading out,” your mother said as she entered the sitting room, pulling her gloves on. “You sure you’ll be alright here?”

“Of course, Mum, I’ve got Roger with me,” you told her.

She beamed at both of you before kissing the top of your head. Then she did the same to Roger. Suddenly, present day Roger remembered exactly what night it was. You were seventeen.

“Viv, come on,” your father called from the kitchen, where you were certain he was already halfway out the back door. “Our reservations are at eight and if we’re not on time, they’ll give our table away!”

“Coming, darling!” she called back. Then she looked at you and Roger again. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Be good.”

“Have a good time, Vivian,” Roger said.

She smiled and headed toward the kitchen. As she pushed on the door, she turned and waved to you both one last time. You and Roger waved back. Then she was gone. You both listened as the car started up and rumbled out of the driveway.

“Can I play you something?” Roger asked.

“Is it a Roger Taylor original?” you teased.

He looked seriously at you. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I wrote it for you.”

“You wrote me a song?”

“Of course, Y/N,” he said. “I love you.”

You smiled. Roger began the first slow notes. It was like nothing you had ever heard from him before. This was a sweeping, lyrical melody. He didn’t have lyrics yet, but you felt what he meant through the sounds. The song didn’t need words. It flowed directly from his heart into yours.

Present Roger watched, remembering the tune. A tear began to fall down his cheek.

Young Roger slowed to a stop and then looked at you. You were blushing and a bit weepy.

“That was beautiful,” you told him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. 

You leaned over and kissed him. The two of you had become very good at kissing each other after two years of being together. Only, you didn’t stop kissing him. Things heated up as he wrapped his arms around you and you pressed your body into him.

“Roger, I want you,” you whispered into his ear while his lips explored your neck.

He pulled away, looking into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

You nodded. “Please.”

“Of course, love,” he said with a smile. “Whatever you want.”

He took your hand. You both rose from the piano bench, and he led you upstairs.

The scene changed again. You and Roger were even younger now. It was Christmas Day, and the two of you were on the floor, showing each other your gifts. You were maybe nine or ten years old. Suddenly, little Roger was tickling your sides. You shrieked with laughter as you fell onto your back, only giving him more of an advantage. Your father watched you fondly. Then, he locked eyes with present Roger, scowling.

“Was it worth it?” Felix demanded.

Roger bolted upright in bed, sucking in a large breath. Gasping and panting, he looked around his bedroom. His eyes found the clock. It was seven in the morning.

“Fuck,” he sighed, flopping onto his back again.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget the dream. The look on your father’s face. Only, everything before that was pretty pleasant to think about. The night he played you that song he wrote...well, it was the tenderest experience he had ever shared with another person.

“It’s just because you’re seeing her tonight,” he told himself. “That’s all.”

Before you and your mother left the studio that day you brought her by, Roger arranged for you to come Saturday night for dinner. Dominique said she had plans, and the nanny would be around to watch the children, but they would be out of the way. Roger’s nerves were getting to him now that the day had arrived.

He had to go to the studio for a few hours, so that was a nice distraction. Only, he struggled to forget the dream. Your father had asked him the question that had haunted him for years, and it was impossible to answer. Hopefully, there would be closure over dinner.

That evening, when he arrived home, he started preparing the food. It wasn’t a complicated meal, since Roger hadn’t cooked for himself in years, but one he was comfortable enough making. Dominique helped out a bit too. Then he went up to shower.

He was selecting a shirt when Dominique entered his room. She was wearing a stunning dress and heels. Her makeup and hair were done as well. He looked her once over.

“Well, where are you off to?” he asked.

She sighed. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this or not, but I think you deserve to know. I’ve got a date.”

He blinked. “A date?”

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s my plan for tonight.”

“Dom, we’re still married,” he reminded her.

“Well, it’s not stopping you,” she argued.

“That’s different,” he said. “Y/N and I aren’t on a date, this is….something else.”

She scoffed. “Alright then.”

“Why d’you wanna date?” he questioned. “Isn’t it weird?”

“A bit,” she agreed. “But I’ve got to start living my life like it's my own again, Rog.”

“Well...I can’t very well stop you, can I?” he joked.

She chuckled. “No, you can’t.”

A beat passed.

