#go into my plastic bag drawer and see i have none like that one

[iicraft505]

i had a very autistic moment about the plastic bag i use to carry my work shoes in today

#iicraft505 #i fed (brought food out to) one of the foxes we have at work today #little guy had moved the gravel to blocking one of the doors in the cage so the pulley system didnt work #so i was using my shoe to move the gravel #youll never guess what was in the gravel! fox pee #and fun fact about foxes! they smell bad! though in moderation it's growing on me? #take that with a grain of salt though im the same nerd who had the smell of duck poop grow on them #anyways. i had peeed on gravel dust all over my shoes #they smelled like fox #put them in the bag because work shoes are only worn at work #come home. put shoes in bath tub and wash them. smell bad #*bag. it smells. put it in the garbage #go into my plastic bag drawer and see i have none like that one #take plastic bag out of the trash and wash it #anyway. washing my shoes is why theyre wet #anyway turns out im emotionally attached to that specific plastic bag #since it's remarkably durable and ive had it for so long

[gretavangroupie]

Struck (Chapter 2)

Word count: 9.0k+

Pairing: Daniel Wagner x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, drinking, smut, fluff.

Struck Playlist

A/N: Special shoutout to my beta, my co-writer, and my dear friend @gvfjess none of this would be what it is without her touch.

DANNY POV

Days have passed slowly, playing show after show. You are ready to go home. You are ready for your break. Only two more shows. You’ve taken Josh’s advice and left her alone and you have hated every second of it. You have almost texted her a few times over the past two weeks. Part of you thought that she might text you, but she hasn’t. 

You find yourself hitting the play button on that video of her more often than you should, while safe in the confines of your bunk, the curtain pulled closed.

If it were an actual button the tiny triangle would be rubbed off, long gone by now, only the illuminated plastic nub remaining. Hitting it again tonight, you are sucked right back into that moment. Her smile, the way her voice sounds, all of it ringing through your headphones, the sweetest noises you’ve ever captured. Your heart is calling out to know her so loudly you wonder if the others must hear it too. But it shouldn’t be. It can’t. You have been able to fight it off this long, but you aren’t sure how much longer you’re willing to fight. 

As the days continue to pass your resolve is slowly chipped away, piece by piece with every play of that video, and every swipe through those pictures. Every scroll through her instagram breaks down the wall you have been building brick by brick. Your will to fight it crumbling. The bricks are falling around you faster than you can put them back up.

So tonight when you sent her that text, it was really no surprise. It’s almost like you’ve been preparing yourself for this to happen. It's funny to you though, how talking to her is all you can think about but when you try to write the text nothing comes to mind. Not a single phrase. All you can manage is hey, and you know that is about the lamest thing you could have said, but saying something to her was better than nothing at all.

You: Hey

You haven't spoken to her in what feels like weeks… maybe it has been? You wonder if she will even respond. You think back to the first time you texted her, only receiving a heart reaction on your text. Your heart dropped a little that night, thinking that maybe you thought more of her than she thought of you. You can't help yourself from sinking back into that feeling. Reading the text again you sigh and place your phone on your chest.  The nerves coursing through your body limb by limb are quickly replaced with a rush of dopamine as the buzz of your phone against your skin indicates she's replied. 

With shaky hands, you illuminate the screen and see her response.

Her: Well… I thought you’d forgotten about me.

 If only she knew. If only you could tell her. 

You: Of course not. We have been really busy. Only have two more shows before our break.

Her: Good to know….So then what happens when you get a break?

You: Well, we get to go home and relax for a few weeks before we start back up again. It’s really a never ending cycle.  

Her: How long will you be home?

You: About two weeks.

Her: That makes sense…the Ypsi show is in three weeks.

You: I’ll see you there?

Her: Probably… I’ll have the shirt on that says I’m a Jake Girl…

You: I think you should wear the one that says I’m a Danny Girl.

Her: Maybe, I haven’t been convinced of that just yet.

You: I guess I’ll just have to try harder.

Her: Or at all…

You: I deserved that. 

Her: ;)

You lock your phone and slide it into the drawer, falling asleep tonight with a smile on your face and a flutter in your chest.

“Alright boys, see you in two weeks!” Jake says as you throw the last of your bags into the trunk of your car. 

“Later…” you say waving them off, sliding into the driver's seat of your car. 

It’s always so weird driving again after long stretches of being on the road. You always wonder how your body just knows exactly what to do, no matter how long it’s been. Although that's kind of how it is with playing an instrument. You never really forget. You hurry and head home, knowing that you are supposed to go to your friend's show tonight in Detroit. It’s about an hour and a half drive from Frankenmuth to Detroit and you planned ahead getting a hotel room, knowing that he likes to drink after the shows end. His band was really starting to take off, so when he told you that they were playing on the same night you got home,  you knew you had to be there for him just like he was for you. 

The drive is short back to your apartment, and you spend the little time you have at home, taking a shower in a real shower and getting ready, enjoying the silence. As much as you’d love to sleep in your own bed tonight, you can wait just one more night. You pack a small bag and throw it in your front seat, praying you don't hit traffic as you get into Detroit. 

About two hours later you are texting him that you’ve arrived as you walk up to the venue. He replies instantly telling you to head to the side door and he would let you in. Once you’re backstage you have your great reunion and chat over drinks. You tell them about how the tour is going and how you’re glad to be home for a break. You tell him how excited you are that this worked out and how you’re really happy to be here to support him. You’ve been friends for a while and you reminisce on the times it was you two jamming together in your parent's basement. Long before the Greta days.

About 10 minutes before the show starts you head out to the front of the house to stand near the back. You like seeing shows from this perspective. It’s nice to be the patron sometimes. It feels like the only shows you ever see are from side stages these days. One of the other guys joins you and you grab a drink from the bar before securing your spot in the back near the sound booth.

You make small conversation with him until the lights go down and you hear the intro music begin to play. You are excited, you haven't heard them play in a while. You’re interested to see how they have progressed since last time. You couldn't be happier for your friend when the crowd begins to cheer as they take the stage. You know exactly how it feels. The venue is packed and people are singing along to their songs, you nod your head along to the beat playing and that's when you see her. 

Surely not…

You step to the side to try and get a better look and sure enough. It's her. Here, merely a few feet away from you. Standing towards the back of the crowd, talking to a girl next to her. Your heart begins to beat rapidly. 

What is she doing here? What are the odds?

HER POV

“So what do you think? They are even better live, right?!” she asks, grabbing your arm and bouncing along with the music.

You smile and nod your head in agreement. You are glad you came, you almost didn't, but something told you that you should. You are having a good time and you love spending time with her. Her, being Ash, your former roommate. She invited you to come with her and her boyfriend James tonight since she introduced you to them last year. She decided to move in with James a few months ago and you were happy for her but you would be lying if you said you didn't miss your girls nights sometimes. As you sip the beer in your hand they start to play one of the songs you know the best and a smile crosses your face. You turn to her and tell her that after this song you are going to head to the bathroom and she nods.

You both sing your lungs out to every word and laugh at each other the whole time. As the song concludes you tap her shoulder to tell her you’re going and turn to head through the large double doors at the back of the venue. As you weave through a few people crowded behind you, you step into the clearing and you see him. Inhaling sharply you double take just to be sure. 

It's him. What is he doing here?

You feel yourself tense up with nerves as your eyes meet his. His piercing brown eyes quickly cast a spell over you, eliciting that warm feeling to course through you. Snapping out of it you quickly flick your eyes back to the door and push through heading into the lobby in search of the bathrooms. 

As you reach the stall you quickly pee and wash your hands. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a second, fixing your hair and trying to regain your composure before you inevitably have to walk back through those doors. 

You thought you had more time. You thought you wouldn't have to see him until the show. You never thought you’d see him here. Not tonight. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little bit happy though.

You blow out a deep breath as you push the bathroom door open. You fix your skirt and open the venue door, the loud music washing over you in a wave as the doors open wider. As you step in you see him again. He hasn't moved but he is now talking to some girls that have approached him. You cast a glance in his direction and his eyes flick to yours again. He nods his head gesturing for you to come over to him and you swallow heavily as your feet move in his direction.

You look over to see Ash and James still enjoying themselves, so you decide that talking to Danny for a few minutes won’t hurt. As you walk up to him he is finishing his conversation with who you now know were some of his fans. They walk away and suddenly it's just the two of you.

“Well hello Jake girl… never thought I would see you here...” he says with a smile.

Warmth rushes throughout your limbs at the sound of his velvety voice.

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised, we have the same taste in music after all…” you say playfully.

“Touché… let me rephrase, I am glad to see you here. I didn’t think I would see you until the show.” he says, biting his bottom lip nervously. 

He is dressed differently than the last time you saw him, this time in jeans and a t-shirt that clings tightly to his chiseled biceps. His hair is in long wild curls hanging freely around his face and his cheeks are slightly pink from the heat of the venue, or the alcohol, you’re not sure. 

“I know, I’m full of surprises I guess.” you smile up at him.

“That you are…” he says trailing off, biting the inside of his cheek. “Have you listened to them for long?” he asks.

“Only about a year, my friend Ash…” you say pointing over to her direction “introduced them to me. I really like them. They sound really good live.” 

“The guy singing is one of my best friends…” he says.

“Really? Well, aren't you just connected…” you reply smugly.

“Yeah, we have been friends since middle school. I can assure you we did not look like this back then…” he laughs.

“Oh please… I’m sure you were still hot even then.”

It tumbles from your lips faster than you can stop it. You swallow nervously.

Shit.

A smirk crosses his face as he takes a sip of his beer. 

“Well, I should probably get back to my friends…. It was good to see you Danny.” you say nervously.

His brow furrows as he realizes you’re leaving. “Ah, um, I– Yeah, it was good to see you too.” he says. He looks defeated and you look at him for another second, giving him the chance to say what you so desperately want to hear. But he doesn't. Instead, he flicks his eyes to your lips and then back up to meet your eyes, a warm smile turning up the corners of his lips.

With that, you turn on your heels and walk back over to Ash. 

“Where have you been?!” she asks over the loud music grabbing your arm.

“Saw someone I knew, sorry didn't mean to worry you!” you reply.

You spend the rest of the show enjoying the music with your friends but you can't help but feel the eyes peering into the back of your head. You didn’t dare turn around to see for yourself, afraid of what you might do if you looked into his eyes again. Something about him has turned you into putty.

You push the thoughts from your head and enjoy the rest of the show. As the house lights come up, Ash turns to you, wrapping her arms around you, “thank you soooo much for coming with us tonight. I miss you so much and I want to get together again soon.”

“I miss you too, you can call me anytime you want. You know I always answer.” you say hugging her back.

“Are you driving back tonight?” she asks.

“Yeah I am going to head out, you guys be careful okay?” you ask.

“We will, text me when you get back so I don't worry! Love you byeeee!” she says walking off with James’ arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. 

You wave goodbye and fish your phone from the bottom of your purse, checking your notifications quickly before shoving it back in. Nothing important. You grab your car keys and begin to make your way to the doors. 

As you walk past the sound booth you see Danny. He cuts his conversation off rushing to catch up with you. “Leaving? Where is your friend?” he asks, pulling you aside.

“Oh, she left with her boyfriend, but yeah I guess I’m going to head home.” you say looking at the logo on the chest of his t-shirt. Your eyes flick up to his. 

“Well, before you go, do you want to go get a drink with me?” he asks.

You think for a second…”Okay, just one, it's a long drive back.”

“Okay, I have to go tell them that I’m leaving, do you want to come with me or…” he asks nervously.

“Umm… sure I guess. What is it, every time I am with you I meet a band?” you laugh. 

“It seems that way doesn’t it?” he laughs, placing his hand on the small of your back leading you back inside the venue. The feel of his warm hand on you sends a radiating feeling of ease through your body.

He walks the both of you to the side of the stage and talks to security. They let you both through the door and you step into a narrow hallway. Danny pulls you by your hips to walk in front of him, pushing past other people to get to the green room.

“Jeeze, who knew rockstars had such accommodating quarters.” you joke.

“Not quite what you’d imagined, huh? Would you believe me if I told you this was nice?” he laughs back. 

You both step through the door of the green room. You hang back as he walks further inside. 

“Hey man, that was sick. You sounded awesome, even better than last time.” he says walking up and patting his back.

The guy flicks his eyes over to you and nods his head, you returning his hello with a smile.

“We are going to head out and get a drink. Text me when you guys are packed up, maybe we can meet up?” Danny asks.

“Yeah man, sounds good. I'll call you.” he says, as they both shake hands. 

Danny makes his way back over to you, sliding his hand back to the small of your back as you exit through the side door, out into the cool late summer air. 

“So where too?” he asks.

“Hmmm, you would probably know better than I would…somewhere with a good martini.” you reply.

“Ohhh, a martini girl, huh?” he asks, pondering. “I think I know of a place, just up the street.”

You walk side by side up the busy sidewalk, his hand ever so slightly brushing your fingers every odd step or so. A tingle running up your limb each time.

As you step up to the doorway, Danny quickly grabs the door handle opening it, letting you walk in first with him following after you.

The bar is more like a lounge, almost with a speakeasy type of vibe. It's low lit, and plush, it looks expensive and luxurious. You can hear jazz music playing towards the back of the building. There are a few faces you recognize from being at the show earlier and you feel like you’re in good company. As you approach the bar you quickly glance at the special cardstock menu sitting on the counter, browsing the cocktail selection just as a formality, knowing exactly what you will be having and knowing exactly what they do to you.

DANNY POV

“What would you like?” you ask her.

“A Manhattan, please.”  she replies.

Oh, not just a martini girl. A Manhattan girl. She really does have good taste.

The bartender steps over to you, listening to hear your selections.

“Hey man, can we get a Manhattan and I will do a Pernicious IPA” you say flashing him a kind smile. You have been here once before with the guys, Jake wanted a “speakeasy” experience. You liked it well enough, and you know the drinks are good. Seemed like the obvious choice. Had you known exactly what was going to happen tonight, you might have planned out something better.

You study her face as you wait for your drinks and you see her blush knowing that your gaze is fixed upon her. Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of dark pink. As the bartender places the drinks in front of you, you let him know to keep the tab open.

“Let’s go sit.” you say, letting her lead the way. You watch her as she walks, her skirt floating against her thighs like a feather.

She finds a fancy looking green velvet booth and slides into it, setting her drink on the little table in front of her. You slide in next to her and take a sip of your beer. Only a few inches of space separates you, your knees practically touching. The low lighting of the candle on the table glowing against the skin on her legs. 

“You know this is not how I saw this night going…” you laugh.

“That’s funny, that's what I said the night I met you.” she replies with a smirk.

“Ahhh, that night. It was fun, a good memory.” you say, thinking of her in the video like you have every night for weeks. But here you are now, with her somehow. Right in front of you.

She grabs her drink, pressing her lips to the sharp edge of the glass, letting the amber colored martini pass her lips. It is straight up sinful to watch her swallow the liquid down. A huff of air leaving her mouth, a sure sign of the burn in her throat.

“Well, is it up to par?” you ask.

“Golf jokes, huh? Do we have that in common too? It’s delicious. Thanks for taking me here.” she replies.

You furrow your brow because there is absolutely no way that she is a golfer, too. 

Right?

“Don’t tell me you know your way around the green?” you ask shocked.

She takes another sip of her martini, “Do you?” she asks coyly. A small laugh falling from her lips. You can tell the martinis are starting to affect her. 

“When I have spare time I have been seen on a course or two...” you smirk, hopefully.

“Well you’ll be intrigued to find out I was captain of the girls golf team in high school if that counts for anything. We definitely didn't win nationals or anything…” she giggles at her own joke and your heart flutters.

You want to reach out and touch her, just to make sure that she’s real. Resisting the urge you take another sip of your beer.

“Oh it counts, but now I’m wondering,  if you won nationals that means you are pretty good… I just might have to see for myself.” you say. 

“Are you proposing a challenge, Daniel Wagner?” she asks, hearing your full name tumble from her lips sends a twitch right between your legs. 

“I don't know how much of a challenge it would be, I’ve got a year or two on you. A few wins under my belt too. I think I could take ya…” you say playfully.

“I don't know Daniel, wouldn’t want you to be sad when I walk away with a better score… I’m willing to bet the only good wood in your bag is the pencil, darling.” she says flirtily, sending a rush of blood straight to your dick.

Holy shit. She is your personal wet dream.

You try to discreetly cross your legs and quip back, “Bold statement…you don’t know what kind of wood I’m swinging sugar… What’s in your bag?” you ask, intrigued to hear her answer.

“Well, when I graduated high school my parents gifted me a TaylorMade Premier set. Hasn’t failed me yet…” she says, pursing her lips together into a perfect pout.

Your dick hardens inexplicably at the mere thought of her swinging a nine iron.

“Ah, a woman with expensive taste… I like it. I am also a TaylorMade fan myself, but I do have a few Callaways floating around. Like to switch it up, you know?” you reply.

“No… I’m loyal, to a fault. Once I find something I like I…never look away.” she says sipping her martini, her sultry eyes peering into your own.

You swallow hard, “I am just really shocked, I knew you had good taste in music, but I would have never imagined you were a golfer as well. Please don't tell me you play any instruments…” you question, placing your empty beer on the table.

She turns the corner of her mouth up into a smug smile, “Fine… I won’t…” 

You can tell she is playing coy, so you turn your head to her, encouraging her to continue.

“If you must know, I took 10 years of piano, and I dabbled in guitar for a bit before the whole golfing thing really took over. I would say I am better at golfing than I am at piano, but I can still hold my own when put to the test.” she says. 

Ok, so basically she's your dream girl. Got it.

“Well color me impressed, you really are something.” you say, genuinely shocked.

“I was a bit of an overachiever in my youth, I just… wanted to please my parents I guess.” she says, sipping her drink. You can tell that the alcohol is helping to ease her nerves and open up a bit and you are hanging on her every word.

“Tell me about your family...” you ask.

“Well, let's see, I grew up in Ann Arbor with my parents and my older sister. My mom is a nurse and works at the hospital, and my dad is a chemist. Both of them are very smart and were at the top of their class in school, so they kind of expected that from us as well. I think that is why I chose the sports and extracurriculars that I did. They were things that only involved me and my skills. It was just me, only I could do it. I didn't have to rely on teammates, it all depended on me. Golf wasn't my first choice actually. It was between golf or swim team. I tried both, but I think after the first few days of golf lessons I kind of knew. I really fell in love with it. I knew that it was what I wanted to do, so I committed to it. The solitude, of being outside, walking the course on your own, just you and your thoughts. That little spark of excitement when hitting the ball just right, and getting the outcome you want. It wasn’t easy though, it took skill and determination and patience…all things I had to learn along the way. My friends didn't really understand though. I spent a lot of time practicing. I was always the quiet one in our friend group. Not because I had nothing to say, but it just came more naturally to me to observe and chime in when I knew my opinion mattered and would be heard. I have always kind of… shied to the back of situations. Never needed to be the center of attention. Never really wanted to be... Now that I think of it, if I hadn't stayed in the back of the crowd that day, I probably would have never met you. We wouldn't even be sitting here right now. You wouldn't be listening to me blab on and on about everything and nothing…I’m sorry. I’m talking a lot.” she says, starting to panic that maybe she has revealed too much of herself.

“Hey…” you stop her, sliding your hand over the top of her thigh, your fingers wrapping around it, resting right in the soft spot under her knee.

 “I get it. I understand. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but trust me when I say that everything that you are telling me,  is making me want to know you more and more. I am completely fascinated. You are talented and smart, and damn if you aren't beautiful to boot. Like… the perfect cherry on top.” You say with a soft smile.

Her cheeks blush a deep crimson, at the compliment she’s just received. 

God, she is so pretty.

“I’m going to get another drink, do you want one?” you ask her.

She bites her lip thinking about it, “Okay, maybe just one more.”

“Thatta girl.” you say, grabbing her empty glass and your empty bottle, returning them back to the bar. 

You order another round and your mind is reeling as you wait. 

How did this perfect woman just fall into my lap? Surely there has to be a catch? 

If there is, you haven't found it yet and you are praying to god that you don't. As you walk back to the booth, you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the night into the wee hours picking her brain to know everything you can about her, but you would be lying if you said you weren't exhausted from the long day. As you see her smile, that feeling washes away, suddenly you are feeling renewed by the twinkle in her eyes.

This time as you sit down, you snake your arm behind her to rest on the back of the seat, right above her shoulders. She instinctively turns closer to your side. 

She sips her drink, and a smile creeps across her lips.

“I think this one is even better than the last one.” she says, taking another sip. She is more smiley and much more talkative. The thought runs through your mind about her driving home, but you push it to the back.

“Good, it seems to have you in good spirits, no pun intended of course.” you say laughing.

She giggles next to you, so close to your ear a shiver runs through your body. The sound you have listened to in that video, countless times, not even holding a candle to the real thing. 

“So now your turn…” she says, “tell me about you…” she rests her head gently on your forearm, ready to listen to you talk.

“I grew up in Frankenmuth, so, not too far away from you. We all did actually, Josh, Jake, Sam… Sam and I were best friends. We did everything together, so when his brothers started the band, naturally Sam and I found our respective places within it. I have a little sister, and my mom and dad of course. I, like you, started playing golf pretty young. Really fell in love with it quickly, I had an amazing coach, we still even go play together sometimes when I’m home. Believe it or not, drums were not my first instrument. It was a guitar. I may play the drums as my job, but the guitar will always be my safe place, my home, I guess. I'm obviously also the quiet one in my friend group, I interject when needed of course, but I usually keep to myself. It’s just better that way. You know I was excited that none of the guys wanted to go with me that day to see The Strokes after the set. No one to make annoying jokes the whole time, or talk through the songs, but then I found myself next to you. Suddenly I was the one doing the talking through the songs. It’s probably one of the more outgoing moments I have had in a while. When I talked to you that day I had no idea that it would play on a continuous loop in my mind everyday since. I just can't seem to get you out of my head.” you say with a contented sigh, slightly nervous to reveal your hand to her.

She smiles at you, and lifts her head from your arm, taking another sip of her drink. 

“I have thought about it too. Also, I think I just might have your hoodie in my car. Remind me later to give it back to you.” she says.

“I told you to keep it. You look far better in it than I ever did.” you reply, your fingers grazing the back of her neck. A small, almost barely noticeable sigh leaves her lips at the feeling of your skin on hers. You continue to gently rub small circles into her neck hoping for just one more of those sinful little noises. 

Her lips press to the glass once again, and you find yourself staring. Watching as her lips press down on the rim, letting the alcohol pass through. You wonder what she tastes like, and you find yourself licking your own lips at the thought.

“I think that is subjective…” she says, running her tongue across the rim of the glass and licking the small drop from the side. 

“Well, I do remember you telling me a little something earlier…I guess I know your stance on the subject…” you say smugly, with a smirk.

She smirks and shrugs her shoulders just slightly before peering down into her glass, staring at the dark red cherry before flicking her eyes to yours. You can tell she is feeling the alcohol, the slight sway in her posture giving her away as she leans back into your arm. 

“Do you want to see a trick?” she asks, her words slightly running together. 

You raise your eyebrows in interest and nod, “Mhmm..” you hum, settling back into the booth.

She plucks the cherry from the bottom of her glass, placing it in her mouth almost painfully slow, definitely just to tease you.

She sets the empty glass on the table and closes her lips around the cherry. She sits back in the booth, crossing her arms across her chest. A concentrated look crosses her face, a slight crease between her brows as her mouth begins to move and contort into different shapes. 

As you watch her lips bend and move in different directions, you feel the blood rush to your pelvis once again. Her eyes are locked on yours and you couldn’t look away if your life depended on it. You are completely transfixed on this woman. Suddenly a look of satisfaction crosses her face. The crease in her brow disappears, and a new glow lights her eyes.

She opens her lips and pushes the cherry stem to slot between her top and bottom teeth. A perfect knot. 

Something snaps inside of you. Before you can even stop yourself you are leaning forward grabbing the end of the stem between your own teeth, taking it from hers. Your lips lightly brushing hers in the process. A gasp leaves her mouth at the sensation. You quickly pull the stem tightly between your two fingers, throwing it to the table as you cup her jaw in your hand, crashing your lips to hers. She leans into you deepening the kiss.

Your other hand, still resting on the back of her neck draws her in closer to you, as your lips explore every pillowy soft inch of hers. She rests her hand on your chest, and it scorches through your shirt like fire. Her tongue slides across your bottom lip asking for entrance, and you oblige letting her silky smooth tongue slide past your lips. As she whimpers into your mouth you all but melt around her. You can taste the alcohol on her tongue but more than that, the sweet taste of the cherry that was just tangled between her lips seconds before you were. 

Any fight you had left in you disappeared in a matter of seconds. Right here, right now you were completely at her mercy. But you couldn’t let her know that. You pull away from her, fighting every fiber of your being in the process. Her eyes search yours at the separation.

“You taste so sweet…I knew you would…Just like cherry. A perfect cherry.” you say before pressing your lips to hers again, this time a soft barely there kiss gently grazing her now full pink lips. As you pull away this time her hand slides up to rest on your neck and she cranes her head to the side, placing her lips on the shell of your ear.

“The cherry is the best part…” she whispers as her hand slides back down the front of your body. Your back tenses as the goosebumps travel across your body.

Oh, she has you right where she wants you. 

That last martini is hitting her pretty hard, and you can tell. She has completely lost all her inhibitions and she is completely gorgeous. A smile hasn’t left her face. 

“One more?” she asks. 

“Alright, one more…” you reply playfully.

As you stand up to walk to the bar, she stands up with you. Her hand brushes yours, almost like an invitation, so you take it. You twist your fingers into the soft skin of her palm before slotting your fingers between hers. As you step out, she stays close behind you. You walk up to the bar hand in hand, sliding her in front of you once you reach the bar top, resting your hands on her waist. The bartender asks what you would like and you order one more Manhattan, and a whiskey for yourself, knowing you will need something stronger than beer if you want to catch up with her.

You close out the tab, sliding your card to the bartender and signing the receipt. You grab your drinks and turn away from the bar. You place your hand on her back and let her walk in front of you until you reach the small stage in the back, holding a small Jazz band.

She sits at a small table just off to the side of the stage and crosses her legs, slipping her drink. You have to give it to her, she is putting away these martinis. They are definitely affecting her though, more than she would let you know.

A few couples are dancing to the slow jazz music, twirling and spinning along with the saxophone. She looks at you and raises an eyebrow. You take a gulp of your whiskey and you feel her foot gently slide up the inside of your calf and you smile at her suspiciously. You pretend to not notice as she continues and you watch the band intently. She throws back the rest of her drink and sets her glass on the table with a loud clink. 

As you look at her she has the cherry resting between her teeth, and she sucks it into her mouth staring directly into your eyes. You swallow in anticipation. She rolls her tongue around the dark red fruit before chewing it up slowly and methodically. You watch as she swallows it and feel your dick twitch in your jeans. 

“You really love those…. don't you, cherry…” you say with a devilish smirk. The pet name is so fitting for her at the moment.

My cherry….

Her eyes are glazed over and her cheeks are flushed. You can tell she is in absolutely no state to drive, and you kick yourself for letting her pass her limit. She is starting to get spacey and blink slowly. You feel a bit happy though, that she felt comfortable enough with you to let loose a little bit.

You reach your hand over and place it on top of hers, “Hey… are you ready to go?” you ask.

“I don’t know if I can yet…” she slurs. She is slightly swaying in her chair.

“Oh, no…there is no way you’re driving tonight.” you state, helping her stand from her chair.

“I don't…No, I–....” she tries to argue with you, and it’s sort of endearing.

“I’m staying at a hotel just up the street, you can just… stay with me. You can sleep in the bed. I will take the couch.” you say rubbing your hand over her shoulder.

You pull your phone out and call an Uber as you make your way to the front of the bar. As you step outside she turns to you. She is really drunk. Maybe that last one wasn’t a great idea.

“I can’t stay…. With you Danny. You don't… even… know me...” she strings the words together in a broken sentence. 

Shit. Think.

“Okay... You don't have to stay. But just… come sit in my room until you feel like you can drive. How about that?” You ask, hoping she will agree.

She squints her eyes at you “Okay, just for a minute.”

Thank god.

The Uber pulls up and you usher her inside, following behind her. As you buckle your seat belt you feel her hand reach for yours, and you grab it, smiling as you look out the window. It's a short ride to the hotel,  and right about now you are thanking yourself profusely for getting it. 

About two minutes away, you feel her rest her head on your shoulder letting out a deep sigh. You find yourself suddenly wishing it were a longer ride. You trace the outlines of her fingers with your index finger, studying the shape of her fingers, feeling the rough calluses on her palms and fingers from the grip of a golf club, similar to the ones that adorn your own hands.

The car pulls up in front of the hotel, and you thank the driver, as you wait for her to slide out of the door.

You put your arm around her shoulder and walk into the front door of the building. As you get to the elevator you press the button and step inside as the doors open. Releasing your arm from around her, you search for your room key in your wallet, pulling out the shiny blue plastic. 

The doors open on your floor and you can tell she is still feeling floaty and relaxed. You escort her down the hallway, placing your key to the door when you find your room. You open the door, and she saunters inside, dropping her purse on the chair by the door.

You shut the door and lock it behind you, before stepping into the bathroom to pee. You have been holding it practically all night, not wanting to take your eyes off of her for a second. Scared she might disappear. 

Finally emptying your bladder, you wash your hands and return to the room. What you find is exactly what you hoped. She has passed out right in the middle of the fluffy white bed. At least now you don't have to worry about her driving. You place your phone and wallet on the dresser and turn off the overhead light, letting the room be lit only by a lamp in the corner.

You sit next to her on the bed and grab her ankle, carefully undoing the buckle on her sandal, and sliding it off her foot. You repeat with the other side, tossing the shoe to join the other on the floor. 

You release her feet and they both hang off the edge of the bed, you shake your head and smile. 

She had to know what was going to happen after three martinis…

You grab your bag off the floor and dig through it looking for your toiletry bag. You unzip it and search for your Advil, shaking two out and closing the lid. You grab a bottle of water off of the dresser and place it, and the two Advil on the nightstand.

You gently hook your hands under her arms and pull her upwards to rest her head on the pillows, before you slide the comforter out from under her, and up and over her body. 

There, now she’s comfortable.

You grab your clothes out of your bag and throw them on the couch, while you plug in your phone charger. Plugging in your phone you see a missed call and realize you totally forgot you said you might be able to meet up. 

Yikes, I will text him in the morning.

You walk back over to the couch, untying your own shoes, and kicking them off. You pull your shirt over your head before you move to unclasp your belt buckle and slide your jeans down your legs, kicking them off to meet your shoes. You walk over to the closet and look for the extra pillow and blankets, securing both under your arms before returning to the couch. You turn the lamp off and settle into the couch perfectly content knowing that the girl you haven't been able to get out of your head for weeks, is sleeping peacefully 6 feet away.

HER POV

Your eyes flick open, dry like sandpaper. Your mouth is watering and your stomach churning. Your skin is clammy and your limbs are shaking. The overwhelming urge to run to the bathroom takes over your brain. You throw the blankets off of you and swing your feet to the floor, but your surroundings are unfamiliar.

Where am I?

Your eyes search the pitch black darkness for anything remotely familiar, and you see him. Pieces of the night flooding back to you as you spot him lying on the couch. 

Your feet sprint to the bathroom, flinging the door open and spilling your guts into the toilet. 

Martinis…

You stopped keeping track after the second one. 

Why can't I just drink vodka cranberries like everyone else?

You continue to retch into the bowl, when you feel a hand reaching out to pull the hair from your face, holding it behind you. 

Danny.

His warm hand finds a place on your back and begins rubbing soothing motions up and down the length. 

“You’re okay. Just get it out and you’ll feel better.” he says in a soft, sleepy voice.

You nod your head and sit there for a second to make sure you’re done. When nothing else comes you sit back onto your butt, and pull a towel from the bar above your head. Danny grabs it from you, standing up and running it under the warm water from the sink, before squatting down and handing it back to you.

As you wipe your mouth, he places his hands on your knees, which are now cold from the tile floor.

“Are you okay?” he asks, rubbing circles on the tops of your legs. 

“No, I am horribly embarrassed.” you say. You go to stand up, and he grabs your arm pulling you up with him. That's when you notice that he is standing in front of you just in his boxers. 

“Don’t be. The drinks were strong, you said it yourself.” he replies, his hand smoothing down the length of your arm. 

“What time is it?” you ask.

He steps over to the counter and grabs his watch bringing it close to his face in the low light.

“4:34” he says, placing it back down. 

“Wow, I am so sorry.” you say completely mortified. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I will leave you alone to clean up or do whatever. Then you can go back to sleep, and you’ll feel about a hundred times better in the morning.” he says, sliding back through the bathroom door. “I will be out here.”

You walk to the sink and splash cool water on your face, and in your mouth. 

I cannot believe I just threw up in front of Daniel Wagner.

You grab the complimentary mouthwash from the counter and swish it around your mouth for a few minutes in lieu of a toothbrush. 

That's as good as it's going to get, I guess.

You are feeling much better now, but you are extremely tired and can think of nothing else except slipping back into that bed. 

As you reenter the room, you see Danny has pulled on a pair of sweatpants and is sitting on the couch, with his hands behind his head just passing the time until you came out of the bathroom.

When he sees you step out, he sits up and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“I don't know if you… if you want, I… put a clean t-shirt on the bed for you… I just figured you might feel…” he stammers.

“Thank you, I… I do. Although if you keep giving me all your clothes you’re going to have nothing to wear, soon.” you say playfully smiling.

Even in the dark, you can see his smile beaming back at you.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better. I’ll just… turn around or close my eyes or something.” he says laughing.

You hastily slide your skirt off and pull your top over your head. You unclasp your bra and pull his t-shirt over your body. You are instantly hit with the heady aroma of him wafting from his shirt, and you know you’ll be able to fall asleep quickly. You sit down on the edge of the bed and let him know that he is fine to open his eyes. He nervously does and turns to look at you.

“Perfect, are you more comfortable now?” he asks.

“Yeah, I am. Thank you….for not letting me drive… and for letting me stay here.” you stammer on.

“It took a little bit of convincing…” he says playfully.

“I’m sure…well anyways, thank you.” you smile at him.

“You’re welcome.” he says, laying back down and trying to get comfortable on the small couch.

You snuggle back into the fluffy blankets, and can't help but watch him toss and turn on the small couch failing to get comfortable.

You toss and turn yourself, a thousand thoughts running through your head. You watch the minutes on the clock tick by and you are pretty sure that neither you nor Danny is asleep. A deep sigh leaves your lips.

“What’s wrong, cherry? You still feel bad?” his sleepy voice calls out.

Cherry...

That part of the evening flashes back to you and a warmth creeps over your body.

“I’m not sure, maybe so. I just… would you…can you come lay with me?” you ask.

“Of course.” he says, standing up, and walking to the other side of the bed. You feel it dip down as he settles himself next to you, stretching out his legs and running a hand down the length of your back. Both of you letting out a contented sigh. 

You turn over under the blankets to face him, and he turns his head to you. You both just stare at each other for a few seconds before he opens his arms up, signaling for you to come closer to him.

You inch closer, spinning in his arms to be the little spoon. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, and you can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest against you. He is clearly feeling the same way you do. His head settles behind yours and you can feel his breath against your hair. After a few minutes, his body relaxes and you can tell he is falling asleep. You breathe in deeply the smell of him wrapped around you, and find your eyes shutting faster than anticipated lulling you into your own slumber.

The morning comes too soon, the sun pouring through the window and waking you up. Your head is pounding and you can tell that you’ll be feeling the effects of last night for the remainder of the day. You look to your left and see the Advil and water that Danny must have left out for you. 

Danny. Where is he?

Noticing the light illuminating the strip of space under the bathroom door, you realize that he is still here. Moments later you hear the sink turning on and off and he comes out of the door. You sit up in the bed and try to tame the wild hair you have going on. 

“Morning... How are you feeling?” he breaks the silence. You notice he stays near the door of the bathroom, keeping a generous distance from you.

“I’ve seen better days.” you laugh lightly. “Thank you for leaving me the meds and water, I needed that.” 

He exhales in agreement and gives a half-hearted smile. He isn’t meeting your eyes and his demeanor is so different from the confident, sweet man you spent the night with. 

Am I forgetting something that happened last night? He spent the night in bed with me, what changed?

Oh god. He’s probably so annoyed that he had to watch after me, I should never have had that last drink. I can’t believe I embarrassed myself in front of him like that. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I know you didn’t sign up to take care of me, and I feel horrible for overdoing it. I’ll get my things and get out of your way, I’m sure you have a lot going on.” you say quickly. “Do you mind turning around so I can get dressed?” 

“Oh, uh yeah. No problem.” his cheeks turn pink and he turns around towards the bathroom door.

I have to get out of here immediately. 

You jump off the bed and put on your clothes from the night before at record speed. Grabbing your purse and slinging it over your shoulder. 

“Okay, all good. Again, thanks for letting me stay last night, and I am so sorry for how the night ended. It's definitely not what I intended...” you move towards the door and grab onto the handle, looking back at him.

“No worries, I’m glad I could help.” his eyes meet yours and he offers a weak smile. “I’ll see you at the show in a few weeks then?”

After last night, I don’t know if I will ever show my face in front of him again… 

“Yeah, see you then... Bye, Danny.” you say with a soft smile, turning your back to him and rushing out the door.

What the hell was that?

.

.

.

.

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #jacob thomas kiszka #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #greta van fluff #jmk x reader #gvf smut #gvf fic #gvf series #jake gvf #sam kiszka gvf #gvf #josh gvf #sam gvf #gvf danny #jacob kiszka #drw x reader #gretavangroupie #crave #muse #struck

[flowersarefreetherapy]

Hold On: Drive Your Young Mind Crazy

CW: Dysfunctional family dynamics, depression, romanticization of the BBU system, that weird breed of dysfunction that large homeschooling families have

Someone runs past his room, screaming at the top of their lungs. He presses his hands over his ears, staring at the math problems he has been working on for the last hour. Only two of them have been completed. Another kid runs by screaming. 

“Shut up!” Logan yells at the door. “I’m trying to, to, to, um, to do my homework!”

“Don’t tell me to shut up or I’ll tell Mom you didn’t make dinner!”

He screams into his book. He wasn’t able to make dinner because he had to go get Leon from football practice, then Mary Ann wanted to go to the park, then Lisa and Louis needed help with their homework and by then it was six o’clock. It was all he could do to throw snacks at the kids and turn on the television for a few seconds of peace. 

Apparently it wasn’t to last.

“Don’t you, don’t you dare!”

“Then don’t yell at me!”

He swallows back another scream and turns his attention to his homework. He still has to finish his math homework, then read the book for English and start the essay that was due last week. His Spanish homework lies forgotten in his bag. He’s failing the co-op class, but has no time to make up for the missed homework. It’s all he can do to keep his head above water focusing on just math and English. 

Logan raises his head and stares at the posters on the wall. None of them are his. They’re all his younger brothers’ who share the room with him. Nothing in this room is his. Just the top bunk in the corner and the dresser drawer he has to fit all his clothes in. 

“Logan!”

The door slams open and he yelps, dropping his pencil. “Edward!”

“Where’s my shoes? Erin wants to take us to the park again and I can’t find my shoes!”

“Check the, the closet.” 

Edward steps on the edge of his notebook, crumpling the page. Logan sucks in a deep breath, his nose burning with the familiar promise of tears. He presses the heel of his hand against his eyes, desperate to keep from breaking down. Again. 

If this happens again, we’re taking away your phone until you can focus on helping your siblings. You’re the oldest. This is part of your job. 

“Mom doesn’t get home for two more hours,” Edward throws over his shoulder. “Do you think we’ll have enough time to get there and come back?” 

“Yes,” Logan whispers, praying his voice doesn’t crack. It’s started doing that recently and everyone seems amused by it every time. 

“Logan? What’s this?”

Edward steps back, holding his shoes in one hand and a magazine in the other. The blood drains from Logan’s face when he sees it. 

“Nothing!” he gasps, yanking it from his brother’s hand. “It, it’s nothing.”

“Isn’t that Dad’s sports magazine? Why do you have it in the back of the closet?” 

“No reason. Stop, stop asking!”

Edward rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Be weird about it.”

Logan clutches the magazine until his brother leaves the room. His palms stick to the pages with sweat and his heart races so quickly he can feel it in his toes. He sets it down gently, hating why he kept it even after his father wanted to throw it away. 

It’s his fifteenth birthday soon and his family is always asking when he is going to get a girlfriend, if there’s a girl he finds cute. He doesn’t know how to respond. How to answer that it isn’t a girl who’s caught his gaze, but Phil in second period whose hair is always falling into his face and he has to hold it back with a clip? There’s no way he can. Just another thing he keeps to himself. 

Along with the flier further back in the closet he’s so thankful Edward didn’t see. He found it on the edge of the football field. Glossy, bold gray lettering, a phone number he’s stared at so many times he practically has it memorized by now. Along with the nearest WRU location. It’s an option.

You shouldn’t talk like that. The counselor. Sitting on a hard plastic chair. The walls a stupid bright color that hurts his eyes. You have a whole life ahead of you. One that’s full of potential and possibility.

There’s nothing for him here. Just responsibility and pressure and taking care of his siblings as if he was their parent instead of their actual parents. 

That’s unfair. You know they’re working so much to keep a roof over your head and the lights on. 

Doesn’t change the fact they missed my birthday last year. 

Instead, they worked double shifts and he had to watch his siblings all day. 