“Wear the blue shirt,” she told him. “Brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Good luck tonight, Dom.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You as well.”

She left. He listened to her bid the children goodnight before she headed downstairs. His heart ached for Dominique. He had badly wanted to love her. But unfortunately, she followed you, and that was something no one could overcome.

You were just putting lipstick on when your mother came into your room. She gasped when she saw you in your dress.

“Oh, darling you’re just lovely!” she praised. “Which I’m sure he’ll say.”

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to retort.

“I know it’s not a date,” she stopped you. “So don’t look at me like that. I’m only saying he’ll be impressed.”

You smiled and puckered your lips together in the mirror. Then you looked at her.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright, Mum?” you asked. “On your own?”

“I’ve been on my own before,” she said. “I’ve got television, my book, and I can play a riveting game of solitaire if need be.”

You chuckled. “Alright, then.”

“I think I hear the car pulling up,” she gasped. “Oh, how glamorous!”

You rolled your eyes again. Roger sent a car for you and the driver came to your door. You followed him out to the car. He opened the door for you. You waved to your mother as you ducked inside, and then you were off. To Roger’s. For what might be the most difficult conversation of your life.

Roger’s house was quite grand. As you pulled up, you couldn’t help but admire just how well he’d done for himself. He had created his dream life.

The driver opened the door for you, and you went up to the front of the house. It was eight o’clock so the sun was gone. You shivered a moment before Roger opened the door with a wide smile.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted. “Come on in.”

“Thank you,” you replied.

He took your jacket and hung it on the rack to the right. Your bag went with it. Then you followed him into the kitchen.

“Roger, it smells incredible!” you cried. “Since when did you know how to cook?”

“That’s rich, coming from the woman who burns everything,” he returned with a smirk.

You laughed. He took a break from stirring a sauce to pour you each a glass of wine. It was a flavorful red blend that you loved.

“You’re spoiling me,” you said.

“It’s no less than you deserve, love,” he replied.

You smiled at him. You chatted lightly while he cooked. Your nerves had disappeared with the ease of the atmosphere. You were two old friends having a meal together. There was more to come, of course, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Alright, it’s ready,” he said. 

“I can’t wait,” you told him.

He served up the plates. You sat together at the table and dug in. The food was great, and you were sure to tell him so. As you finished up the meal, you both became serious.

“Y/N, as much fun as I’m having, we need to talk about things,” he said. 

“I know,” you agreed. “It feels a little overwhelming now.”

“D’you want to start or should I?” he wondered.

“Do you have any questions for me?” you asked.

“I do, actually,” he said. “When I left, I had no idea you wanted to be an attorney. How’d you end up doing that?”

“Really?” you questioned. “That’s your big question?”

“Not the big one,” he laughed. “But I have been wondering.”

“Well, after you left, I went home to my parents,” you said. “I was heartbroken and I needed them. Plus, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I thought on it, and then I remembered your mother.”

“My mother?”

“Yeah,” you said. “How she was trapped in her marriage to your father for so long and how unfair it was. So, I looked into law. I wanted my focus to be on marriage law because I wanted to be able to help people like her.”

“That’s sweet of you,” he said. “Another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever love anyone after me?”

You swallowed. The answer was simple, but it was difficult to say.

“No.”

“You didn’t….you weren’t with anyone in all these years?” he pressed.

“I mean, I dated,” you said. “I had a brief affair with one of my law professors, but for me, it was casual, and for him, it was serious. He actually proposed to me. But we’d only been seeing each other for the length of the semester, so I ended it. I kept dating casually, but nothing really happened until I met Mark.”

“Why d’you think that was?” he wondered.

“Well, because…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath. “When I was with you, I had a very clear idea of what life was going to be like. Then you left and every hope….every dream I ever had went with you. It was a void no other person could hope to fill.”

A beat passed.

“What made it worse was that the one person I could talk to, my best friend, was also gone,” you said. “It was...the loneliest I’ve ever felt.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “I got my job at Bill’s firm and I’ve made solid friends there.”

“I’m glad for that,” he said. “Things weren’t much easier for me, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I seriously doubt that.”

“I’m not joking, Y/N,” he said. “I missed you so much. There were things I talked to you about that no one else ever knew about me. I also lost my best friend.”

“But you wanted more,” you reminded him.