Logan presses his forehead to his knees, rocking back and forth. Tears run silently down his face. There’s no way he’ll be able to focus on his homework now. He crawls into his bed. Presses his face into his pillow, phone clutched tightly in his hands, and cries. 

He can fail the essay and the test and his math quiz. It’s okay. What does it matter? He has nothing to look forward to anyway. At the end of the day he’ll still be here, trapped in this house, watching the clock for his uncaring parents to come back. 

He runs a hand through his hair, pretending it's someone else. He’s seen them before. In shows and movies and music videos. They are happy and excited, master or mistress right there beside them, giving them attention. What would that be like? To have someone give their undivided attention to him? His eyes burn at the thought, tears sliding down his cheek. 

Someday, that’ll be me. Someday. 

Tagging: @blood-is-compulsory @darkthingshappen @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @whumpinggrounds @pigeonwhumps (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#dysfunctional family dynamics #depression #bbu universe #bbu #star my beloved #hold on: i still need you #me? Putting vicarious trauma into my stories? #it’s more likely than you think!

[scrawlingwithstyle]

One Good Turn (3/?)

The story of how “you,” an apparently average person, join the Avengers. A Marvel fanfiction based on my friend’s recurring dream.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1219

Tags: @arrow-guy 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Your next stop is a sterile lab.

A man with glasses and curly, salt-and-pepper hair looks up as you enter and smiles warmly.

“So you’re the one who helped out on the subway!” he says, standing and approaching you. “I’m Dr. Banner.” He extends a hand. “Bruce.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” he replies. “Would you mind taking a seat? This will only take a few minutes.”

Steve leans on the wall by the door while you pull up a stool.

“Do you donate blood?” the doctor asks, opening a kit. You notice the collection tubes before he pulls out a syringe.

Your stomach turns and you grip the edges of your seat. “Are you taking any?”

His eyebrows draw together in concern. “I’m beginning to think maybe I shouldn’t. Are you alright?”

You take a deep breath to curb your nausea as he hides the needle from your view. “I donate sometimes, but I usually have to prepare myself mentally.”

He nods, puts the syringe back in the kit and closes it. “What about one of those DNA kits—the kind for learning your heritage?”

“Is that what we’re doing? A DNA test?” you ask, loosening your grip on the edges of the stool.

“Yes,” he says, rummaging in a drawer. He pulls out a tiny plastic cup and draws a line across it with a sharpie. “It’d be a little harder to test, but saliva works too. Fill it to the line. It helps to imagine eating sour candy.”

You take the cup and start spitting. “What are you testing for?” you ask.

“The possibility of developing innate powers,” he replies. “None of us Avengers are like that, but there are lots of people in the world who are.”

You work up a bit more saliva before you ask. “You’re an Avenger?”

A wry grin spreads across his face. “You’d probably recognize me better when I’m green.”

“Wait . . .” You set the cup on the counter. “You’re the Hulk?”

Banner puts a lid on your cup and nods. “Mm-hm.”

“How do you change so much?” you ask. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head in dismissal. “Right now isn’t a great time to talk about him. You probably still have a long day ahead of you, and you won’t run out of questions anytime soon.”

You stand and shake his hand again before following Steve out.

“Was he kidding?” you ask. “Is he really the Hulk, or is he just messing with me?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, but he smiles. “Yeah. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but he is the Hulk.”

You follow him down a series of hallways before you reach another room. It’s a wide-open gym space, brightly lit with fluorescent bulbs. On the far end, the heavy equipment gives way to a bare area, with only a thick mat on the floor. Nearest the mat is a set of punching bags. Natasha is stretching nearby, using what appears to be a stool to overextend her splits. You have to hold back a low whistle. It’s not every day you see someone that flexible.

“Oh,” she says as she catches sight of you and Steve. “You’re already done. How did it go?”

“It ‘remains to be seen,’” you reply, using air quotes.

She grins, switching her position to stretch the other way. “That sounds about right.”

Steve leaves you with her, stating that he’ll be waiting in the lobby area to take you home.

“We won’t be long,” Natasha says as he walks away.

Once she gets up, she says, “You’re not really prepared for physical training today, so I’ll just show you around.”

“Hard to be prepared when an Avenger just shows up on my doorstep,” you reply with a half-grin.

She gives a short laugh. “Fair.” She shows you the different machines and equipment, then leads you down past some weightlifting equipment to a couple of doors, and pulls a key out of her pocket. “These are the locker rooms. This is the key to your locker.”

You look down and see that your key has a number etched into the head. It seems pretty straightforward. “Thanks.”

“When you come to train with me, make sure to bring a change of clothes. We have showers and provide towels.” She nods her head toward the door. “If you want to explore the locker room a bit, you can, but it’s not like it’s a maze in there.”

You shrug. “I’ll worry about that next time.”

She nods. “Alright.” She walks you toward the exit. “Do you remember where the elevators are?”

You glance at the door as you recall the route you walked to get here. “Uh… yeah.”

“Great. The lobby is a straight shot from there. See you!”

You wave and turn to go out the door. Finding the elevator is a little harder than you thought, but it doesn’t take long.

As he told you, Steve is waiting for you in the front of the lobby, and someone is chatting with him. “Oh, there they are,” he says as he catches a glimpse of you.

You give a small wave to the other person as you approach.

“Hi, I’m Clint,” he says, offering a hand.

You shake it and give your name. “Hawkeye, right?”

He nods, a slight smile flashing across his face.

The reality is finally starting to hit that every person you’ve met in the last couple of hours is a fucking Avenger. “I… I used to love archery as a kid,” you stammer, suddenly unable to think of a single other normal thing to say. “I never got very good at it,” you add, feeling your face flush, “but it was fun.”

He gives a wry smile, but doesn’t respond directly. “Nice to meet you,” he says as Steve opens the door. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again later.”

You nod and wave as you turn to walk, not trusting your mouth anymore.

As you get to the car, Steve asks, “So how are you feeling?”

You don’t even need to think before you answer. “Nervous as hell.”

He chuckles. “You’ll get used to it.”

You grimly press your lips together. “I might.”

After he pulls out onto the street, he reaches into his pocket. “I almost forgot.” He pulls out a key card. “You’ll need this to get into the tower when you come alone. Don’t lose it.”

You scramble for your wallet to put it away before you forget.

He chats with you about your availability for the next few weeks before dropping you off at your apartment building. You're expected almost every day for at least the first week, whenever you have time. You hold back a sigh. There goes your after-work wind-down time for the week.

“I’ll let Nat know when to expect you, then,” he says as you open your door.

“Thanks,” you reply. “See you later!”

He waves as you shut the door.

The moment you reach your apartment and shut the door behind you, you suck in a deep breath and let out a long groan. This is either going to be the coolest thing you’ve ever done, or the scariest. Maybe both. You think it’s safest to bet on both.

#I feel like a goddamn fanfiction.net author's note #''sorry the update took so long. my dad died and i got diagnosed with ADHD'' #sorry this chapter is a bit shorter #pretty sure the next one is gonna be a long one #fanfiction #marvel #avengers #reader-insert #I hope the writing is close enough to the same as the other two #It's harder to write introspection when there's so much going on #also i'm not sure how the separation bar is going to work now in the new post editor #I have to do a blank line with strikethrough for now because it's being a pain in the ass

[sagethebnuuy]

Chapter 5

Jaxon went back to his dorm, forgetting all about dinner and Ember. He sat down at his desk and took his books back out, studying the pages once again. A few hours later, he heard a knock on his door. He waited before opening it, hoping that whoever was would go away. Once he was certain that there wouldn’t be anyone there, they carefully opened the door a crack. When he didn’t see anyone standing there, he looked down to see a tied plastic bag. He picked it up and took it inside, setting it on his bed. He untied the bag and saw a foam take-out container with a note attached to the top.

Figured you lost track of time. Hope you had a good day. Make sure you eat and take breaks. See you later :) -Em

Jax smiled. Of course Ember would do something like this. Leaving food outside his door—that was so like xem. They took the container out of the bag and opened it. Inside, there was macaroni and cheese, apple slices, and a few other small snacks. He felt his cheeks warm when he realized how much xe cared for him. He felt guilty for leaving xem alone at dinner, but that guilt was short-lived. He sat back down at his desk and continued reading.

The next day was Sunday. Jaxon woke up early that morning and emptied his bag. He left his room with his empty bag, heading straight for the asylum.

As soon as he got there, he did not hesitate to push the door open and go inside. He proceeded to roam the crumbling building, picking up photographs, scattered files, and other documents and stuffing them into his bag. He turned the place upside down in his search—hell, he didn’t even know what he was searching for. He just knew he needed answers and he would find them here.

As his investigation came to a close, he felt himself being drawn to the warden’s office. He carefully stepped inside, almost as if he was expecting the room to have changed since he was there last. He looked around, circling the old mahogany desk. He opened all the drawers in the desk, taking everything he found. He then turned to the filing cabinet against the wall. He pulled open all the drawers to find dozens of patient files. They were sorted in alphabetical order by last name. Pretty standard, he thought. None of the files jumped out to him—until he reached the bottom drawer. In the back, behind all the others, were about thirteen files. Each one had a small star drawn on the tab. Instead of names, they were labeled with numbers. He carefully placed all of the files in his bag, scanning around the room again before he left the building. Seeing nothing else of interest, he left.

While he walked back to the dorms, he thought about what the files could be. Why were they labeled with numbers? What did the stars mean? There were so many questions running through his mind as the sound of crunching leaves filled the air. It was autumn in Brockenhurst, and the scenery was beautiful. When he arrived back at the dorms, he went straight up to his room, where he found Ember waiting for him.

“Hey! Where have you been?” xe asked, tilting xyr head curiously. Jaxon hurriedly tried to come up with a lie. 

“I was just taking a walk. I needed some fresh air,” he said hesitantly. Xe laughed.

“With your school bag? Yeah, okay. Whatever man,” xe replied lightheartedly. He unlocked his dorm room and xe followed him inside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Don’t you remember? We always meet up on Sundays. It’s our thing.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry, my thoughts have been sorta jumbled recently.” Xe patted his shoulder.

“It’s no big deal, I just wanted to make sure you would be at dinner tonight. I was worried when you didn’t show up last night. What were you doing, anyway?”

“Just reading. I lost track of time.” That wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. Jaxon hated lies.

“Oh, neat! What were you reading?”

“Just some history stuff, nothing too special.” Xe rolled xyr eyes.

“You and your history books. The present matters just as much as the past, y’know, if not more,” Ember sighed. Jaxon smiled.

“I agree to a certain extent. The present matters, yes, but not more than the past. The past is what shaped the present, making it more important.” Xe shook xyr head. This debate went on for a while until Jaxon’s stomach growled.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry. Let’s go eat. You didn’t eat anything last night, I bet.”

“You may be right, you may not. You’ll never know,” he said, bumping his shoulder against xyrs. Xe smiled, a faint blush dusting xyr cheeks.

“Whatever,” xe replied with a smile.

The two of them headed down to the cafeteria. They got their food and sat down at their usual table. They started talking about their weekends. Eventually, Ember asked what Jaxon had been up to. He smiled.

“I already told you, remember? I’ve just been reading and studying history,” he said. Ember gave him a knowing look.

“What were you actually doing? There’s no way you were reading history books all weekend.” He frowned.

“I was. I don’t understand why you don’t believe me.”

“Because I know you. You’re a terrible liar, Jax.” Jaxon felt himself getting angry.

“I’m telling the truth, Ember. You’re overthinking this.”

“No, you’re not. Something’s been going on with you, and I want to know what it is.” He glared at xem.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m just fine? And even if there was something going on, which there isn’t, why would I tell you? All you do is pester me. It gets on my nerves, honestly,” he snapped. Ember looked hurt.

“Is…is that really how you feel…?” xe asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, it is.” He turned on his heel and left the cafeteria, leaving the redhead confused and hurt.

#dino writes #immortal dino

[hallelujahmeatgod]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WHEN YOU PRANK THEM TELLING THEM YOU DON’T WANT TO SHARE A STRAW

+warning/s: There’s really none, just cursing is all.

+word count: 2227

+note: The characters are very random because they’re the first ones I had an idea for. I want to write for the other ones too, so please do tell me what you guys think about this one. 

KUROO

"What did you just say?" He asked, eyes wide from shock.

"I said, grab another straw if you want to take a sip of my drink. I don't want to share a straw." I said, as calmly as I can, immediately looking away from him. Because Lord knows I just want to laugh at his dumbfounded face right now.

He gave me a sarcastic laugh. A laugh that says "are you serious right now?"

I raised a brow at him acting like I don't have a clue as to why he's acting the way he is. 

And that was the last straw for him.

"So you literally shove your tongue down my throat and you wouldn't share a straw with me? What's that about?" He said angrily, looking at me with daggers in his eyes.

I laughed and instantly covered his mouth, looking around at the café. "Bitch, shut your mouth. I was just playing with you." I whisper-yelled, while trying to control my laughter.

He rolled his eyes and snatched away my drink. Muttering a "not funny" under his breath, as I continue laughing at him.

KIYOOMI

"Can I try yours?" Omi asked calmly.

I nodded, but before he could grab my drink I pulled it back a bit. "Oh-- can you not use my straw though?" I said as innocently as I can. 

He rolled his eyes at me then scoffed. I thought he's actually gonna get riled up, but that's until he said "Brave of you to assume that I'll share a straw with you."

I gave him a dumb look. What?

He raised his brows at me, a sly smirk making its way to his lips. "I'm literally afraid of all kinds of germs, and you are no exception." 

Did I really just forget that I'm in a relationship with a germaphobe?

"Whatever" I said, pouting.

I handed him a new straw but then he gave me a look of disgust. 

Can I be any more disgusting to this guy?

"Now you're trying to give me a plastic straw? You turtle murderer! Get that animosity away from me." He said, as he dramatically whipped a metal one from his bag. 

Just how many does he have in his bag?

"Now, repent from your sins and start using this babe." 

BOKUTO

"WHAT?!" His dramatic ass yelled.

"Sit your ass down, right now!" I ordered like a mom.

I pulled him back beside me on the couch as he looked at me sadly.

"What do you mean we can't share a straw? We kiss all the time though and we share more saliva doing that than just sharing a straw." He pouted. 

Which is so cute that I had to stop myself from just pinching his cheeks and hugging him.

"I just don't want to share a straw today, okay? Just get another one. I have some in one of the drawers in the kitchen." I said, scrolling through my phone so that it'll seem like it's not a big deal.

I kept on scrolling, but then I realized after a while that he's still beside me.

 When I looked at him, I KID YOU NOT, there's tears welling on his eyes threatening to fall. His lips even quivering as he tried holding back the tears.

I instantly held his face and pulled him close. "Oh my, Bo, what's wrong?"

When asked he became more emotional and the tears finally fell. "You wouldn't share a straw with me." He said, sobbing. So I pulled him into a hug.

"Bo, stop crying. I was literally just joking, no need to cry you big baby." I said, chuckling lightly as I ruffled his hair.

He instantly pulled away, looking at me expectantly. "Huh? You're not for real? I can use your straw? You're not disgusted?" He asked and I nodded, giving him a warm smile.

He jumped at me and gave me a bear hug. "I don't like that joke though" He said, pulling away enough so he could look at me.

"I'm sorry, Bo. I won't do it again."

"YAYYYYYY!" He exclaimed, as snot trickled down from his nose. This kid.

"Let's wipe that snot away first though before you come close to my straw, yeah?"

OIKAWA 

(Now this is about to turn into a soap opera. Everyone knows this dude is the queen of all drama queens)

"Tooru, baby, use another straw." I said, not even sparing him a glance. Eyes focused on the anime we’re watching.

No reply. No reaction. No movements for a solid moment.

Eventually, he sighed then stood up. I heard him shuffling around so I thought he's actually gonna grab a straw for himself. Y'know, be compliant for once?

But since we're talking about a professional drama queen here, that obviously isn't happening. Duh.

"28th of August, in the year of the Lord. It's a warm afternoon, an afternoon filled with sunlight. Everything's bright, sunny, and happy. But just as everything is fitting into place, everything turned dark '' He monologues, standing at my balcony.

Oh Lord, save me.

"It is on that one afternoon, that Oikawa Tooru's heart has been shattered into million little pieces. It's shattered so good that no glue, not even E6000 glue, can put it back together." He continued, fake crying. Looking back at me once in a while to see if I'm looking at his drama. Then just exaggerating even more, putting his all into it.

I rolled my eyes at him, completely done with him.

"I thought there was love. I thought we felt the same way, that we're on the same page. But I was greatly mistaken! Nothing's fine. I'm torn. I'm all out of faith and this is how I feel. I'm cold and I'm ashamed, not lying naked on the floor-- but I'll think about it. Illusions never change into something real--"

"DUMBASS JUST TAKE A FUCKING SIP. JUST SHUT UP"

And that's all that needs to be said. He darted towards me and easily drank half of my drink, cuddling next to me.

"Now is that hard? It isn't right?" He teased, which earned him a solid smack on the head.

ASAHI

"Grab another straw for you to use, Asahi" I called out to him as he stood up to get some more snacks after he announced that he wanted to try my drink.

"What did I do this time?" He asked quietly when he got back, dropping the snacks on the table.

"What do you mean? Did you do anything?" I asked him back.

He crouched down in front of me so we're at eye level. "You just told me to use another straw. So what did I do, woman?"

At this I immediately broke into a fit of laughter, which made him confused yet concerned. 

"You're scaring me right now babe."

"Ohhh~ Asahi, you really are too precious." 

"Are you being sarcastic right now? Is that you getting more angry at me for whatever reason? Wait! Are you actually angry at me? What did I do--"

"YO! Breathe." I clamped a hand on his mouth. "Who said I was angry?"

"Well you don't wanna share a straw so I'm assuming you hate me right now" He shrugged.

I ruffled his hair and lightly pinched his cheek. 

"I was just messing with you, so no need to be a panic mess." I reassured, caressing his face ever so softly.

His face instantly calmed as he leaned onto my hand. "Don't do that. You know I panic easily over the smallest things. I was about to have a heart attack." he pouted.

I kissed his cheek and offered him my drink, and he happily took a sip.

"Wait till Daichi hears this" I chuckled, earning a groan from him as he hid his face from me.

KAGEYAMA

I'm getting so impatient. 

Impatient for Kageyama to ask for a sip of my drink so I can mess with him.

Why wouldn't he just ask? He kept on eyeing it yet still wouldn't ask for a sip.

"You know, eyeing my drink like that wouldn't make you taste it. If you want a sip, get another straw." I said as if I don't care, when in reality I'm watching his every move and expression.

His eyes then diverted from the drink to me, raising a brow. What's he raising his brow for?

"Bold of you to assume I'd like any of that." He said lazily.

Me=Jaw dislocated.

I looked at him not knowing what to say. What does he mean? 

"Huh?" Was all my dumbass could muster.

"As if I'd drink that '' He said, sticking out his tongue in disgust. He took a sip from his milk and smiled, completely satisfied. "I'm all good with my milk, it makes my bones stronger. You can close your mouth now." 

"B-but you kept on eyeing it"

"Yeah I did. Cause I was asking myself how someone can even consider that a drink."

USHIJIMA

"Can I please have a small sip of your drink? That seems like a new flavor I have yet to try. So if you don't mind." Ushijima asked beside me, looking straight into my eyes as he did so.

Does he really have to be this serious and proper asking for a sip? 

I'll never understand how his robotic self works, but I still love it though. I actually find it cute, so it took a lot from me to not break character.

"Sure thing. Just get yourself a new straw." I said, pushing my drink towards him.

I can see he's quite surprised by that since he didn't just do it right away. He gave me a look but then again didn't really say anything. He stood up from our booth and went to get a new straw.

I almost facepalmed when he did so, but then again what was I expecting? That he'd go crazy over it? That he'd have a big reaction? This is Ushijima we're talking about. The only time you'll see a big reaction from him is when that kid Hinata goes head to head with him or when he sees Oikawa CAUSE WHY THE HECK DIDN'T YOU ATTEND SHIRATORIZAWA, DUMMY!

Ushijima is very simple and calm, so he doesn't make a fuss about things easily.

When he got back he just silently put his straw in and took a sip. "That's quite good but not as good as the one you always get." He said honestly. Typical Ushijima.

We were silent for a little bit. Usually I'd be talking his ears off by now with all the gossip I've found out. But I'm still a tiny bit down because of his lack of reaction.

"You're weird today" He said out of the blue.

"What?" I asked, choking a bit from my drink.

Lost. That's what I am. He doesn't really blurt out things like that. I mean, yeah, if he finds something weird, mostly if you're asking him about it he'll say it's weird. But he doesn't really just blurt it out the way he just did. 

"You never had problems sharing with me. You don't mind me biting into your food, drinking from your bottle, making me eat the ice cream when you only want the cone, yet you made me get a new straw. It's just new, I guess. That's why it's kind of weird."

He said calmly and I can tell that he's genuinely calm. Like he isn't trying to be calm or he's mad deep down. He's simply sharing his thoughts.

"So you did notice." I pouted. He looked at me and nodded for me to continue talking. "I was actually just doing this thing I saw on YouTube, telling your boyfriend you don't wanna share a straw."

"Oh" He nodded in understanding. "No wonder you're weird today. You'd never do that." He actually said in a very humorous tone, with a small smile on his face.

I beamed and sat closer to him, resting my head on his arm. "Sorry for that."

He shook his head and gave me head pats. "It's fine. And of course I'd notice, I prefer it when you share with me, it makes me feel closer to you. And you've always been sweet to me even though I can't do it well, so I instantly caught on to it."

"You're sweet in your own unique way, more than you realize, Ushi" I said, smiling at him. He returned the smile with an even bigger one. My heart is about to burst, it's not everyday I see this guy grin like this. This smile might be a small one to others but for me this is a whole ass beam!

"Can we share properly now?" He asked, very VERY cutely. It almost brought tears to my eyes. And when I say cutely I mean him just looking at me seriously. In conclusion whatever this giant does I find cute, okay? I'm whipped and I'll even write it on my forehead if I have to.

"By all means" 

#haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu kiyoomi #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu asahi #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu ushijima #kuroo tetsurou #kiyoomo #bokuto #asahi #oikawa tooru #kageyama tobio #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu fluff #haikyū!! #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x y/n #asahi x you #bokuto x y/n #kageyama x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa x you #ushijima x reader #oikawa why didn't you join shiratorizawa wtf

[fruitcoops]

You write Moody so well! I would love to see something where Moody and Remus talk for the first time after Coops was outed. Whether it happens after the meeting Coops had with Arthur and Alice or after the all star break. I feel like they have such a good relationship!

Thanks! This was partially inspired by watching The Karate Kid (1984) last night, so I hope y'all are ready for some mentor hurt/ comfort this fine Sunday! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for mentioned forced outing

Remus was almost done. He only had a few more drawers to clean out. The whiteboards were as squeaky and shiny as the day he arrived; the desk had a few more dents and coffee stains decorating the surface, but overall it looked decent. He still couldn’t bring himself to take the pictures off, though. It was his life. His friends. He just couldn’t do it.

The sleeve of his ancient Wisconsin hoodie was still damp when he smudged it under his runny nose. No tears had fallen, but he could feel the maelstrom gathering in his throat. Everything he had worked for, gone because of one stupid mistake.

Not Sirius, of course. Sirius would never be a mistake. It was Remus’ fault they had been caught in the first place.

He stared around his office in misery—no official notice of his layoff had arrived, but he knew it would come, and it was always better to be prepared. Maybe it would hurt less if he did it himself, one final ‘fuck you’ to the homophobes before he trooped off with his tail between his legs.

The tiles were cold through the seat of his comfiest jeans. He tucked his knees closer to his chest.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the suffocating silence. He didn’t answer.

“Kid?”

Remus’ lower lip wobbled and he croaked out a ‘come in’ with as much strength as he could muster; it wasn’t much. The door opened with a creak—he had never gotten around to having it fixed, after all—and uneven footsteps shuffled in, followed by a sigh as his visitor settled next to him on the floor.

“You have a chair, you know.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“Not all of us have young knees. Doesn’t your ass hurt?”

Remus nodded.

Moody huffed through his nose and hoisted him up by the arm. “Well Christ, kid, up you come. You’re awfully dense for a beanpole. What, you got concrete for bones or something?”

“No,” Remus mumbled as he followed Moody across the hall and allowed himself to be plonked down in the soft chair by the door. It was his favorite of both their offices; as far as he knew, Moody never let anyone else sit there. His chest seized as a sob tried to fight its way out. “I’m sorry.”

Moody shot him a look at he got comfortable in the adjacent seat. “For what?”

“I dunno.”

“I don’t like useless apologies, Lupin.”

Remus sniffled. “I should’ve told you.”

“Says who?” Moody snorted. “Your business is your business. You’re a bright young man, none of this is your f—oh. Okay, Lupin, easy does it.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus blubbered as the tears finally started to fall. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like crying, but I’m kind of a wreck right now.”

Moody made a few soft shushing noises, inching closer until he could wrap an arm around Remus’ shoulders and pat his arm like he was trying to soothe a frightened dog. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The sobs were near-silent; Remus never cried loudly if he could help it, and he already felt bad enough for dripping his perpetual raincloud all over Moody’s office. He caught his breath after a few hitching inhales and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Remus pulled his knees up again and hugged them tight to his chest. “I haven’t called my parents yet.”

“Did they know?”

His heart gave another painful yank. “Nobody knew. Nobody. And—and now it’s everywhere and people won’t leave me alone and I’m gonna get fired—”

“Woah, deep breaths,” Moody interrupted gently, giving him a little shake. “You’re not getting fired.”

“Yes, I am.” Everything felt gross and cold and sad.

“Who told you that?”

“Coach said it might happen ‘cause I’m a doctor.”

Moody scanned his face for a moment, then reached over and grabbed a box of tissues off his desk. “First of all, take some of these. You look like a mud puddle, Lupin. It’s very unsettling. Second, this is a complicated situation and I wouldn’t be too quick to make assumptions. And third, I’ll go to bat for you.”

He paused midway through blowing his nose. “What?”

“You’re a good man. An excellent PT. The best colleague I’ve ever had, actually. You know your shit and if they try to fire you over this, I’m not going to make it easy for them.”

More tears threatened to fall over the edge of his itchy eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Moody grumbled.

“He hasn’t called.”

“Who?”

“Sirius.” Remus swallowed hard and, before he could second guess himself, leaned his head on Moody’s solid shoulder. “I’ve called him 23 times and he hasn’t answered a single one. He just…left. Didn’t even look at me.”

“He’s making a mistake.”

“I ruined his life.”

“Hey.” Moody’s tone turned stern. “You don’t get to talk shit about yourself in my office. This is a Lupin Appreciation Zone.”

Remus’ shoulders shook and he closed his eyes; he wished he could just dissolve into the floor and stay there until someone mopped him up. Everything hurt. The world sucked. Moody—

Moody was petting his hair.

The tears stopped abruptly and Remus hiccupped in pure confusion. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m bad at comfort, kid, gimme a break.” The sat in silence for a few seconds as Moody continued to pat his head and muss his hair, which was in dire need of a cut but just long enough to cover his eyes when it was pushed forward. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you…?”

Something akin to embarrassment tinted Moody’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “My cat hates thunderstorms.”

“Oh. Cool. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks,” Remus said again, much quieter. Moody’s office always felt safe; all the clutter was in its proper place, clean and homey. The touch of familiarity was more of a comfort than he cared to admit. He sat up straight and wiped his face clean, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “If I do get fired—”

“You won’t.”

“If I do, I wanted to say thank you for changing my life.” The words hung in the air. “You—without you, I would never have felt at home here. You were the best mentor I could ever ask for and I’m never going to forget that. You did more than just teaching me routines. Thank you.”

Moody cleared his throat again. “Tissues.”

Remus silently passed the box.

“If anyone gives you shit for being gay, you call me and I’ll take care of it,” Moody said once the tissue had disappeared into the depths of his pocket.

Remis blinked at him. “Are you offering to hurt someone for me?”

“I’ll deny it in court.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughed. “Fuckin’ hell, this is a mess. I’m a mess.”

“You just got outed and your boyfriend ditched you in an airport,” Moody said bluntly, fixing Remus with a look. “You’re allowed to be a mess. Now go talk to Lily. Call your mom. Do whatever you do that makes you so sunshiney, and then we’re gonna unpack all your shit and put it back where it belongs.”

Remus swallowed hard. Fuck it. Fuck the NHL, fuck the homophobes, and fuck being sad.

Moody narrowed his eyes. “You want to use the kicking bag, don’t you?”

“I really, really do.”

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

“Stupid—fucking—son of a bitch!” Remus gritted out as the beat-up and half-folded gym mat squeaked under his assault. It was two inches of plastic and therapy—he was 90% sure Moody had stolen it from a middle school gym, and it had rapidly become the team’s favorite way of winding down after a frustrating day.

“Harder!” Moody barked behind him.

Remus wound up and slammed his foot into it again. “I worked too damn hard to be kicked out for this bullshit!”

“Damn right you did!”

The kicking bag creased in the center. “And I’ve got too much student debt to walk out of here like—like a coward!”

“Yes, you do!”

His grief had burnt off at least five minutes prior. Remus was well and truly pissed now. “And it’s nobody’s goddamn business who I kiss!”

“That’s the spirit!” Moody cheered.

“And maybe his face is stupidly pretty!” Remus threw his shoulder against the mat before he resumed kicking it. “And, yeah, he has really nice shoulders and a great ass—”

“Lupin—”

“But fuck him for leaving me in an airport! What kind of douchebag does that to a guy? I’m hot and smart and nice and I can date whoever the hell I want if he doesn’t appreciate that!”

“That’s certainly one approach!”

Remus stopped with a harsh exhale and dropped one last halfhearted kick to the base. “I don’t want anyone else, though. And I miss his stupid pretty face.”

A hand, heavy but gentle, squeezed his shoulder. “Then go get him.”

#remus lupin #alastor moody #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic

[totally-original-artist]

Ending

Day 31: Ending

Warnings: none

Characters: gn!MC, the brothers

Summary: Thinking back to the exchange program once you’re back in the human world.

Word Count: 630

Back in the comfort of your own home, you felt like there was something missing. Sure, everything was exactly the way you had left it, but there was just something...off. Usually when you'd be back home after a long day you would instantly feel secure, but now? This room felt more like a prison than anywhere else. Walking around, you start to clean up the mess you had left a year ago, rearranging clothes and throwing away things that you didn't need. It's only when you go to hang up your souvenirs that you notice something extra in your bag. A small toy sheep, no larger than the palm of your hand. It was made of plastic and had a small button on its face. Curiosity gets the best of you as you discard your previous tasks, the sheep taking up all your attention.

Sitting down on your bed you press the button and the face falls off, catching you off guard. You fumble with the toy for a bit and place it down on the bed. Taking a closer look, there seem to be small circular pieces of paper inside the cavity of its head. Frantically you shove your finger in there and pull out all the pieces. The papers burst out of the toy, some falling on the floor and some on the bed. You hurriedly pick up the pieces and notice that each one had a message on it. One from each brother, just the fact that they cared enough to make this for you almost brought you to tears.

Carefully shuffling the papers in your hand, you hold them out one by one and read.

Asmo: I'll always be thinking of you, my one and only love~ ♡ You feel your face heat up, of course Asmo would say something like this.

Belphie: Rest well, I know we didn't get to do much but I still think you're cool. Ps. Sorry I sorta killed you a small chuckle leaves your mouth at the last bit.

Levi: You better come back! I still have your game file saved. Let's play together. You remember the game clearly, Levi had been crying the entire time, knowing you were gonna leave the next day.

Satan: Take care of yourself, I'm sure we'll meet again sooner than expected. There was a small cat doodled at the end, typical Satan.

Lucifer: The year we spent together was rather eventful, I hope to see you again soon. You too hoped that you'd get to see him again, him and everyone else as well.

Mammon: Don't ya dare forget me OK? Cuz I sure won't forget ya! You loved how you could practically hear him say this.

Beel: Don't forget to eat so you can grow big and healthy, take care Because of him, you'd actually developed a bigger appetite during your stay, and you didn't plan on changing that.

By the time you finished reading it all you could feel hot tears drip down your face. Oh how you missed them too. The last year had been more eventful than the rest of your life, it was hard to imagine how big a change the brothers had brought about in you. Even while saying your goodbyes you considered, for a split second, WHAT IF I STAY? But you knew you didn't belong there, you belonged here, in the human world, but that didn't stop you from longing for them.

Getting up from the bed you rummage through your drawer to fish out a roll of scotch tape. You press each piece of paper neatly to your wall, right above your workplace and tape them there. Once done, you walk a few feet back and look at your work.

NOW your room felt complete. 

Note: I had a blue (turbo?) snail toy thing with the same feature as the sheep toy I just mentioned, and I just remember writing down little praises and throw them out the window from the seventh floor, really miss those days ngl.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me brothers #obey me mc #gn!reader #gn!mc #December Flashfic

[imaginativeamateur]

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] Burnt Eggs

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x gn!Reader

Note: HELLO! This is my debut:)) Enjoy!

In the breezing morning, without any tasks waiting, you felt extra relaxed as you strolled through the empty streets, heading to a nearby market. It was still early for the sun to shine its ray through the clouds, you unconsciously appreciated the surrounding dimed with little lingering lights from the lampposts.

Humming as you made your way through the food stalls at the market, hands gathering any ingredients that came across your eyes, making a mental note of what you were planning to make later. On your way back, you noticed people starting to set up tables and chairs in the morning cafes as the humid wind slightly passed against your cheeks. It was summer, the flowers were blooming wide between the green leaves, bright red, white, and yellow flowers weaved your way back home.

You opened the door to your apartment and dropped your grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Taking a few steps to the window sill, you slid the clear panel aside and allowed the natural sunlight to beam inside, dancing on the floor. Little specks of dust rose from the sudden disturbance, glimmering in the morning’s light. Pulling your hair up into a messy bun, you switched the fan with your toe and as you waltzed to the kitchen. You enjoyed the wind billowing into your apartment, a morning like this was rare, the office hours and piles of paper had been dragging you for a long, long time. You started by washing the fresh vegetables and set them on the counter to dry, moving on to cooking rice, beating eggs.

After one hour of diligence, you found yourself staring at a full table of food, not to mention the slightly burnt pans in the sink. This had always been your bad habit – making more than what you could probably eat. You planned to get Ino or Sakura if they wanted to come over and share the food with you, only to realize that they were both on their missions. Being extraordinary Shinobi they were, you sometimes could not help but compare yourself with the young girls. Even though you had only been friends with them for around a month or so, they saw you as a sister and helped you a lot in making this place feel like home. Naruto was off with Jiraiya already, Kurenai was definitely with Asuma and you did not want to third-wheel their date, it was the weekend after all. You could certainly refrigerate the food, only if you would be home that night, unfortunately, you needed to attend a random dinner with your committee.

Sighing, a thought came across your mind, maybe you could bring some over for Kakashi next door. You heard he was back from his mission yesterday night.

“But I don’t really… know him!” your inner-self doubted.

“What if he thinks I am poisoning him?” You asked yourself, rolling on the couch.

“This is ridiculous! It’s just a normal meal, it should be fine!”

“What will I reason if he asks?”

“Well, just say that you made some extra food, there’s no need to freak out!”

You hesitated slightly as you knocked on his door, once, twice, and waited for the silver-haired Ninja to open it. You had seen Kakashi before, conversed with him quite a few times, but you two were not especially close for you to do something this intimate. You had known his students, but not especially Kakashi himself. At least, you considered cooking for him to be intimate. At this point, you started to regret your decision when the door remained still, with no signs of movement. Just when you were about to turn your heels, Kakashi opened the door, his masked face poked out through the thin creak. You jolted at his sudden appearance, not knowing what to say. He stared at you, shifting his gaze to the container you are holding in your quivering fingers, the mood grew more awkward as none of you decided to speak.

You could not deny that you find the masked Ninja oddly attractive, especially the way he held his gaze half-lidded. Yet, you were determined to affirm yourself that it was only a mere thought of arousal and that it would go away soon.

After you made up your mind, you get up from the couch and scooped heaps of food into a plastic container, secured the lid, and dawdled your way over to Kakashi’s.

Finally, you parted your trembling lips, not able to sustain his intense stare, “I made some food earlier. Ugh, I guess we can eat to…, I meant I wanted to bring you some. Um, hope you will like it!”

You briefly shoved the container into his hands and bowed with nervousness before you sprinted back to your apartment. After two long strides, you stumbled upon your slippers and headed straight to the ground, bracing yourself for a rough landing. This was another reason why you would never belong to the Shinobi world: you would likely shove your face into the dirt before the opponent could even pull out a kunai. But when you were about to kiss the ground, a strong grip pulled you back to your feet. Kakashi fully appeared… in his tight, sleeveless tank and long pants, his half-lidded eye still cloudy from being wakened up early in the morning, you assumed. His tank’s material hugged perfectly to his lean built, outlining the defined muscles underneath. You could not help but be flustered at your thoughts and blamed the summer’s heat for them. You glanced down to his hand holding onto your arm and gulped, “Thank… thank you!”

Thoughts were going wild in your head. How did he know that you had not eaten yet? Did he stalk you or something? That was creepy! What did you get yourself into?

He released his hand, fixed his posture straight, and murmured under his mask, “Bring your breakfast over and join me!”

You look up, stuttered, you did not hear it wrong, did you? “I’m fine, I… already ate, I’ll take my leave now!”

The silver-haired Ninja tilted his head to one side, “What do you get by lying to me, Y/N?”

What happened to Kakashi? What were you supposed to do?  Was he literally asking you to eat with him? What if he kidnapped you to some weird places? While questioning, you still could not deny the butterflies welling up in your stomach as you get back to your apartment, maybe it was not bad at all, to spend your breakfast with a mysterious yet attractive Ninja of Konoha.

Seeing the confusion written all over your face, his visible eye crinkled, “You had your curtains opened.”

You closed your eyes, wanting to escape this great embarrassment, “You have been watching me?” You, of course, did not want to use ‘stalking’, especially in this context, but still shuddered at the thought that he had been observing you for Kami knows how long.

Still giving you his eye smile, Kakashi dropped a bombshell, “Right when you burnt the eggs.”

You froze, asking yourself what you did to get into this situation. Looking at his smile made you want to dig yourself a hole and disappear right away. You raised your voice a bit, “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry if I -”

“Nah, I just went back to sleep. But whatever you have in here smells good,” he shrugged, eyeing you, “why are you still here? Go back and get your breakfast!”

You exhaled heavily and take your leave, “Okay, I will be back shortly.”

It took your eyes several minutes to adjust to the darkness inside his apartment. Kakashi was seated – actually perching would be a better word to describe his posture – on the edge of his sofa with his Icha Icha firmly in hand. You silently wondered how he could possibly read with such little light.

“So you’re not going to turn on the light,” you chirped, “at least open your curtain, Kakashi-san.”

You finally got his attention as he placed the book on the low table beside and went for the window, “Welcome to my apartment!” The radiating light now allowed you to fully capture his apartment in sight, simple, and a bit… plain if you were to say.

“I saw you beating eggs earlier,” he raised an eyebrow, “what did you make?”

Opening your containers, you both settled down on the sofa, sitting across from each other. You amusedly explained, “Just traditional dishes, healthy and delicious, I hope!”

You clapped your palms together before starting to dig into your food, you were starving and practically drooling at the smell of your own crafts. “Oh, I don’t have my chopsticks,” you looked up, smiling warily at the masked Ninja. He pointed to the kitchen and motioned you to go get a pair of chopsticks. You made your way into his kitchen, there was literally nothing present on the kitchen counter, except for a kettle in the corner, a small, single stove, and a sink with bowls neatly stacked on the drying rack.

“Kakashi-san, I don’t see the chopsticks!” you called out to the Ninja.

“Sixth row from the left, second last drawer from the bottom,” he elucidated in a neutral tone, “make sure you are pulling it out, not swinging it open.”

It would be an easy task locating the right one until you glanced down at his endless rows of drawers, all matching in design and color. Mumbling his direction, you traced your index across the rows and counted your way through, and stopped at the one that seemed to fit his description. You were just about to pull the drawer open, he added, “Be careful, you don’t want to open the wrong one!”

You flinched at his words and lifted yourself up, starting to count once again, this time, paying closer attention. “It must be some weird stuff that he stores in there, maybe deadly weapons” you whispered, “or Icha Icha, maybe. Why on Earth does he even store such things here?”

“Can you locate the chopsticks?” he rang from outside.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming!” you quickly pulled on a drawer after already making sure that it was the right one twice and sighed in relief to see chopsticks lying in a metal box. You grabbed a pair and hurried outside without forgetting to push the drawer back in its place.

When you plopped yourself onto the sofa, Kakashi brought his palms together and bent his upper body down to the empty container, “Thank you for the meal, it was delicious!”

“Wow, that was fast,” you acclaimed, the thought of seeing his bare face shattered into pieces, “is my cooking okay?”

“Not bad, it somehow reminds me of something familiar…” he drifted off.

Seeing the man in front did not one to further the topic, you began eating, feeling glad that the burnt eggs turned out edible. “Do you often cook?” you initiated.

“Not that frequently, but I know how to cook though,” he replied.

You nodded at his answer, eyes wandering around the apartment to fully take in the sight, this time more carefully. “Do you especially like a certain dish, Kakashi-san?” The questions slipped out before you actually noticed and smiled hesitantly. Too fast, you noted.

“I’ve grown attached to eating basically anything for survival,” he shrugged, “but I recently found Ichiraku’s quite good of a ramen shop.”

You saw his lips curved under the mask at the implicit mention of his student’s obsession with ramen. You had heard of Naruto before, and of course, Team 7, well, without Sasuke.