“I did,” he said. “And I was foolish for it.”

You looked at him levelly, waiting for him to finish.

“I did my exploring, but it wasn’t fulfilling,” he said. “I went back to Dominique every time I wanted stability, but I was using her. She was the closest thing I had to you. I got it all out of my system, but as much as I loved her, there was still something missing. So I continued to chase other women, even though I was married.”

“Then can you really say you got it out of your system?” you questioned. 

“Yes,” he said. “Because ever since you’ve been back in my life, I haven’t so much as looked at another woman. I’ve learned that all that experience wasn’t worth losing you.”

Tears stung your eyes. Your heart felt constricted, as if it was flinching away from Roger. It had been knocked around by him so long, it didn’t trust the sweet things he was saying.

“That day in the studio, I meant to ask you something,” you choked out.

“What was it?” he wondered.

“If you had done your exploring and got it out of your system,” you began, lip trembling. “Why didn’t you come back to me?”

“Would you have taken me back?” he asked, surprised. “I assumed you never wanted to see me again. I knew I’d hurt you and -”

“Yes, Roger,” you cut across him. “I’d have taken you back in a second.”

It sounded stupid to you. But you knew yourself. Your heart, as much as it feared being hurt by Roger again, was weak for him. Hell, your whole being was weak for him. Ever since that day he left, you felt like half a person. Half a heart. Half a body. Half a soul. Roger made you complete.

He didn’t speak for a moment. It took so long, you feared he may not answer at all. Then, he pushed his chair back, got up, and stepped over to you. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you watched him. You looked up into his eyes and an electric charge passed between you. Your stomach churned. Your heart rate quickened.

“Rog-”

He cut you off when he bent down and kissed you. Your eyes fell closed as his lips crashed into yours. Your arms naturally coiled themselves around his neck. He lifted you out of the chair, lips still devouring yours, and placed you onto the counter, standing between your legs. Your fingers curled into his hair and you tugged him impossibly closer.

“Rog,” you whimpered as he moved down to kiss your neck.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he sighed, his breath hot on your skin.

You took his face between your hands and made him look at you.

“I forgive you,” you said with a soft smile.

He returned one. Then you leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. You looked at each other again, grinning. Then, a small voice interrupted.

“Daddy,” it called from the kitchen entryway. “Bad dweam.”

Roger turned toward his son. Felix stood, lips drawn into a pout, and rubbing his eyes. Roger went and knelt in front of the boy.

“A bad dream, huh?” he asked.

Felix nodded. “Vewy bad.”

Roger scooped Felix into his arms, resting the boy on his hip. 

“What happened, lovie?” he asked.

“A monstew,” Felix explained. “In my bed.”

“A big monster?” Roger wondered, kissing Felix’s temple.

“Vewy big,” Felix said. 

“Well, Daddy’s here now and he’ll shoot that monster if he comes back,” Roger said.

You bit your lip as you watched Roger comfort his son. He let Felix cry out his fear a little more, and then tickled his belly to ease him. Felix giggled and wriggled against his father’s grasp, but he succumbed to his laughter.

“Daddy!” he complained.

Roger stopped to let him breathe. Then he walked Felix over to you.

“This is Daddy’s good friend, Miss Y/N,” he said. “Can you say hi?”

“Hi,” Felix said bashfully. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Felix,” you replied. 

“She’s pwetty,” Felix said, looking at Roger.

“You think so?” Roger asked, looking between you and his son. “Me too.”

“Whewe’s Mummy?” Felix asked.

The question sent a biting pang through your heart. There was a time when having Roger’s children was your greatest dream. This was a harsh reminder of what you didn’t have. And the time you had lost.

“She’s out, but she’ll be home later,” Roger said. “Are you ready to go back to bed now?”

At that moment, the nanny came hurtling in, clutching her chest and out of breath.

“Felix!” she wheezed. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The nanny was a middle aged Irish lady named Verity. She was a part time employee to help out since Dominique was still doing some modeling. Roger asked her to come while he prepared for the evening so he wouldn’t be distracted while with you.

“S’alright, Verity, he’s with me,” Roger assured her. “He had a bad dream.”

Verity crossed herself and murmured a prayer before looking at Felix again.

“You gave me a fright, child,” she scolded.

“I’m sowwy,” he said. 