“How about you?” he suddenly asked.

“Oh,” you shifted and leaned back a little bit, “food is my guilty pleasure.”

“Hm,” Kakashi looked up in question.

“I like anything from curry to sushi, or any kind of soup and noodles,” you exclaimed in joy, delighted to talk about your love for the place’s varied cuisine, “Konoha is such a great place for gustatory satisfaction!”

“Glad that you like it here! How long have you been here for?”

“Not very long, probably three months?” you tilted your head to one side and tapped your chin.

“It must be difficult to adjust to the place at first.” He commented.

“It was, I grew up in a rural area and Konoha seemed to be a busy place when I first came,” you admitted, “but I was lucky to meet, well, Sakura-chan and eventually Naruto-kun and their fellow Shinobi friends.”

“Sakura mentioned you several times, how did you two meet though?” the silver-haired Ninja leaned back onto the couch.

“Not in a very optimistic circumstance, I suppose,” you inwardly spoke, “I got myself into some villagers’ heated argument and one of them threw a punch in my face when I was trying to pacify the situation.”

Kakashi’s eye sparked a light but he did not speak.

“I ended up in the hospital with a swollen cheek, slightly fractured bone, and Sakura eased my pain.” You unconsciously reached for your face and rubbed against your cheek, silently admiring Sakura’s skills as a young, successful Medic.

You two kept talking for a long time, Kakashi did not reveal his past too much, it was mainly you answering his random questions. You were quite surprised that you both shared many similarities, the same dislike for sweets and crowded places, the same love for dogs and silent strolls in the forest, to have the same background as orphans and self-reliant individuals. He even promised to bring you to their training session one day. Within that mere hour, you sparked a strong bond that you never knew would last for a long time, neither did Kakashi.

#kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #naruto #kakashi imagines #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #kakashi fanfiction

[the-blonde-adventurer]

Never Ending Truths (4)

Indiana Jones x OC

Summary: Everyone is born with a matching tattoo to their soulmate, but not everyone can feel their soulmate’s emotions. Harley LaCarrubba is a freshman attending Marshall college to one day be an archeologist with her passion for history. Lucky for her, she is being taught by none other than the famous Indiana Jones, the school heartthrob. She can feel her soulmate’s emotions but never met him in real life, making her feel guilty about having a crush on her professor.

Words: 2921

I was led out of the room, leaving a worried Dr. Jones alone with his thoughts. I wonder what is going on, whatever it is, having him stressed out. Someone is trapped in a room and won't open the door? "Whenever you are having trouble or problems, you can come to mine or Dr. Jones's room. He's a nice man who cares about his students; he is just a little stressed out today. At least you aren't a part of that fan club he has; the poor man has girls drooling over him." She explains as we walk down the hall.

"No, I'm not a part of that fan club. I stormed into his room screaming at him and blamed him for the gum in my hair." I chuckled nervously before realizing we were speaking Italian. I snapped my head at her, shocked she spoke Italian. "I'm also Italian; my maiden name is Pellegrini. You and I are closer than you think. I grew up with your mama because we were neighbors and our fathers worked together if you know what I mean." She gives me a slight nod. I nodded in return, knowing she was talking about the mafia. "She was my best friend, and we always kept in touch. I was at the hospital when you were born. I have a confession I must make, I'm your godmother."

"What?" I was taken back, not knowing what to think. My Godmother? We made it to the classroom, and she went to the drawer of her large desk, pulling out a black bag. She got the shampoo and took me to the back room where books lined the shelves, pictures of different gods lined the walls, a counter with little toy statues of more gods, and a sink. She grabbed a towel and placed it around my shoulders so my shirt wouldn't get wet. She grabbed a big plastic cup and put a chair in front of the sink so I could sit. I sat in the chair with my back to the sink, just like in a hair salon. She turned the water on and began to get my hair wet. "Shocking, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I breathe out as I still try to come to terms with her confession.

"Yeah, your father pushed everyone away after she died and forbade me from coming to see you. I was thrilled when I saw your name on my roster. I cried that night. I bet you had to put up a fight to go to college; I know he didn't want you to leave him."

"Yeah, we got into a huge fight, but he eventually came around and paid for college, my little house, and my car." I explain to her.

"Well, actually, my dear, I bought that car." She smiles at me. "He called me apologizing for not letting me see you and how he was broken then. He told me you got accepted to go here, and I was thrilled. He told me he paid for school and a place to stay but couldn't afford to get you a car. I told him I would take care of it because my husband owns a used car lot. He told me to take care of my girl Isabella; she is like her mother. I was going to try to find you and explain everything, but then I saw your name on my roster, and I thought I should stay behind the scenes because, you know, we can't get close to our students. Now, I'm saying screw that because no one is going to hurt my godchild and get away with it."

"Wow, I had no idea. Thank you, though, for everything." I genuinely tell her.

"Of course, we are family after all." She smiles as she continues to wash my hair.

"Family." I smile up at her, thankful I have her here with me. I have leverage here, having a family member as a teacher.

"Just remember when we are at school, you still have to address me as a professor or Mrs. Donovan." She reminds me with a smirk on her face.

"Of course, Madrina." I smile at her as I call her godmother.

"Awwe stop; you're gonna make me cry." She pats my shoulder as the corners of her mouth was turn down in a loving smirk. The water turns off, and she wraps the towel around my head.

"This weekend, I want you to come over for supper after your schoolwork is finished, of course." She smiles.

"Sounds wonderful."

"Fantastic, I can't wait to hear everything you've done. You're so grown up." She put her hand on the side of my face as she tried to stop herself from crying. "Okay, let's put your hair up, and you can go back to archeology." She grabs her purse and begins to do my hair. I should open the connection up again; I've pushed him out for so long. I don't like not feeling him; it's lonely. I opened it up and felt he was stressing out as his heart started racing. He took a breath of relief as he could feel me again. He began to pepper my hand with kisses traveling up my arm as he held my hand. Aww, He missed me.

Madrina brushed my hair and put it up nicely as my soulmate traced my face lightly.

"Alright, my dear, now back to class." She smiles. I get up, hugging her before walking back to Dr. Jones's class. I kiss my hand, telling him I'm sorry, as I walk the empty halls. I got to Dr. Jones's class to see it was empty; he must be in the back room. I place a kiss on my hand before looking down at my homework for tonight and start working on it. My soulmate kept putting kisses on my hand, distracting me from my work. I lean back in my chair, looking ahead at the board, trying to let everything sink in. My soulmate freaks out when I push out the connection; my mythology teacher is my godmother. What truths am I going to discover here? I told my soulmate I needed to focus, and he stopped respecting my request. Dr. Jones comes back out with a smile on his face before looking me up and down. "You alright?"

"I just found out something shocking," I tell him truthfully.

"She finally tell you?" He smirks as he goes to the stack of papers on his desk.

"You knew?" I ask in disbelief. How is it he knew she was my godmother and didn't tell me?

"Yes, we tell each other everything; she's my favorite colleague." He smiles a stunning white smile making my heart race.

"Gotcha, so that's why you told her what was going on." I put the pieces together as I stared into his eyes.

"Yes, then I end up getting screamed at." He smirks as he looks at me over the top of his round glasses. I cross my arms and chuckle at him. "I apologized for that already."

"Well, I'm still going to keep it over you." He smirks before looking down at his papers.

"You're in a better mood; everything good now?" I ask him.

"Yeah, everything is good now." He smiles down at the papers. I focus on my homework for history 101 before Dr. Jones's class begins.

I finally finished my homework with a proud smirk as I re-read it one last time, ensuring he would approve of it. I put it in my history folder, closed my book, and leaned back In my chair, proud of myself. I get up and look out the window seeing the roses bushes under the window. It is a lovely view with the green grass and the pond a little way down. I turn to see Dr. Jones staring at me with a slight smirk before looking down at his papers. "You wanted me to translate something?" I remind him.

"Oh yes, you can do it after school; class is about to start." he nods his head before looking up at me. "You don't have anywhere to be after class?"

"No, plus I just finished my homework, and the test will be cake." I smile as I take a seat in my chair, leaning forward with my arms on my desk.

"Is that so?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, we are going over the war of 1812. I have read countless books about it. I'm more concerned about passing my math class. Unlike professor Johnson, I do not find numbers fun." I chuckle, getting a laugh out of Dr. Jones.

"Haha, that man is obsessed with numbers, but he knows what he is talking about."

"Most definitely." I nod my head in agreement. "I'm just not a math person; you give me history or tell me to write a paper. I can do that all day long, but you hand me a sheet of math and tell me I can't eat until I finish it; I will die of starvation."

"You just need to work harder at it," he suggests as he leans back in his chair. "It gets easier the more you practice."

"I guess." I shrug.

"So, have you made any friends yet?"

"Oh yeah, me and gum boy are best buds." I snort with a roll of my eyes. "I don't care about making friends; that's not what I'm here for."

"What are you here for?"

"To get a degree and have a future." I explained as the bell rang for the end of the Third Period.

"You still need to have fun and make some friends."

"We will see." I shrug my shoulders, knowing my track record with making friends isn't a good one. Students then began to shuffle in as they went to their seats, ready for the last class of the day. "Alright, today I will be giving out a quiz to see how much you already know, and we will compare it at the end of the semester." he gathers the stack of papers going to the girl at the end, handing it to her to pass down. I got my test to see it was four pages long front and back. I put my name on the paper and began. "Once you are done, turn it into my basket." he announced before taking a seat in his chair, pulling out a book.

Question 1.

What is archaeology? The search for facts

This test is going to be a piece of cake.

2. Which of these is not an archaeological record? Artifacts Architecture Bio facts Ecosystem

Oh, it's an ecosystem. I go through the test, answering the questions with a smirk on my face as I already knew most of the answers. I see Dr. Jones glance up at me before moving his head to my paper, telling me to focus. I go back to my quiz, reading everything carefully. Thirty minutes go by, and I finally finish my test. I get up and put it in the basket. Dr. Jones looks up at me then at my test on the basket. "You done already?"

"Yes, sir." I nod my head with a smirk. He closed his book then held his hand lit for my test. I pick it up and place it in his large calloused hand before going to sit in my seat. I pulled out my book about Egypt and started reading as he graded my test. I heard him get up walk over, handing me my test. I take it to see a 100% at the top and good job. I smile at it before looking back up at him with a giant smile plastered all over my face. He smirked, then walked back to his desk, picking up his book.

After some time, people started turning in their tests while Dr. Jones graded multiple at once. He's so handsome when he grades tests, how he focuses, and the little faces he makes. I returned to my book reading until the final bell rang, dismissing everyone. "I'll give tests back tomorrow once I finish grading." He announced as he stood up. Everyone left, leaving us alone in the room. "Okay, come look at this." He goes into his desk drawer, pulling out a little slab with hieroglyphics written all over it. He placed it on his desk to get a look at it. "Nooo! Are you serious? Is this really what I think it is!" I get excited as I look back up at him with a giant smile. He chuckled at me, then nodded to the slab. "This is early 18th century by the look of it," I inform him as I look closer. "Can I have a piece of paper?" I ask him. He grabbed a notebook and a pen and handed them to me. "I'm so excited." I giggle as I read it. Dr. Jones started chuckling at how excited I was. I write everything down for him grouping it together for him.

I finish up and look up at him with a giant smile on my face as I look back at the tablet. "Wait, the building of two obelisks was done in Cleopatra's time. Cleopatra's needles wrote these." I gasp as I look over it again.

"Haha, you really do get excited over Egyptian artifacts. I'll have to find more for you." He chuckles.

"Oh, I'll be so happy. This made my day; I'm not even upset about the gum anymore." I chuckle as I look over it again.

"Let me see your translation." He smiles. I hand him back the notebook, not taking my eyes off the slab.

"Not bad, kid. This is the exact translation I got, but it took me several hours to do."

"Maybe if you study more, it will come easier for you. It's just practice." I joke with him, repeating the words he told me about math.

"Haha, very funny." He tells me, trying to act unamused, but his little smirk betrayed him.

"I know, I'm hilarious." I smile up at him playfully.

"A real jester." He rolls his eyes coming back over to put the slam back in the drawer.

"Hey, I'm not the one that wrote Cleopatra sucks dick on the board."

"No one would have known if you didn't shoot water all over the class and laugh that cute laugh loudly." He smirks. Cute laugh? I could tell he regretted saying that as he mentally cursed himself, taking a step back from me. "I thought it was funny; I didn't expect to read profanities on the board." I say, acting as if I didn't notice he said my laugh was cute.

He pulled out a book opening it to a page with a picture of a pillar with the text in the background. "This is where I saw it and decided to put it on my board for decoration." He explains. "Well, now you know why this book didn't put a close-up picture with the translation." I chuckle.

"Yeah." He smiles ear to ear shaking his head. He has such a stunning smile; he's so serious in class it's nice to see him smile.

"So since I got a 100 on my test, do I get extra points or something? Like not having to do homework for next time you give it?" I smile at him.

"Honestly, you should be moved to a different class to advance your education."

"Awe, I don't want to leave; other professors won't show me an 18th-century tablet."

"Is that the only reason you want to stay?" He chuckles.

"I like your class; I think it's fun. I mean, I doubt they would write profanities on the board." I tease him.

"Nice, you're never going to let me live that one down are you?" He smiles as he leans on the edge of his desk.

"Never." I scrunch up my face playfully as I shake my head.

"Just like I'll never let you live down for yelling at me when I helped you." He crossed his arms, scrunching up his face just like I did.

"Oooh, come on." I smile as I look up at the ceiling before looking back at him to see he was silently chuckling.

"Alright, you should head home. It's getting late, and I have to grade these papers."

"Let me know if anyone else gets the same grade as me. I want to know who my competition is." I smile at him. He chuckled and nodded his head, looking down at the ground before taking his glasses off.

"Okay." He smiles. I grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Dr. I'm a Scientist." I tease him with a smile to see him chuckle at me. "See you tomorrow, hot head." He comes back quickly. I couldn't help but laugh as I walked out of his classroom.

**** I sat on my couch thinking over today and how close Dr. Jones and I are becoming, and it hurt Knowing I am cheating on my soulmate. I kiss my hand, letting my soulmate know I'm thinking about him. I got a kiss immediately in response, thrilled he was still there. I'll meet him one day, and then no one else will matter.

#indy #indiana jones #harrison ford #the last crusade #raiders of the lost ark #soulmate #teacher x student #fanfic

[iamnotparticularlyproud]

PPB Square: Kink Discovery | @peterparkerbingo

word count: 2.7k rating: mature warnings: none ao3 link: https://bit.ly/3xpiBdx

Summary: Bucky and Peter have been together for a while, but Peter can’t bring himself to talk to his boyfriend about how their sex life is a bit - uh, well, boring. Instead, Peter searches Bucky’s laptop while he isn’t home for any sign of kink whatsoever. To say it doesn’t go as he planned would be an understatement.

Bucky’s amazing. So, so amazing, and Peter could go on about it for days - about his silly nicknames, the way he makes the Brooklyn drawl sound adorable, his unexpected dorkiness and razor sharp wit, how his hands are so calloused but he holds Peter so softly--

Days, Peter could come up with these for days. 

So, it’s not like there’s anything he wishes he could change about their relationship. It’s - they’re - perfect, everything’s been perfect. Bucky’s just so nice, and after Beck, Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever be in a relationship again, let alone one so - so good. So healthy, and so supportive. 

It’s just--

Their sex is so vanilla. Painfully vanilla. The most unconventional Bucky gets is with his dirty talk, and, yeah, Peter loves how his boyfriend will call him his sweet lil boy, and tell Peter how good he takes a thick cock in his tight ass, but that's about as far as Bucky ever goes. 

And that - that isn’t a bad thing, Peter knows that, it’s just. Boring, sometimes, is all.

Peter wishes he could talk to Bucky about it, because the man always stresses communication and talking problems out, but it’s just so embarrassing. Peter’s just thinking about it and he’s flushed, so how could he say the word kink out loud? 

He can’t. He really, really can’t.

So Peter does the only other thing he can think to do.

He steals Bucky’s laptop and rummages for any signs of kink - anything to suggest his boyfriend isn’t as vanilla as it seems. Peter knows he doesn’t have long - Bucky’s out getting takeout from their favorite Thai place, and it isn’t too far - so he doesn’t waste time as he searches all the keywords he can think of in Bucky’s unorganized folders, his internet history that’s never been cleared, the hard drive Peter got him because he complained about memory but Peter was 99% sure he never touched - he was right - and then tries his luck with the recycle bin, but--

There’s not just no sign of kink.

There’s nothing. There’s no porn at all.

Peter’s mind is blown. He hadn’t even considered that he wouldn’t find porn, he thought that everyone watched porn - and unless Bucky knew how to delete specific pages from his browser history, which Peter heavily doubts, because, c'mon - but apparently, Bucky doesn’t.

He considers that, maybe, since Bucky is nearly a decade older than him, he consumes his porn in a different way. Maybe physical movies or, godforbid, magazines.

Peter’s considering looking through Bucky’s drawers and closets until he finds proof of pornography consumption, but then someone’s clearing their throat behind him.

“Jesus, how do you--” Peter exclaims, because it’s nowhere near the first time this six foot hunk of a man has snuck up on him. Then, he glances at the clunky computer in his lap that is obviously not his, and back at Bucky, who’s looking at the laptop, and then at Peter.

“What’re you doin’ with my computer?”

Peter panics, not because Bucky seems upset, because he doesn’t, just - confused, but it’s such a weird thing to be doing, and he can’t lie at all, and this isn’t--

“Does that say porn?” Bucky asks, suddenly leaning over Peter’s shoulder, and he just sounds amused, but Peter goes on the defensive anyway.

“I-It’s just, you never, and I - this isn’t me wanting you to change, or--”

Bucky moves quickly when Peter starts that familiar stress-ramble; he circles around the couch, puts the plastic bag filled with food down on the coffee table and sits next to him, wrapping an arm around his back and shushing him kindly.

“Slow down, doll.” Bucky smiles, sincerity etched in his crow’s feet, “Can’t understand you when you’re talkin’ too fast, remember?”

Peter stops. He nods, then he takes a breath. When he lets it go, Bucky tells him to take a deeper one, so he does, and as he breathes it out, he feels the alarm fade.

Not completely, though. Not with the evidence of his snooping in his lap.

With a glance back at where porn is still typed out in the recycle bin’s search bar and a chuckle, Bucky asks, almost laughing, “What were you doin’, sweetheart?” 

Peter doesn’t expect it, but the fight drains from his body. It’s him accepting his fate, he realizes belatedly.

“I, uh,” Peter pauses, because it’s still so difficult to say the words, “was looking for porn.”

Bucky laughs for real this time, and Peter closes his eyes with a sigh. That wasn’t what he meant to say, at all.

“No - I was looking for y-your porn, like, what you watch,” Peter explains, and Bucky is still laughing, but he waves a hand.

“Yeah, I got that.” He says, making an effort to curb his laughter, “Why, though?”

Peter bites his lip. "Do you watch porn?”

He was scared that meeting Bucky’s question with a question would frustrate the man, but he only looks more amused.

“Why would I?”

Huh?

“What?”

“Why would I watch porn?” Bucky sounds genuinely confused, “We have sex almost everyday.”

Almost, Peter nearly stresses, but catches himself. Obviously, he’s dramatically misread the situation. 

“Y-Yeah, but,” Peter tries to come up with something, anything, “like, maybe, before we dated?”

“I know it’s kinda old, but I got the thing not too long before we met, actually.”

That bit of information also sends Peter reeling, and he almost argues about it - because the laptop isn’t 'kinda old,' it’s ancient - but Bucky speaks before he does.

“Were you lookin’ for the kinda porn I’m into?”

Peter nearly sags with relief. How does he always manage to get it before Peter has to explain? 

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s smile shifts, and it’s - he likes that, Peter notices, and, it’s - it's sexual.

“What, did you wanna tease me?” Bucky licks his lips, “Rile me up?”

Oh. That works, and it’s pretty true, even. Peter can work with that.

He nods. Bucky continues, and he looks so pleased.

“It’s you, sugar,” Bucky brings his hand to Peter’s cheek, and his hold is so gentle, but the calluses are rough, and it’s such a satisfying dichotomy that Peter can’t help but lean into it, “You get me wild.”

If only. Peter’s never seen him be wild. 

But he couldn’t say that. Not when Bucky sounds like he absolutely means it, and it makes Peter’s heart flutter.

Peter has been a bit weird lately. 

Well, Peter is always a bit weird, but it’s a part of his charm. He’s been acting extra weird lately, Bucky’s noticed, and while it’s just as endearing, it’s confusing, too.

He almost calls Peter out on it after he’s found him searching for porn on his computer - more than he had already, anyway - but he just gets so tense when Bucky tries to make him really talk about something. He doesn’t want to bring up that energy - not so late, anyway. 

So Bucky plans to talk to him about it tomorrow.