Roger passed Felix over to Verity, and she started out of the room. The phone rang.

“Verity, could you get that?” Roger asked. “I’m busy.”

“Of course, sir,” she said. “I’ll answer it from the phone in your room, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he replied.

He looked at you as she disappeared. Your brow was creased over your eyes and your mouth was turned down.

“You’re rude, you know that?” you said.

“Rude?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

You slid off the counter and landed on your feet. 

“If you wanna fall in love with someone else, that’s fine,” you said. “You wanna marry her? Fine. But to father her children, that’s just rude.”

Roger chuckled and you scowled at him.

“It’s not funny!” you insisted.

“Okay, let’s pretend like what you just said to me isn’t ridiculous,” he retorted. “I’m not laughing at that. It’s just….you’re so damn beautiful when you get cross.”

You softened. “Shut up.”

He was just leaning in to kiss you again, when Verity returned, looking grim.

“Verity?” Roger questioned. “What is it?”

“It was a police officer on the phone, sir,” she said. “Dominique’s been found on the side of the road, badly hurt. They’re taking her to hospital now.”

The color drained from Roger’s face as he looked at her. His mouth fell open.

“We’ll head right over,” you told Verity. “Stay with the children, Verity, and we’ll call when we know more.”

You looked at Roger. 

“Rog?”

He didn’t answer.

“Roger, focus!”

He finally looked at you. 

“She had a date,” he said quietly.

“Roger, this isn’t on you,” you told him, knowing exactly where his thoughts were. “We don’t know what happened yet.”

He took a deep breath and something in him shifted. He was completely alert.

“Let’s go,” he said, snatching his keys from the hook on the wall.

You followed him out to the car.

[a-lonely-tatertot]

Finding Home

A/N: HIIIIIII IM BACK BOIS! Anyways this is a shorter chapter I didn’t wanna mess with outline so you get tiny chapter. sooo woot woot for like barely 2k words? But like the doc im writing this on is at like 19k and 29 pages i am in shock. trying to get back a consistent updating with this so uh yeah dont keep your hopes up tho- working on ch. 7 rn hope you enjoy! As always betaed by the glorious @bookwyrminspiration

words: 2208

tw: none

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Chapter 6: These Secrets Stain Us Red

They had gotten off the bus at the last stop before Kull, stepping out into the cold air. Sophie glanced at the trees in the distance turning orange and yellow. Distantly, she remembered when she was younger this was her favorite season, how the leaves would fall and crunch at her feet, and how it was actually somewhat bearable to be outside. She smiled at the memory as she held Linh’s hand, walking quickly to the gas station, her stomach already grumbling.

“Linh?” a voice called from behind them as they stood in line. Linh swung around, trying to find the source of who called her, nearly startling Sophie into almost dropping her water. The mystery person stepped out from behind a small cluster of people with an overly energetic wave. “Linh! It is you!” he called.

Sophie watched as Linh’s eyes landed on the man and her whole expression shifted. As opposed to the man’s own happiness, Linh seemed to put a wall between her real emotions and the rest of the world, her face betraying nothing. “Hey, Sameul!” Linh said in pretend excitement; Sophie knew that her words carried an undertone of malice.

This Sameul was not the man Sophie had seen in the memories, but from Linh’s reaction, he seemed to probably be involved in whatever Linh was in.

“That’s me,” Sameul responded, clearly not getting Linh’s annoyance like Sophie was. “Geez, it’s been what, how many months since I last saw you?”

“Yeah it’s been a while,” Linh said, her shoulders rigid and her jaw set. Who the heck is this guy? she thought. Their name was called and Sameul followed them to go pick up their food. Sophie tried not to feel trapped with the way Linh’s eyes darted.

Sameul smiled ruefully, “Last time I saw you you had a little backpack and were running out the door in the middle of the night.” Linh took in a sharp breath and stuttering to a halt, her tray of food almost dropping. Sophie raised her eyebrows, more confused than ever. There was a beat then a sharp ring interrupted the weighted silence and Linh’s eyes widened with relief.

“Oh Sam, I’m sorry, that’s her sister calling. She’s really gotta take that. Why don’t you come with me?” Linh asked, more of a command than a suggestion. Reluctantly, Sophie pressed accept on her phone, ready to unleash the crazy whirlwind of shit that she had found out on one completely unprepared Amy. “What up checking in blame Tina she was worried,” Amy said, boredom concealing her concern.