And Peter thwarts that plan as soon as they wake up. Usually, he’s eager to spend the last day of their shared weekend off together, but before they’ve even had their coffee, Peter’s rushing out the door with the excuse of meeting up with his college friends at a cafe. Not too long later he texted they were going to do an impromptu study group for an upcoming quiz, then, after five hours, texted him they were going to hang out more.  

Bucky tries not to be suspicious of or retaliatory to Peter even more than he’s learned to be with his partners, because the kid’s not had a great track record with boyfriends, to say the least, but this is ridiculous. When he’s been gone for a whole seven hours, under the guise of shoddy excuses, Bucky decides his curiosity needs to be sated more than Peter needs to be coddled, and his new plan is to snoop into Peter’s computer like the kid tried with him. Obviously, if he assumed Bucky would have porn on his laptop, Peter’s got some on his. 

Bucky doesn’t plan to look until Peter texts that he’s on his way home, though. He thinks it’ll be funny if the kid finds himself where Bucky stood last night.

So, after Peter texted that he’s omw, Bucky pulls out his computer. It’s so sleek, thin and light, yet wide, and he hates using it, but he’s dying to know. How much porn could Peter possibly watch, considering how much they have sex, and how busy he’s kept as a student and part-time employee?

Not very much, Bucky assumes.

And holy fuck is he wrong.

He takes a wild guess and searches porn in the convenient - but too bulky, and ugly - search engine in the toolbar, and a stupidly obviously labeled folder, not porn don’t look, comes right up. There’s several subfolders - distinguishing the videos by kink, dear God - and dozens of videos in most of them, over a hundred in a few.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s surprised - Jesus Christ, so surprised - at so many things, but - where the fuck does Peter find the time to watch so much porn? What does it mean that he’s amassed such a collection? How has Bucky never walked in on him watching it? Is there a way to see how many hours of it there are, because it’s a stupidly high amount, definitely--

Bucky takes a breath. He leans back, too, because the little previews are too much to look at, and he takes a moment to appreciate just how understandable it was that Peter was so confused yesterday. It must be unthinkable, to not watch porn, to him. But - Peter’s never even mentioned porn before, not in the half-a-year they’ve been dating, so what was so different about yesterday?

The question has Bucky sitting back up, ready to delve deeper. He starts by reading the names of the folders closer, finding it’s not just organized by kink, but by his favorite pornstars, too. The kid’s got several, all with typical pornstar names, and according to the previews, he’s got a type for big and buff. Checks out.

With another deep, grounding breath, Bucky clicks on the folder name Ultimate Favorites. It’s only got thirteen videos in it, but all the titles are a fuckin’ doozy. It’s shit like Small Twink Fucked Hard, and Daddy Pounds His Boy Until He Cries, and - Jesus fuck - Dom Verbally Abuses Sub While Anally Abusing Him. 

Bucky’s nauseous just reading that last one. He never would’ve guessed Peter was into such rough sex. Not just because the kid gets all wide-eyed and stuttery whenever sex is even mentioned, but because Peter’s just so - soft. In all the ways a person can be, really.

Bucky doesn’t know how to reconcile what he knows Peter to be like with this new information about him. He distantly knows that he doesn’t have to - that Peter’s kinks don't reflect anything about his personality, and acting like they do is only reductive - but the instinct is so strong, he can’t help but fruitlessly try.

Before he can reconsider, Bucky’s clicking on one of the more mildly titled videos - not that any of them are mild at all - just to understand better what Peter’s so into. 

The video loads almost immediately, and it doesn’t waste time with any kind of introduction - there’s suddenly two men on the screen, their size difference resembling Bucky and Peter’s to a ridiculous degree, and the larger one pushes the smaller onto a bed carelessly before climbing on top of him. It’s a bunch of shoving and aggressive groping along with cruel words and name calling, and Bucky’s never been more turned off in his life. He can’t believe this porno is among Peter’s favorites - his boyfriend’s never once let on that this is the kind of sex he’s into.

While he’s staring, Bucky’s on screen lookalike finally quitting with the rough teasing and moving onto the brutal fucking, he hears Peter enter his apartment. Bucky doesn’t mute the video, and Peter’s light footsteps stop immediately. Bucky can just see the look on his face - that caught-in-the-headlights one that makes Peter look more like a deer than Bucky thought a person could - and he stifles a laugh as the steps pick back up, this time much more hesitant. When Peter’s a good foot into the living room, Bucky turns around, acting as if he hadn’t heard him coming in.

With the computer filling the room with sounds of slapping and exaggerated moans, Bucky greets, struggling to keep a smirk off his face,  “Hi, honey. How was your day?”

Peter doesn’t answer him and - yep, there’s that look. Instead, he gapes like a fish at where his computer is steadied on Bucky’s lap, eyes wide and frantic.

“Why’d you never mention this, doll?” Bucky asks, dropping the act as Peter keeps looking like disaster is seconds away. He pauses the video and sets the laptop to the side, motioning for Peter to join him on the couch.

Peter does join him, albeit uncertain and his eyes still trained on the graphic image on the computer screen. He’s quiet as he sits as far as he can from Bucky.

“I--” Peter starts, gaze transfixed on the laptop. “Can you - close that?”

Bucky does. Peter keeps looking at it.

“You okay?” Bucky asks, chuckling.

Peter finally looks at him. He seems scared, Bucky realizes. He closes a bit of the distance between them, leaving some incase Peter feels suffocated, and puts a hand on the back of his neck, a touch Peter always leans into.

He does this time, too. He relaxes some, and Bucky prompts, “Were you scared to tell me?”

Peter relaxes even more, his shoulders falling. He nods. “I know you probably don’t care--”

Bucky interrupts to confirm with a nod of his own, “I don’t.”

“But it’s just--” Peter huffs, eyebrows furrowing, “Embarrassing.”

Bucky nods more. “It doesn’t change how I think about you.” He reassures Peter, “At all.”

“That's good.” Peter breathes, and Bucky can’t help but laugh softly. “I was starting to think it would gross you out.”

It kinda does, but Bucky doesn’t say that. It isn’t important how the porn he’s into makes Bucky feel. 

“No, baby. It doesn’t.”

Peter leans into his side, and Bucky shifts to embrace him. Silence attempts to settle around them, but Bucky can’t help his need to tease.

“So… where’d you find the time to make such a collection?” 

Peter cringes. “I, uh, started it years ago.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t know why he didn’t assume that - it’s a seriously massive collection - but thinking of how far back years suggests, and how Peter is just twenty-two, he can’t help but ask for clarification.

“How many years you talkin’?”

“Uhh…” Peter trails off, seeming to really think about it. Bucky can see the moment he finds the answer, and his expression closes.  “...several.”

Bucky decides to wager a guess. He doesn’t really know why he wants to know this answer, but he thinks it might help him understand just how into kink Peter is.

“Sixteen?”

Peter whines. “Jamie.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Fifteen?”

Peter pulls away a bit to cover his face with his hands, and he whines unintelligibly this time.

“Christ, it wasn’t younger than thirteen, was it?”

Peter shakes his head. “N-No, I--” His words are muffled by his palms,  “I was fourteen.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Peter can’t lie for shit, so Bucky can tell he isn’t just appeasing him. 

Then it hits him just how long Peter’s been fantasizing about this kind of sex.

“You’re really into this stuff, huh?”

Peter burrows further into his hands. Bucky rubs his back, and considers his next words carefully.

“If you want, we could explore some of the tamer stuff you have in there.” 

Peter drops his hands from his face and he looks excited for all of two seconds. Then, his expression falls. “None of it’s… tame. I mean, I guess--” Peter cuts himself off to cough, wincing as he tries to get the words out, “uh, im-impact play isn’t, you know, hardcore, I guess.”

“Spanking and stuff?”

“...and stuff.” Peter says with a flush. 

“We’ll start with spanking,” Bucky laughs, adding just in case, “if you want to.”

But it wasn’t necessary, because Peter brightens immediately. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” 

Peter smiles wide, and Bucky can’t help but return it with one of his own.

#peterparkerbingo2021 #winterspider #peter parker #bucky barnes #peter parker x bucky barnes #peter x bucky #nff #im pretty sure no warnings anyway #if u think i should add one jus tell me #for some reason i feel the need to defend myself for making bucky not. like. good with technology #bc thats not canon #but i dont have a reason i just think its funny #also for some reason im really embarrassed to post this #uhhhh #my writing

[glitterge1pen]

Crayons Not Cigarettes

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 2,770

If you looked it up on google the descriptors were "small venue" and "sports arena" and "stadium". The place took roughly ten minutes to walk around, the parking lot was huge, and it had those bright white lights out in the front. The entrance was a bit grand, big pillars with dozens of different sports flags. Tons of different teams, tournaments, and practices were held here.

You were starting your part time job at the concession stands today. You had already gone through the training a couple days ago, all that was left was actually doing your job. You were hoping you had a good shift partner, that you didn't spill any drinks, that people would be nice to you.

Tonight there was a volleyball match, you decide the crowd was decent for thirty minutes before game time. The regular attendees stood in lines at the front gates, waiting to be let in. Walking up to the employee only entrance you struggled with your key card to get it open. This was exactly how your manager had done it on training day. There was only five more minutes before your shift started, you were starting to worry you might be late.

"Turn it over"

You whipped around to see another person standing right behind you. He had blonde dyed hair with black streaks, and his eyes doused in eyeliner.

"Oh, thanks"

You kinda mumble it out, embarrassed that this very cute stranger had to see you struggle opening a door.

"Do you work here too?"

You ask as you hold the door open for him.

"No"

You take his short reply as him saying the conversation is over. You still have to awkwardly walk next to him down the long employee corridor though. After a rather long pause he continues speaking.

"I'm a volleyball player. On game days we get to use the employee entrances and doors."

"Really? That's cool,"

Up further down the hall you can see where your paths will diverge.

"Well I hope the game goes well for you"

He says nothing, but does nod his head before leaving for the locker room area. You turn the other way to the employee office. Put your jacket and bag into a locker, clock in on the old desktop, and walk out to the counter to start your shift. Your shift partner isn't there yet so you begin setting things up at the booth alone.

You flick on all the machines, filling up the icee mixer with dyed flavors, a new pouch of cheese for the nacho dispenser. You unpackage plastic cups, open up different cupboards and drawers trying to familiarize yourself before you have to start serving people. You get change from the back, filling up the register. Finally your shift partner shows up. Just in time to because you start to hear the sounds of people entering.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Your next shift was for a highschool gymnastics tournament. The concessions stand was in a large hallway between different gymnasiums, wedged between the gift shop and Subway. Since it was a smaller event you were the only one working the counter. Hardly anyone was buying anything though. The fan behind the counter gave a gentle hum, the music rather quiet amongst the sounds of people.

“You still got bottled water?”

It was that guy from your first day. You duck below the counter to grab a bottle, hand it to him and start ringing up the total.

“You guys won that game the other day, right?”

You knew they had won. You had spent your break trying to get a glimpse of the player who you had spoken to. You had only gotten to see him for a few moments, his body in the air, hand coming down on the ball sending it over the net in one fluid motion. After pulling the metal shutters down over the counter at closing, you had walked back to the courts to confirm the score.

“Yeah,”

It was here that another volleyball player came up to the counter.

“I told you that you could use one of my extra water bottles! You didn't have to go and buy one!”  

The other player turned his attention to you.

“Sorry that my scary friend is bothering you-”

“Scary?”

You asked confused, but he kept talking.

“I’m Konganegawa, me and Kyotani are both Sendai Frogs!”

Kyotani.

“Nice to meet you both”

You say.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Kyotani sat on the counter of the concession stand. You liked it when he was perched up there, he warded customers off fairly well. You were certain that practice had ended a while ago, but you said nothing in fear of sending him away. He didn't always say much, or anything sometimes, but his presence was comforting to you. Even if it wasn't always abundantly clear you could tell he paid attention to you, like he was standing watch.

He knew your schedule, what snacks to buy for you on break, what songs you liked best on your manager's store playlist. He had quickly become your favorite part of work. It didn't matter who you shared shifts with, if you had gotten swamped at the register, or if you had to mindlessly wipe the counters with boredom. As long as Kyotani was there work wasn't ever terrible.

“The team is having a get together”

You had been re-arranging the plastic utensils on the counter but stopped to listen to him.

“You wanna come?”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“And you like Kyotani? Like you’d want to go on a date with him?”

Yamaguchi was teasing you, his voice trying to communicate how ridiculous he thought the notion was. You had quickly grown close to him after tagging along to a few of the Sendai Frog events. He came to every game and usually made an appearance at the concession stand to chat with you or you would find him in the stands. Today was one of those days.

“You are literally dating Tsukkishima”

Yamaguchi perked up in defense,

“They are nothing alike!”

“That I can agree on”

Both of you dissolving into laughs. Yamaguchi's face steadied and got more serious.

“You really do feel that way about him?”

He asked.

“Yes, I mean even when we first met I thought he was cute, and we keep hanging out more and more, and I just keep liking him more and more”

Yamaguchi looked ready to say something else when he stopped himself. You turned around, suddenly feeling another's company. Kyotani was right there, you wondered if he had heard anything you said but his expression betrayed nothing.

“You're on your break?”

“Yeah, what's up?”

He seemed, you couldn't find the exact word, but it was between dejected and bitter. You wanted to ask if he was okay but he spoke first.

“I thought you'd be watching the game”

“We had been,”

Yamaguchi said, jumping into the conversation.

“Yeah, the first set was just about to end, concessions is gonna be swamped when I get back”

You said, you trying to meet Kyotani’s eyes, to see if they would reveal anything to you but no such luck was granted.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You try to focus on the customers you have. A dance competition was in the big gym today, the entire place was packed. You hand out bags of popcorn, perfectly filled cups of beer to the brim. At one of the tables placed outside your stand is Kyotnai. He was practically stewing, his aura strong and unavoidable. He was making it harder to count out change and your eyes kept drifting from customers to him. He had been sitting there for a while. You thought that maybe someone else from the team would come drag him back to practice, but that didn't happen.

The last customer in line left, the competition having gotten louder, more intense, pulling people away from the food. That last customer was replaced with Kyotani’s scrunched up sulking, angry face. Normally you wouldn't call it sulking, just angry or annoyed, but he definitely had traces of sulking on him.

“A couple weeks ago,”

He got this part out fine, but the rest of his words came a little more quiet.

“You had been talking to Yamaguchi on your break during a game, who were you talking about?”

You don't know what to say. You stumble over a few words, none of them sounding right. He was so direct and challenging, you felt as if no matter what you said he would eventually pull it from you. You only managed to get one word out properly.

“Why?”

He didn't answer and this surprised you.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Kyotani stood under one of the lamps outside the main entrance. You thought you could see the outline of a  pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He didn't smell like smoke and you had never seen him do it before. You didn't move for a moment wondering if you could catch him smoking now.

“Hey fuckface! We going or not?”

Kyotani had spotted you and called out.

“Yeah, yeah”

You said rushing over to meet him. You could no longer count on your fingers how many times you had hung out with him. A couple of movies, lots of grabbing food after his practice or your shift, that time you found out he couldn't roller skate, that one trip to the museum. He had kissed one of the statues in defiance when you told him to stop touching things. Unfortunately for him that was the exact moment you had pulled out your phone to snap some pictures.

Today though he was tagging along with you to the store. You needed to pick a couple things up before going home. He had offered to drive. In the car, you recounted that day's incidents. A spilled soda on your pants, a customer yelling at you about their cotton candy, and getting scolded for coming in five minutes late.

“Why are you working there? Not that it’s bad, but you kinda hate it”

“Anyone hates working in a job where you have to give people food and wear a collared shirt, plus I don't hate it you're there”

That part about him wasn’t something you planned to say and you chose to ignore the seinement and keep talking.

“I’m just trying to save up money right now, I have other things in life I want, and you?”

You asked, at the light he stopped to look at you.

“What do you mean?”

“You just have volleyball brain, that's it?”

He hesitated here, it was brief but it was there.

“Volleyball brain is my diagnosis”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Once in the store Kyotani pushed a cart around while you led him up and down different aisles. You pulled off bottles of dish soap, a pack of clorox wipes. You were going to turn down to the electronics center to see if they had any cute phone cases you might want when Kyotani cut in front of you with the cart.

“Let’s go the other way”

“It’s faster if we go this way”

You tried walking past him but he didn't budge. You huff, and shoulder check him when turning in the direction he wants to go. This happens a few more times. You wanted to loop around to the grocery aisle when he insisted you lap the whole store instead of just cutting past the toys and books. You forgot to grab that extra phone charger you had been wanting and he wouldn't let you pass by the magazines to get it. In the end you had waited with the cart while he went to grab it for you.

When you were loading the bags into the back seat of his car he asked what you wanted to eat.

“You sure you want to go out? You seemed nervous in the store”

You say.

“I’m fucking hungry”

Is all he says, but you know he's trying to lighten the mood from the strange way he was acting in the store. In the car he lets you pick the music and roll the windows down.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It was a weekend morning and once again you were back at the store. You thought about the last time you were here a couple weeks before with Kyotani. Recently you have fallen into a type of rhythm with Kyotani. You spent a lot of your free time with him, with each other's friends, your lives were almost totally meshed together. More often than not people assumed you two were dating. Even if you wanted that to be true you were still unsure how he felt about you.

You had your basket and were on the way to the check out when spotted a book on display. Oftentimes you would send pictures of frogs and frog merchandise to the Sendai Frog group chat you had been roped into. Even if you weren't on the team you had officially been adopted into the group because “you work for home base!” according to Koganegawa. You picked the book up off the shelf.

They were the cutest drawings you had ever seen. They were simple and rough. Done in crayon which made them so charming. The title of the book was Frogs Go Ribbit! , if the display card was right this was the authors fourth picture book and so far the most popular. You opened up the first pages.

Frogs ribbit all day long

When they snooze and when they watch the morning news

Each frog had different types of music notes drawn coming from their mouth. Some frogs had bright colorful notes, one had notes that looked like plants and flowers, one had notes covered in flames. The one with flames had dark lines drawn under its eyes. It reminded you of Kyotani, if you weren't going to buy the book before you were now. You turned the page. Then snapped it shut.

At the movies buying tickets, during museum visits  

It was you. Sure you were a little crayon cartoon but that was you. It was you and a little frog that looked like Kyotani. That was your hair, your favorite pair of shoes. It was you and frog Kyotani in line buying movie tickets. You pull out your phone and scroll back in your photos to when you and Kyotani had first gone to the movies. It was even the same outfit. On the museum page you gasped when you realized who the other frog was.

Tsukishima's frog had glasses, a figure that was unmistakably Yamaguchi pointing in excitement at a painting next to the frog. There was no way it wasnt Yamaguchi and Tsukki. The green tufts of hair, you had helped him dye many times now so obvious. You and Kyotani were on the museum page as well. Kyotanis frog sticking its tongue out to latch onto a statue while you hit him on the head. Little yellow exclamations drawn around the point of impact. You flipped to the next page.

In the trees, on the court they ribbit, ribbit, ribbit! It fills their hearts!

There was a Koganegawa frog hidden in a basket of volleyballs. Tsukishima's frog blocking a serve from Yamaguchi with its tongue. Yachi was also on this page cheering from the stands. You were crouched down next to Kyotani’s frog patting him on the head, a doodle of a heart floating off him. The rest of the team was there drawn as frogs as well. Sure they weren't wearing jerseys with their numbers, there wasn't a Sendai Frogs banner, but that was them.

You flip through the rest of the book rather quickly. The book telling the tale of how frogs need to take breaks from their ribbits, how they need to eat well, sleep well, and love others. The page with the frogs eating had you feeding Kyotani a plate of flies. When you closed the last page and turned over to see who the author and illustrator were, all that was there on the front cover were the initials M.D. You pull out your phone from your pocket as you start grabbing as many of the books as you can. Your hand finding the contact you were looking for.

“Yamaguchi, you're never going to believe this but I think Kyotani feels the same way I do and you're also not going to believe how I figured that out”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: ahahahahah I don't know why this ended up so long BUT ALSO LIL FROG THAT GO RIBBIT. And here's the playlist that I listened to while I wrote; cherry sparkling water

#kyotani x reader #kyōtani kentarō #kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #sendai frogs

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Long Nights - part 5

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5: After rain

(see chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: you learn to cope with the new situation, but you aren't the only one struggling

warnings: 18+, angst and pain, explicit language and other things

author’s note: This part of the story's been with me for... oh, so long. I just hope I did it justice. ✨6,1k words.✨ I don't even know.

Hurt/Comfort.

The song for this part is Dermot Kennedy - After rain

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision ​ @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

Your hands clenched on the bed’s frame, its coldness felt like the only real thing your drugged mind could process.

Doctor’s words were filling the room, but they were muffled as if they were coming from behind a barrier. Falling from such height...extreme luck...no broken bones…head trauma...internal bruising....