“Uhuh sure Tina was worried,” Sophie chuckled. “Anyways, Linh is being super suspicious.”

Amy made a startled noise, “O-okay then so not well.” 

Sophie nodded even though Amy couldn’t see her, “Yup, also uh side note, totally did not watch another one of her memories.” “Sophie! It’s like you’re trying to do it on purpose!”

“It was an accident I swear!”

“Mhm, yeah, definitely.”

Sophie grumbled, “Oh screw off. Anyway, I was in this bathroom and her knuckles were all bloody like she had punched something. And then this guy came in and said that she wasn’t allowed to be reckless anymore, but from what I saw it was like she was living with some other runaway people I guess?”

Amy was silent for a moment. “Well damn.”

“Yeah,” Sophie agreed. “You shoulda seen her when this guy recognized her while we were getting food; she got like scary tense and for a moment I thought she was gonna water power him.” “Water power him? Really? That’s what you’re calling it?” Amy said. Sophie could practically hear her raising her eyebrow. “At that point just call it water bending.”

“I refuse to call it that.”

“How dare you; you’ve disrespected our childhood.” Sophie laughed. “But seriously,” Amy continued, and she knew she wasn’t going to like what she was going to say next, “Soph, what happened to telling her about the memories? Instead, you just spied more.” “She’s the one with the sketchy past!”

“That you don’t have any right to!”

“She’s been weird and I need to figure out why. Once I do I’ll tell her everything.”

“No, you don’t need to figure it out yourself! You need to talk to her and she will tell you if she’s ready to.” “Don’t tell me what to do Amy. She lied to me. The first night we were together we talked about how we got here and she lied to me like it never happened.”

“This isn’t war Sophie. Just because you’re scared, just because she lied doesn’t mean you get to invade her privacy. She’s not the enemy Sophie, she’s your girlfriend.”

Sophie hung up and her phone buzzed twice more while she watched Linh walk back over to her. This wasn’t Amy’s problem, this wasn’t Amy’s life, so screw her for trying to tell her what to do. She had the abilities and she was sure as hell going to use them. “Sam left,” Linh said with a clearly fake smile. “Said he should probably get back on the bus and didn’t want to intrude.”

At that Sophie raised an eyebrow, she didn’t need to use her telepathy to know it was a lie.

Stepping on the bus felt like placing the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew that man was something to Linh, or Linh was something to him; maybe he was what Linh was running from. She didn’t have regrets when she reached carefully out to Sameul’s mind and glanced at what he said to Linh. Maybe she should’ve regretted it, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She needed to know, when she had left the Lost Cities it was her way of saying “I will not be lied to even if it seems better that way”. So much had been kept from her and here she was, getting things from the source instead of waiting for someone to tell her.

The words, “You haven’t changed Linh,” rang in her ears as she pulled back, not letting any emotions show on her face as Linh followed behind her. Linh didn’t say anything so Sophie didn’t say anything and they settled into a tense silence as the bus around them buzzed with noise. Sophie tried to think of something to say as the words played on repeat in her head but Linh beat her to it.

“You never told me much about Mari, about what she means to you,” Linh said. Each word seemed rehearsed as if she had said it in her head a thousand times before speaking the words into existence. “I didn’t know you cared,” Sophie responded quickly before she could think it through.

“Tell me about Mari?” Linh asked softly.

Despite what Sophie was hiding from Linh and what Linh was hiding from her, she couldn’t stop herself from talking. The words may have meant nothing as she rambled on about her life there, only meant to be a distraction, but she let them spill from her lips without hesitation. She talked of Tommy, Angie, and Mari, of her weekly game nights, of the regulars at the diner. The people she had come to love yet when the time came she didn’t hesitate to leave ‘cause she was scared. Scared of the permanence of it, scared she’d lose herself in the dream of it. And how when she burned those bridges all she felt was a gaping hole in herself. As she talked she thought of the people she had left in the Lost Cities; how she burned it all like she had when she was young and reckless and angry burning her mark, the moonlark, into the ground desperate to prove something, desperate to mean something. But now she was afraid of that, tearing everything to shreds, burning it to ashes because she didn’t know how to mean something to someone. She thought of what Amy had said and briefly wondered if she would ever be able to just talk about something instead of treating everything as a mystery she was destined to solve. Eventually, her words lulled Linh to sleep and she let out a soft sigh of contentment as she laid her head on Sophie’s shoulder. Sophie glanced at Linh, only allowing herself a quick look at her girlfriend’s soft and relaxed face before staring out the window watching the gravel pass, not allowing herself time for her guilt and sadness to rise. She wasn’t allowed those feelings. With every fiber of herself Sophie dreaded and couldn’t wait for the moment they stepped off of the bus into Kull, the town with as weird of a name as people.

An hour later, as the sun started to fall behind the trees and the sky began to turn dark, that moment came and Sophie found her entire body filled with anxiety. They made their way to the front, Sophie in front of Linh, her hand stretched behind her holding Linh’s hand like a lifeline.

They were the only ones getting off and within seconds they were left standing on the dirt road, the bus was long gone. The air was cold, and the wind blew lightly, tossing around Sophie’s ponytail. Neither spoke to the other, standing in silence, staring at the buildings in front of them. It felt like they’d break a spell if they moved, if they talked, so Sophie didn’t. But Linh did (a spell didn’t need to last an eternity in her mind, just for the moment that it was intended for). Linh squeezed Sophie’s hand three times, dragging her out of her haze to stare at Linh confused.

“It’s a human thing,” Linh said sheepishly. Distantly Sophie remembered Amy teaching her, three squeezes, “I love you”. Four squeezes back and Sophie had said, “I love you too.” She didn’t have time to think if it was a lie because with that she started walking, entirely on autopilot, the familiar route to Mari’s house ingrained in her mind. It was after hours, so there’d be no point going to the diner. So she dragged Linh down main street, taking a left about halfway down, and then it was another block til she found herself outside the door on the white porch of the bright mobile home with her whole body buzzing. It was almost too much to be there; staring at it again it was like nothing had changed. But something had, because she didn’t have a key, and so she knocked with all of the impulsive courage she had left.

Three rapid knocks.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five seconds.

The door opened with a creak.

It wasn’t Mari.

There was a man, about her height, hair pulled in a bun and silver bangs over glasses. He was familiar, why was he familiar? Linh drew in a harsh breath of air and squeezed Sophie’s hand as tight as she could. That was when the puzzle pieces fell into place. That’s when it all made sense. The man standing in front of her was someone she hadn’t seen in two years other than in the memories she had unrightfully stolen from him. The man standing in front of her, still with his signature silver, was Tam Song.

Amy’s phone buzzed next to her, pulling her away from rereading her homework question for the eight time. Ever since Sophie’s call and her following silence Amy couldn’t focus; she tried to distract herself, and pulled herself away from texting Linh and telling her everything Sophie had told her. It’s not my place, she would think. It’s not part of the plan. Her phone unlocked and she slowly processed the photo and message. It was a picture of Sophie leaning her back against the gas station with her hand holding her phone to her ear. It was just like her co-conspirators to be that dramatic they had to send a photo too.

-Operation Collect the Dumbasses-

Braincell Holder: You know we heard that call. Pure of Heart Dumb of Ass: I thought we said that I would start this conversation? No Thoughts Head Empty: Yeah well you took too long. Braincell Holder: Not the Point. The Mental Stability: And the Point? This felt too pointed, Amy thought. Way too pointed and directed at her. Her phone buzzed again. Braincell Holder: Having second thoughts? Only slightly, Amy thought, but no no this needed to happen. The Mental Stability: No Pure of Heart Dumb of Ass: Thank the fucking ancients we can move on No Thoughts Head Empty: We’ve got a Phase 3 to begin

Phase 3, which they already had planned, would be the hardest to set up. Everything had to be just the right timing and just the right place.

Incoming call from Braincell Holder

Amy smiled as she accepted the call and long red hair popped into the frame. “Where is she?” Amy asked.

The redhead grinned, “She’ll be here in a minute, you know how Mrs. Sparkly Justice is; she’s got meetings but she said she’s got a friend who wants to help.”

Amy smiled, their little band of conspirators and their plan was working better than she could’ve imagined.

“So,” Amy said, “Where do we start?”