Was all that talking really necessary? Yeah, you were battered, all right. And it seems that even with painkillers the weird throbbing, like a morse code from your bruised cells, was about to stay with you for a little while.

...just like the darkness.

The more the doctor spoke, the more it became clear that they didn’t have any definite answers for you. Seemed like the day spent on being prodded, stabbed with needles, and tossed into various machines resulted in nothing more than a verdict: optic nerve injury.

As for what were you supposed to do now--

“Let me get this straight, doctor,” you said, slowly losing patience. “Your only solution now is: let’s wait and see what happens?”

Drumming fingers against a piece of plastic, followed by a sigh.

“Yes. There is no effective treatment, we could try a high dosage of corticosteroids, but there is no evidence that it’s gonna make any difference, really. And as some recovery may spontaneously occur within days or weeks--”

Weeks.

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you swallowed with effort.

And that was a maybe.

You just wanted to go home.

“Grand,” you cut in, “please tell me I can wait for that possible joyful occurrence anywhere else but here.” You aimed for a lighter tone, but every word coming out of your mouth was dripping with bitterness. Grimacing at your own attitude, you forced a weak smile to appear on your face. “No offense, doc.”

“None taken,” the doctor said with a snicker. “I get it.” A short pause filled with a rustling of paper. “With all the tests done, I don’t think we need to keep you here for observation any longer, but I’d recommend you weren’t alone for the next few days. Do you have anyone to take care of you after we discharge you?”

“I don’t need--”

Neil’s firm voice overlapped with yours.

“Yes, she has.”

You huffed, startled. And a bit annoyed.

You almost forgot Neil was in the room, but to be fair, you were quite sure he’d never left your side since you woke up. His initial nervous chatter got replaced by a silent presence, always ready to jump in should you needed anything - no matter if it was a glass of water or an arm to lean on. It was all comforting, endearing even, and you were so grateful to have him around, but the thought of having Neil in your apartment triggered an irrational panic.

Instead of dwelling on the roots of the anxiety, you decided to over-talk it.

“Neil, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay, and you surely have better things to do than babysitting me.”

“I don’t.” Was that a hint of hurt in his voice? “Doctor, can you discharge her even if she is gonna be alone out there?”

“I’d rather she spent at least one more day here then.”

Unbelievable. You rolled your eyes, hoping it would make the same effect as always, and groaned. “Fine, you win, only because I want nothing else but to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Excellent,” said the doctor cheerfully, “I’ll get the forms and come back to you soon.”

“Thank you, doc,” you sighed, hanging your head in defeat.

After spending enough time with a person, it was always easy to recognize them by the way they walk. That’s how you knew it was Neil who approached you, ever so hesitantly.

And only because of a brush of his fingers against your hand you realized you were still clinging onto the bed frame.

“Hey, I’ll just help you set up everything you need there, all right?” he said quietly and you felt him sitting down next to you. “You’re gonna have all the space you want, and as soon as you decide it’s too much, I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

He must have noticed that little panic of yours, huh?

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to form a coherent thought. “It sounds good though, thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Neil shifted slightly. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and grimaced. “I don’t know, but either I’ve slept through the best high or these drugs they gave me are kinda lame.” Hearing Neil’s light chuckle, you cracked a small smile. “Honestly? I’m knackered.”

He hummed with sympathy.

“Is there anything I can do for you now?”

The softness in his voice was more than your tired and dazed mind could handle. You leaned to the side and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just… take me home,” you asked, forcing the words past your clenched throat.

Neil exhaled sharply and carefully wrapped an arm around you, pressing a cheek to the top of your head.

“Of course.”

------

“Welcome to my crib.”

“Thank you, it’s...” - Neil hesitated as he closed the door behind you - “...cosy.”

Patting the wall to your right, you located a small hook and hung the keys on it.

“That is certainly one word for it,” you snorted. “Why, what did you expect?”

“Frankly? Considering you’re such an... acclaimed locksmith, I imagined something… well, bigger, for starters.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he stumbled on words, trying so hard not to sound offensive in any way.

Grinning, you put on your most snobbish tone. “Ah, sorry to disappoint, all my gold, glitter, and general pizzaz got moved to one of my many summer houses as my spacious lair worthy of the most infamous thief is under renovation, so I was forced to retreat to my humble family place in this ghastly neighborhood.”

“Such a shame,” he said and a smile brightened his words. “I like it, though. Matches your vibe, somehow.”

“Because it’s small, detached, empty, yet somehow messy?”

Neil sighed in a way you were absolutely sure he was rolling eyes at you, then helped you with the coat. “It’s gonna take more than putting words in my mouth to make me want to leave you here all by yourself, you know.”

You were quite sure a dirty joke was hiding in there, but it eluded your tired brain.

“Damn, need to up my game then,” you giggled, leaning against the wall to take the shoes off without losing your balance. “Nah, I’m messing with you, I’m grateful you got me out of there. Can’t wait to rinse that hospital stench off of me.”

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

You mused over the idea for a moment, “Thanks, I’ll take a shower - two minutes tops and I’d end up asleep in the ‘tub.” Probably even faster, considering that you already were running on fumes. “Anyway, make yourself at home, gonna grab some fresh clothes.”

Neil was not willing to give up.

“I’ll get you--”

“I’ve got this,” you uttered, instantly hating yourself for how harsh it came out, so you quickly added, “But would you please put the kettle on?” sending an apologetic grimace along with your words.

“On it.”

He seemed happy to have something to do. Or at least sounded like it as he took the crackling grocery and takeaway bags to the kitchenette.

You walked across the room with confidence, your hand reluctantly extended ahead on your waist level just in case you miscalculated the route to the bedroom. When you reached the door frame, you smiled to yourself. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Almost like going to the bathroom at night, not willing to put the light on to avoid waking up, right?

And exactly then, your shin hit the edge of the bed footboard, the impact sending a searing wave of pain up your whole leg. You bit your knuckle to stifle a groan and a curse that was bound to follow. Every. Goddamn. Time.

The noises coming from the other room stopped, but luckily there was no question. Nor a hero coming to rescue you from the sudden and vicious attacks of furniture.

Finally, the closet. Your fingers ran through the folded clothes. Clean underwear. A soft t-shirt. Comfy pj pants. The fatigue was so severe that the term dress to impress didn’t even cross your mind. Not that Neil cared, right? But before you stepped back from the wardrobe, you hesitated, sliding your hands down to one of the bottom drawers. All that boring into nothingness was straining, and keeping your eyes closed all the time felt wrong, somehow. Might as well, you shrugged, pulling out a silky blindfold. Maybe this would trick your brain into thinking it was just a game. A temporary thing. Nothing serious.

...but what if--

You took a shaky breath and slammed the closet shut. Swallowing with effort, you took the clothes and limped out of the room, then followed the wall to the bathroom.

Neil’s concerned voice reached you halfway there.

“You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said and flashed your teeth in a strained grin.

“Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

A change of strategy, then. You certainly didn’t mind, at least this way it didn’t trigger the unnecessarily rude reaction. And you had a feeling that you were going to need a pair of eyes to take care of those bruises of yours.

...or you could just follow the radiating ache and slap some gel where it hurts most, but at this point, as the painkillers were slowly wearing off, it would probably be easier to just pour the whole tube on the tiles and roll over in it.

“Will do, thanks.”

You closed the door behind you and sighed. The undressing required an accompaniment of grunts, hisses and curses, and when you finally got into the shower (hitting yourself only once while doing so) you were all sweaty and panting as if you’d run up twenty flights of stairs.

You winced as the warm water poured over your body, but you couldn’t wait to get rid of the lingering smell of antiseptics. Using soap uncovered the injured spots with a burning precision, but you gritted your teeth and soldiered through it, changing position slightly so you wouldn’t cause more damage with shampoo and conditioner. Condemning your past self for choosing a matching set of hair products, you were forced to guess and pick one to pour a little bit of it on your hand to judge which is which based on the texture of the fluid. Why did you even bother…?

When you were done and more or less dry, you put on the panties and wrapped another towel around yourself. A slow thumping in your head was growing stronger by the minute, but it was still bearable. As for taking care of the bruises… you realized you didn’t even know where the arnica ointment was. You’d bought one on your way just in case, but that meant--

You groaned and rubbed an eye with the back of your hand. Help it was, then.

“Neil?” you called out, cracking open the door.

A sudden rumble of a chair made you cringe, but a corner of your mouth twitched.

“What is it?” he asked as his rushed steps carried him closer.

“Could you help me with putting something on the most banged-up spots, please?” - a sheepish smile crept on your lips - “I thought about just mixing some cream with my lotion and rubbing it all over, but--”

He scoffed as if the idea personally offended him. “Jesus, please don’t. I’ll be right back.”

Your legs seemed to weigh a tonne, but also started to shake as though they were about to give in any moment, so you sat back on the edge of a bathtub with relief.

Neil came back after a while and muffled clanking suggested he brought a full medkit with him. You waited as he washed his hands thoroughly, and you stifled an amused giggle at the dedication, even though it was nothing more but common sense.

Neil’s soft voice broke the silence. “I’m gonna take a look at those wounds first, but for that, I need to touch you, is it okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you shrugged. “I imagine you can’t do plenty without that, huh?”

A light chuckle. “Fair enough.” And featherlike touches that followed.

Careful fingers examining every bruised inch of skin, starting from the freshly hurt shin, scraped knees, going up your thighs until they met the edge of the towel. Then, ghosting over your hands, unhurriedly moving up the forearms…

You realized your breath got shaky.

He tucked a still quite damp strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips glided over your forehead and down your temple, traced your jawline up to your chin. His knuckles grazed your neck, then moved across your collarbones, but when they met the towel again, Neil hesitated.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” you joked playfully and untucked the corner of the towel, letting it slide down your body.

A sharp inhale and a slipped-out curse.

“Christ…” uttered Neil, and you were quite sure what he was referring to. Your hip pulsated with dull pain in the place where the oxygen container had been, or rather where it must have moved to during the escape, bruising the hip bone and surrounding area at the impact.

You forced a crooked smile to your face. “And here I was hoping it looked better than it felt.”

“I can always lie to you if you want,” he offered, aiming for a lighter tone.

Shaking your head, you nibbled on your bottom lip. Somehow, the sole thought of him lying to you seemed like a certain heartache.

“No.” Your voice sounded weak, but maybe that was understandable, given how powerless you felt overall. Or maybe you could stop being so pathetic any moment now.

You closed your eyes, and while you tried to parley with your brain to give you a break, Neil started meticulously treating your wounds, focused on not causing any more discomfort than it was needed. You switched all your attention to his ministrations, grimacing slightly from time to time as he was tending particularly sore spots. Neil’s warm fingers contrasted with the cold ointment, all the different sensations fought a merciless battle to take precedence over one another, making even more of a mess in your tired head.

You heard Neil shifting in front of you as he was about to move to your injured face. Acting on an impulse, you spread your legs to allow him to come closer, and so he did, positioning himself on his knees between your thighs without a word. Quite a concentration, you thought and smiled fondly to your memories of the times you’d seen him so committed to a task. Slightly furrowed brows, blonde strands falling into shining blue eyes, with a bottom lip tugged between the teeth...

A brief touch on your temple brought you back to reality and you gasped, reaching out to hold on to Neil to keep your balance. As you rested your hands on his sides, he gently cupped your face and continued with taking care of the bruises. It felt as if the warmth radiating from him was mending you whole, even more so when it got combined with tender, soothing brushes of Neil’s thumb against your cheek. You melted into his palm and exhaled slowly, dropping your shoulders and relaxing.

Before you could stop the words from spilling out, you said under your breath, “It was just a fall, I don’t know how it got that bad,” voicing the thought that’s been on your head all day.

Neil pulled back abruptly and the tranquil moment shattered like glass against the bathroom tiles.

“Are you being serious right now? Just a fall? You’re lucky you’re alive, goddamnit, let alone able to walk!” Disbelief mixed with anger in his tone, taking you aback. And to your surprise, it felt like yet another wound, inflicted right at your chest. “Y-you hit the wall before you crashed on the ground, you--” his voice broke and Neil sighed. You heard him packing the medkit, simply tossing things inside before he moved away.

“Oh,” was all you could say, reaching for the abandoned towel to wrap it over your shoulders, in a sudden and desperate need to cover yourself. In every way possible. “Remind me to tie a cat and a buttered slice of bread to myself the next time we do this.”

He didn’t respond to your poor attempt at lighting up the mood, instead, you heard the door handle, a deadpanned “I’ll heat up the food” and he was gone.

You had no idea where his reaction had come from. Normally, you’d have followed him straight away to confront him, but right then you felt so exhausted and helpless you just slouched in your spot, with your hands fisted on the towel, and sat like that for a while, leveling your breath. You mustered all the strength you had left, found your clothes and put them on. Then, you tied the blindfold, letting a piece of sleek material bring a shred of comfort and hide a pitiful glimmer in the corners of your eyes.

You joined Neil in the other room and sat at the table. He didn’t comment on your attire nor the choice of accessories, hell, he barely even spoke to you when he put the plate in front of you, as well as through the whole meal.

Even though you’d picked up your favourite comfort food on the way, it tasted bland, and with your stomach tied into a knot, you couldn’t force more than a few bites into your system. Judging by the sounds - or rather the lack thereof - coming from across the table, Neil’d lost his appetite too.

Finally, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence. “I think I’m full,” you said and stood up, grimacing slightly.

“I’ll do the dishes, go lie down,” he said quietly. “Please.”

As if he anticipated an argument. You really had no energy for that.

“Thank you. Are you--...” you stumbled on the question, but Neil chimed in.

“I’ll be on the couch.”

...maybe it was for the best.

You nodded and turned on your heel to fetch a spare pillow and a blanket while Neil was occupied with the dishes. The ever-growing headache was becoming unbearable, but you hoped that the sweet arms of Morpheus would bring a much-needed release soon. You brushed your teeth quickly and mumbling “‘night,” you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door half open for god knows what reasons. Perhaps to make you feel less alone.

The plan of sleeping off the worst pain looked good on paper but proved to be too hard to execute. That bloody awful feeling of being tired beyond comprehension and still unable to doze off, right? You tossed and turned (although carefully), trying to find the most comfortable position. After a while, you took the blindfold off and curled on your side, staring into the nothingness again. Listening to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Forcing every breath through your clenched chest. Trying to focus on anything other than neverending soreness.

You heard Neil’s footsteps and how they stopped right at your door. Stalling.

And you didn’t even try pretending you were asleep. Waiting.

“Hey... I wanted to check if you need anything before I turn in for the night.”

The softness of his voice was tainted by something as if he was holding back. But you were so glad to hear it anyway.

“Actually,” you said, propping yourself on the elbow and wincing, “could you bring me one of those fancy painkillers, please? I thought I might do without for a little while but-- ...yeah, not quite.”

“Of course, coming right up.”

When Neil was back, you sat on the bed, allowing him to hand you a glass and ...a shot glass? You shook the latter slightly and something rattled inside.

“Ah, okay, smart,” you smiled with recognition. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me you thought it was vodka?”

A hint of amusement in his tone made you snort.

“I can’t say I would mind,” - shrugging, you swallowed the pill and washed it down with cool water - “but this is gonna be more efficient, I guess.”

You shifted in your spot to put down both glasses on a bedside table. Neil was there to make sure you actually placed them on top of it, pushing your forearm gently when you were about to create a mess.

That light touch brought a lump back to your throat. As if the awkward silence wasn’t suffocating you enough.

“If that’s all…” said Neil quietly, taking a step towards the door.

But you reached out into the darkness and found his hand.

“Neil…” you squeezed his fingers, desperately trying to convey words that eluded you. Your plea was barely a whisper. “...stay?”

The pulse pounded in your ears as the stillness that followed seemed to last forever.

Then, Neil squeezed your hand back.

“I will,” he choked out, and his thumb grazed over your knuckles. “Be right back.”

You nodded and let go of his hand, not even sure that he could see your gesture, then moved to the other side of the bed. The held-back breath escaped in a shudder as another wave of pain overrode your senses, leaving a trail of cold sweat down your spine.

A faint tock of the light switch in the other room, then footsteps and a pillow landing next to yours. Neil snuggled down, keeping his distance, and you curled again in your spot, hoping that his proximity will calm you down enough to fall asleep. But as you said your goodnights and Neil’s breath leveled and got deeper, you still waited on the pills to start working, getting more and more lost in your own head and thoughts you’d managed to keep lidded on until now.

Because if only you’d cracked that safe faster. Or maybe if you’d discussed that escape route beforehand, somebody would have found a better path through the roofs. No, scratch that, the plan was tight, and it was your goddamn fault that you’d gotten distracted by a sodding rain, of all things. And that jump? Bloody amateur hour. Should have seen that coming, stepped to the side, or caught onto anything. You’d been granted a second chance at that wall. But no, you’d had to panic like a bush-leaguer, as if it had been your first fall in your life. And now you were lying there, feeling sorry for yourself. Abso-fucking-lutely pathetic.

What if Madame Karma finally decided to make you pay? What if you were never going to get your sight back? A warm tear trickled down your face slowly. No more free runs and adrenaline rushes while taking shortcuts through the most obscure places. No more lying on the rooftops to observe how the sky changes colours through the night. No more sitting on the hill and watching how the sun reflected in the river. How it danced on that messy blonde hair. You would never see his blue eyes lighting up again--

Your chin trembled as the tears stained your pillow. It felt as if you were nothing but pain, fear, and heartbreak. Pressing your lips together, you stifled a sob that shook your body mercilessly. You were nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

You wanted to brush it off, to tell him you were okay and he could go back to sleep. But instead, you sniffled and whimpered, unable to pass any word through your tightened throat.

Neil gasped and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, come here,” he said softly as his fingers pressed lightly onto your back, urging you to move and you shifted into his embrace, clenching your fists on his t-shirt, struggling for every breath. “I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he cooed, wrapping the arms around you gingerly. A much-needed reassurance whispered over and over again like a plea to anyone who could be listening.

Weeping quietly into Neil’s chest, you sought refuge in his closeness, clinging onto him as he held you and stroked your hair, waiting for the worst to pass. Soon, you ran out of tears, and there were just sobs, convulsing you whole like a heart-wrenching hiccup. Neil hugged you a little tighter, placed a small kiss on top of your head, and started humming, a melody barely more than a murmur. It felt familiar, but why?

By and by, the song and a steady heartbeat against your cheek weaved together and calmed your racing mind. Enough to finally let you drift off, with Neil’s soothing voice and warmth enveloping you, bringing comfort and hope for a better tomorrow.

-----

You should have known better than to expect something to be different when you woke up. Swallowing down the disappointment and resignation, you dug yourself up from under the covers. The pain dialed down, but was very much there, especially during sudden moves.

Maybe you would feel better if you washed your face, still a bit puffed after all that--

…oh shit.

Your brain halted, torn between making you cringe and spreading the warmth through your chest. If you were to survive the day, the key was not to think about what happened last night. At least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes, huh? Armed with a smile, albeit a bit sour, you grabbed some clothes on your way out and ventured into the quiet living room.

“Neil?”

For a split second you were sure he was gone, but--

“Over here.” Judging by the sound of it, here was somewhere near the couch. “How are you feeling?”

Concern. Obviously. He’d seen you at your worst, so there was no point in hiding your state.

“Like I’ve spent some time inside a cement mixer,” you sighed. “But better, thanks. What time is it?”

“Almost 3 o’clock.” A faint thud of a book being put down. “Are you hungry? I was about to fix something.”

It was a good moment for your insides to growl in confirmation, but at least this time your body decided to spare you. Although your stomach was pretty much cleaving to your backbone, all right.

“Oh yes, please.” You smiled with appreciation and raised a hand with a bundle of clothes. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

That minute took a little longer, as your mobility was still pretty lacking, but fresh as a (beaten-up) daisy, in a comfortable outfit and a blindfold, you followed your nose to the kitchenette.

“Smells delicious.”

A soft chuckle came through the sizzling. “Hope it tastes good as well, wanna try?” When you nodded, you heard Neil walking up to you. “Open your mouth, careful - it’s hot.”

You recognized the rich flavor as some variation of the Napoli sauce, perfectly balanced, and you could only hum in approval. Where the hell had he gotten those herbs from?

“It’s amazing,” you said, but couldn’t resist a little smirk, “or I’m just starving.”

Neil scoffed lightly. “Might be that.” There was a smile and a hint of pride in his tone, and it made you beam a little wider. “Come sit down.”

When you did, and a bowl of pasta landed in front of you on the table, your mind involuntarily went back to last evening. That tension. Sudden distance. Everything after that. What was worse, it seemed like you weren’t the only one thinking about it, because the silence that fell between you now grew heavy with unresolved issues lingering in the air.

But maybe you were misreading the room and you were fine.

“Listen, about yesterday--”

...or not.

Instead of letting Neil finish, you panicked, and before you could stop yourself, you used his moment of hesitation to blurt out, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I was exhausted and everything hurt and--” you frowned and hid the face in your palm. The shame felt like a tightening ring around your chest, making it hard to breathe. ”I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Wait, what?” huffed Neil, his voice filled with consternation. ”Jesus, no, that’s not what I meant, I--” he faltered and groaned, then added more softly, “Why are you even apologizing for that?” And when you shook your head, unable to find the right words, Neil gently touched your arm, rubbing it up and down slowly. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

Your heart clenched with fondness as you palmed over his hand.

“Thank you for being there for me.”

A twist of the wrist and a light squeeze on your fingers.

“Of course.”

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After a moment, you asked quietly, “If it isn’t about that, then what?”

A loud buzz cut through the air, the unexpected noise almost making you jump in your seat. Impeccable timing.

Neil picked the vibrating phone from the table. “It’s work, I have to get that.” His hand was still holding yours, reluctant to let go. “If I’m not done by the time you finish eating, two words: bed rest.”

“May I make it a couch rest, doc?” you grinned, and by the resigned sigh you could tell Neil definitely rolled his eyes at you.

“Just make yourself comfy and horizontal, all right?” A final brush of his thumb against your fingers and he was up, walking off from the table. “Hi, what’s up?”

Whatever they needed him for, it took so much time that you finished your meal and obediently moved to the couch. That unfinished talk left you anxious enough to nervously pick at the edge of the blanket, but as Neil was still lost in a hushed conversation, and the aforementioned blanket was way too cosy, you slowly drifted off into a dreamless nap.

You weren’t sure what woke you up - a shift on the other side of the couch, or a heavy sigh, one of those signaling the weight of the whole world on somebody’s shoulders. Hearing the latter was enough to wipe the remains of sleep from your system and you sat up, grunting slightly.

“What is it?”

Another sigh.

“I’m an idiot.”

You puffed your cheeks and shrugged, a corner of your mouth twitching in a nervous smile.

“Before I let out a purposeful no and kick you - why are you saying that?” Silence. “...Neil?” When the answer was not coming for too long, you moved to your knees, reaching out until you touched his shoulder. No reaction. Trying to keep a rising worry at bay, you urged him quietly, “Talk to me, please.”

Neil inhaled slowly and he finally spoke, his voice barely there.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked, knitting your brows together as you brushed your hand down his arm only to find his clenched fist, tightening even further under your touch.

“For yesterday, for letting it out on you, when you were just--” he paused to swallow audibly, and then continued, blurting out one strained word after another, “and all of that while this whole mess is my goddamn fault because if I hadn’t hesitated out there, we both would have made it in time--”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that to yourself,” you said, crawling into his lap and nestling between his legs, wrapping yours around his waist. “It was a perfectly normal reaction.” The pulse thumped in your ears when you placed one hand on Neil’s chest and the other one travelled up along his neck to cup his face. Then your thumb glided over a wet trail on his cheek and it felt as if your heart shattered into a million pieces. Oh please, no. “My darling...” you whispered, but it was as if Neil barely acknowledged you were there, trembling and lost.

He pressed his forehead to yours and continued, traces of dread ringing in his hollow tone more and more with every choked-out sentence.

“When I turned back and I saw that--….at first, I thought you’d been shot, then you fell and-- suddenly all I could think was if your oxygen container was intact, or--... I called the Cavalry on the way down but I was so scared I was too late, I thought--” his voice broke and you felt him frowning as he shuddered, struggling to carry on. “I thought that you were gone, and I didn’t--”

His heart raced under your palm while you kept stroking his cheek, consoling him softly, “Neil, I’m here, it’s all right, I’m here.” But when that didn’t seem like enough to bring him back to you, you reached to his neck to pull him closer and kissed him, desperate to make him stop spiralling down. To make him stop hurting.

A muffled whine against your lips. But then you felt him melt and he kissed you back, still helpless, wrapping his arms around you carefully as if he expected you to fall apart under his touch. Not quite there. You deepened the kiss purposefully, burying your hands in his hair, tugging at the strands as you pressed yourself to him as much as you could in your position. You didn’t care about your own pain or discomfort. If any of you were meant to be lost in any way, it might as well be this. Neil gasped and lifted you up so you properly straddled him, then tightened the embrace, clinging on to you for dear life as he captured you in another kiss, and this time it was his turn to try to convey the unbearable mixture of despair, relief, and immense longing. All of that poured into this simple act of devotion until there was nothing but pure need. To touch and to be touched. To hold and to be held. To be close. To be wanted. To be found.

A breathless moan escaped your mouth and Neil pulled back ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, his fingertips gliding over your features.

Oh, how much you missed looking into his eyes.

The fact that he cared, without simply going ahead with it, made your chest clench with fondness. At this point, you trusted him beyond reason, although it was still nice to hear it.

“I’m not made of glass,” you huffed, nuzzling his nose.

A low hum and a trail of kisses along your jawline. You shivered when his lips reached a spot just below your ear and then smiled against your skin.

“Are you sure?” his husky voice was playful, but you knew he was double-checking.

“Try me.”

That moment was not about chasing the high. It was about feeling each other. Being with one another. As close as possible. That couldn’t wait, and neither could any of you, tugging at the clothes in random order with urgency.

Neil looped his arm around your shoulders, settling you on your side in his embrace. Keeping you steady. Safe. Close. And even though his kisses were desperate and leaving you winded, his touch was gentle, and you knew the blue eyes were watching you attentively, ready to react to the smallest sign of discomfort. But also to any encouragement to go further.

A hitched breath. A leg hooked on his hip. Fingers dragged across his back.

He was ready to give you everything and take whatever you were willing to offer. And you wanted to do the same for him until everything else lost its meaning and it was just you and him, and the fire that burned inside you. Searing every nerve. Cleansing the doubts. Numbing the pain. Lighting up the darkness. And, in the end, bringing resolution as you both came undone, moaning and gasping for air only to be comforted by hands cupping cheeks and yet another kiss. Slow. Tender. Full of admiration.

When Neil drew back and shifted slightly, you whined in protest, wrapping your leg around him tighter to keep him in place.

“Where are you going?”

A quiet chuckle, followed by a feeling of a soft blanket sliding over your naked body. And a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You sighed with content as Neil pulled you closer again. The light stubble scratched your fingers as they studied the impossible angles of his face unhurriedly.

“Good.”

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #long nights

[dlwritings]

Help in Three Phases | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - roommate!Tom x reader word count - 4,359 warnings - language, period talk, masturbation (f), use of vibrator, oral (f receiving), m/f sex A/N - idk I’m pmsing pretty bad and this is how I’m feeling so here we are

summary - Your period hits you in three phases, and after living with Tom for six months, he finally starts to catch on to what you need during each one.

You had been living with Tom for a long time, and you loved it. You got along really well and made the perfect pair of roommates. Growing up, the two of you had been best friends. When you wanted to move out of your parents’ house but couldn’t afford to live on your own yet, Tom felt it was only natural to offer up his spare bedroom. You’d only have to pay half the rent, and if you missed a month, Tom would have no difficulty covering for you.

There was only one problem that came from being so close to Tom, and that was your dating life. For years, guys wouldn’t approach you because they assumed you were with Tom. And when they found out you weren’t, they were scared away by the fact that you lived with him. It was completely infuriating. Yes, you had, from time to time, wondered what it might be like to cross that line with him, but you were just best friends, and you hated how much that hindered any option you had in the dating world. It grew especially frustrating during one specific time of the month.

You were two things when you were PMSing: irritable and clingy. Not a period cycle went by where you didn’t wish you were the weepy girl on her period. No. You were the pissy girl. You got mad at everything, and you knew you were the worst to be around. All of the problems started about three days before your period actually hit and didn’t end until three days later. So while most girls dealt with seven days of a period, you basically dealt with seven days of bleeding and six days of side effects. Thus, your period came in three phases.

Phase one.

The days before your period, you had cravings and mood swings. The first day you felt it coming this time around, you and Tom had just finished dinner, and you were eagerly anticipating digging into your ice cream that was waiting for you in the freezer. Only it wasn’t there. You felt your jaw and your fists clench in anger. “Thomas,” you started, “where’s my ice cream?”

“Hmm?” Tom hummed from where he was loading the dishwasher.

“Where’s my ice cream?” you repeated, turning on your heel to face him. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You finished it two days ago,” he said.

“No I fucking did not,” you said. “I was specifically saving it for today.”

“Right,” Tom said slowly, “but then two nights ago, you got drunk and said to me, I was going to save this, but I’m gonna eat it now because -and I quote- fuck self control.”

“And you let me?” you snapped.

Tom scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to argue with drunk (Y/N) about whether or not she should eat her ice cream.” You groaned dramatically, slammed the freezer door shut, and stormed off to your room.

The next day, you were having a saltier craving. You were sitting in bed, watching an episode of New Girl, when you suddenly started to crave nachos. You pushed yourself out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, getting a plate from the cupboard and opening a bag of tortilla chips. When you opened the fridge to get some shredded cheese, you could feel your face grow hot in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled to yourself. “This is easily the most frustrating fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“What’s going on?” Tom asked from his spot on the couch.

“We don’t have any fucking shredded cheese!” you huffed. “How do we not have shredded fucking cheese?”

“Jesus Christ,” he chuckled.

“You’re going to wish Jesus Christ was here if we don’t get some shredded cheese in this house soon.”

The next day, on your way home from work, you stopped at the store to pick up some panty liners and chocolate. When you got home, you set the bag on the counter, the sound of rustling plastic peaking Tom’s interest. “What’d you get from the store?” he asked.

“Chocolate,” you said.

“Chocolate?” Tom repeated.

“For me,” you emphasized.

“Don’t you know sharing is caring?” he asked.

“Right,” you said. “Well, when you develop a uterus, consider my stash your stash.”

Phase two.

The next day, like clockwork, you woke up with an aching back, a nauseous stomach, and an immediate need to use the bathroom. This was the first part of the phase where your lack of significant other really put a damper on things. You were crabby, and all you wanted was to be held and cared for.

And after six months of living together, Tom finally started to notice your shift in mood during phase two. It wasn’t that he didn’t know you were on your period, and he wasn’t oblivious to the cranky stage that came before this one. But now, he was starting to realize just how upset you got during your period. Yes, you were still cranky, but you were also just down in the dumps. He never saw you cry, but then again, he never really saw you. You rarely left your room, but when you did, you had a permanent frown etched on your face.

Tom didn’t have any sisters, and none of his relationships had ever been serious enough that he saw a girlfriend through her periods. So, when it came to handling a girl when she was menstruating, he took advice from Harrison. After all, he had a sister. And Harrison told Tom to steer clear of you and give you space. So for that week each month, that’s what Tom did. But you were Tom’s best friend, and he loved you. Seeing you so upset and sitting back like it wasn’t happening was too difficult.

So this time around, Tom decided to change up the routine. You hadn’t come out for your ice cream yet, so he went to the freezer, got out your unopened pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a spoon, and made his way to your room. He knocked on the door, waited for your words of permission, and walked in. You had all the lights off and the shades drawn, so you were only illuminated by the TV screen where New Girl was playing. “Hey,” you mumbled. “Is my TV too loud?”

“No,” Tom said with a shake of his head. “No, I, uh, I brought you your ice cream.”

“Oh,” you said, surprise in your voice. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he said, walking over to your bed to hand it to you. “Do you want some company or anything?” Your eyebrows raised.

“Seriously?” you asked. The tips of Tom’s ears turned pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bug you. I just thought-“

“No, no,” you said quickly. “I’m just surprised. You usually avoid me like the plague during this week.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I thought I was supposed to.”

“Let me guess,” you said with a grin. “Harrison?” Tom just smiled, so you patted the bed next to you, and he came to sit down, pulling the covers over his legs. You adjusted the hot pad on your back and relaxed again against the pillows. There was an awkward space between you and Tom, mostly because Tom didn’t want to overstep. It wasn’t that you guys didn’t cuddle, but he honest to god didn’t know how to approach you when you were on your period. What if he touched you and you just snapped?

But then he noticed how wiggly you were getting and opened his arms up. “Wanna cuddle?” he offered. You smiled gratefully and nodded, adjusting yourself again and cuddling up to his side.

“Sorry if my hot pad gets too warm,” you said.

“No worries,” he said, pulling you close to his side. “Whatever makes you feel better.” You nodded and nuzzled your cheek against his chest. Tom knew what kind of touches you liked best, so he moved his hand to the top of your head and started massaging your scalp and running your fingers through your hair. You hummed contently which made his heart feel warm.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you muttered. “I really needed this.”

“Of course, darling,” he whispered. “All you had to do was ask, and I’d be here.”

That was how you spent the rest of your free time during the week: cuddled up in bed with Tom watching New Girl. He made you dinner most days, and when he didn’t, it was because he ordered take out. 98-percent of you was thrilled, but then there were the other two. Being this close to Tom was fulfilling that desire you had for a significant other to be there for you, and it was messing with your head. You had been harboring a crush for Tom for as long as you had known him, but you had always been able to keep a lid on it. With him doing this for you, it was hard to stop yourself from bursting.

Phase three.

Your period was in the rear view mirror, but now came arguably the worst part. Because after your period, you were insanely horny. This time around, it was even worse. For that, you blamed Tom. And he may’ve been able to help during phase two, but no way were you going to ask him to help during phase three. No matter how badly you wanted to.

You got out of the shower and dried off, settling into clean sheets without putting on your pajamas. You kept the sheets off of you as you reached into your bedside drawer and pulled out your vibrator. It buzzed to life when you pressed the button, and you brought it straight to your nipples, running it over each of them until they were both hard. Then you trailed it down your stomach before pausing at your core. It was a rabbit, so it was made to stimulate your clit and your pussy at the same time. You were already clenching in anticipation as you teased yourself, letting the vibrator dance across your outer lips. Your thighs were slick with your juices, and you were able to slide the toy inside you with no problem.

Normally, you weren’t loud when you masturbated, but it took a lot to silence yourself. You often had your face buried in your pillow or your teeth biting harshly into your lower lip. That night, you were so far gone, keeping your moans quiet wasn’t exactly in the forefront of your mind. Your pussy was clenching the vibrator so tightly, and the vibrations were making your head hazy.

“Oh shit,” you breathed out. Every time you used the toy after a week of PMSing, you felt like you were in heaven. Sure, it was nothing compared to a real dick, but it sure did a damn good job at satisfying you.

You were sure Tom’s dick would be more satisfying though.

Then, you were picturing him railing into you, your face pressed against the mattress and his fingers leaving bruises on your hips. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about him while pleasuring yourself, but it was the first time his name left your lips while doing it.

“Tom,” you moaned. It wasn’t too loud, but you still forced your teeth to sink into your lower lip to stop it from happening again.

But the damage had already been done, because Tom walked right by your door when you said his name. He didn’t think anything of it, just assuming you heard him walking by and needed him for something. His light knock on the door caused your heart to race against your chest. You fumbled to get the covers over yourself but didn’t have time to turn off the vibrator before he came in. You gripped the sheets close to your chest and ignored the vibrator buzzing on the bed between your thighs. It was no longer inside you, but it was so close to your core that you were still feeling the shocks.

“What’s up?” you asked, praying you sounded chill.

“You called my name,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. You shook your head and frowned.

“No I didn’t,” you said. You knew you didn’t sound convincing. Tom furrowed his eyebrows but seemed amused.

“I swear you did,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it again when he heard something. “Is your phone going off?”

“What?” you said, feeling panic settling in your chest. “No.”

“Are you sure?” he said, patting his own pants pockets. “I hear something vibrating.”

“Nope,” you said, then laughed awkwardly. “You must be hearing things, Holland.”

Tom could tell you were hiding something, and he liked how flustered you seemed. It was funny to him. He took a few steps closer to you, and your body froze. “What are you doing?” you asked, hoping he didn’t notice your voice shake.

He laughed. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. “Can’t you just go?”

“You’re hiding something,” he said. “And I only know one way to get you to spill.”

Your eyes grew wide at what he was insinuating. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “No, Tom, don’t.” He ignored you and jumped on the bed, gripping your hips over the sheets and tickling you. “Tom!” you said, trying to wiggle away from him while still keeping your body covered.

And then, he felt it.

The vibrator buzzed against his knee causing him to stop his actions in their tracks. You were mortified. Tom didn’t look at you. Instead, he looked down at his knee as if trying to stare through the sheet to see the toy in question. You didn’t know what to say. You were busted. There was no way around it. How were you going to talk your way out of this one?

What you hadn’t expected was for Tom to grab your sheet and pull it off your body. You were frozen in shock as you watched him. His eyes were still fixated on the vibrator, now noticing that it was covered in your slick. When he finally looked at you, you realized his pupils were so blown that his eyes looked black. You were waiting for him to say something or even leave the room in disgust. Instead, Tom picked up your vibrator and turned it over in his hands, not at all seeming to mind that it was wet.

“Do you think of me a lot when you do this?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, and Tom surprised you by pressing the vibrator against your clit. A choked out moan passed your lips and your hips lifted. “Answer me,” he said.

“Yes,” you cried. “Yes, I do, Tom.” He pulled the vibrator away, and you whined at the feeling. He looked up at you again, and you felt embarrassed tears come to your eyes as you closed your legs and covered your chest with your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “Please, please just go, and I’ll never-“

“Open your legs.”

Your eyes widened as you tried to process what he said. You looked at him and saw he was staring at your body.

“What?” you said. Tom lifted his head to look in your eyes, and his expression softened.

“You tell me you don’t want my help,” he said, “and I’ll go. But-“ He cut himself off, needing to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking. “-fuck, let me help you.”

Instead of answering him with words, you moved your hands from your chest and spread your legs apart. Tom wasted no time situating himself between your legs, your vibrator still in his hand. He licked his lips before bringing the toy to your cunt, pushing it inside you inch by inch. His mouth watered at how eager your pussy was to take the vibrator, and he imagined how tightly you’d squeeze his cock.

The smaller part of the vibrator pressed against your clit every time Tom pushed the toy inside you. He worked it slowly, and you were writhing on the bed above him. You both jumped when his finger hit one of the buttons, and the vibration setting changed. “How many different vibrations are there?” he asked you, not taking his eyes off your cunt.

“Uh, huh, 30,” you stuttered.

“30,” Tom repeated, like he was testing the number on his lips. “‘S a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“You use them all?” he asked.

“Not all the time,” you managed to say. He pulled the toy out of you until just the tip was inside. You whined and tried to lift your hips, but he put his arm across your stomach to stop you. He pressed the button again, trying out another vibration. He kept clicking until he stopped on one whose pattern and intensity intrigued him.

“You like this one?” he asked. He sounded genuinely curious, but you were too focused on the fact that Tom was holding a vibrator against your cunt to answer him in any significant way.

“I like them all,” you said. Your eyes were closed, so you couldn’t see the smirk that danced across Tom’s lips. He thrust the toy inside you causing you to cry out in pleasure. Every time he pulled it away and the small part left your clit, you wanted to beg him to put it back. He always did. His thrusts were slow but rough, pounding the toy inside you so it hit the right spots each time.

When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you bit your lip to stop yourself from saying something you might regret. Tom noticed.

“Wanna hear you say it,” he muttered, pulling the toy away from where you wanted it most. You forced your eyes open to see Tom was biting his lower lip. His pupils were still blown, but his expression was soft, almost vulnerable. How was he the vulnerable one right then?

You knew what he wanted, and when he pushed the toy back inside you, his name fell from your lips. With a few more thrusts, you were cumming. You grabbed Tom’s hand and forced him to keep the toy in place, the vibrations destroying your clit in the best way possible. Your moans were so wrecked, and the way you called Tom’s name like a prayer made his already hard dick throb in his sweats.

When he pulled the toy out of you, he noticed the way your pussy clenched around nothing. He shut the toy off, and you kept your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath. You were so focused on coming down from your high that you shrieked when you felt Tom’s mouth on your core. “Tommy,” you moaned, gripping his hair in your hands. He lapped up your cunt, savoring each drop of your cum like he wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. He could tell by how you wanted him to use the toy that you needed clit stimulation, so he gave you that. He rolled your clit with his tongue, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure. Your thighs started squeezing his head, but he held them apart, growling in warning against your cunt. You cried out, begging him for something you couldn’t quite word. Whatever it was, he somehow knew, because he had you cumming again in just the right number of minutes. He let you savor it; he didn’t rush it.

You looked down at him when he pulled away, and you noticed his lips were coated in your orgasm. You smiled in embarrassment as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He surprised you when he started kissing up your body. His lips stopped at your jaw, and he pulled back to look in your eyes. You stared at each other for a few moments before you both moved a fraction closer to each other to close the space between you in a kiss. It wasn’t as desperate and needy as you expected it to be, and you hoped and prayed that this meant something to Tom like it did to you. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. “You say the word and I’m done,” he said. “No pressure. No obligation. No-“

You cut him off. “Fuck me, Tom.” The corner of his lip raised into his cheeky smirk, and he kissed you again. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised by the affectionate action, but you loved it. You kissed him back, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your core against the bulge in his pants. You gripped his t-shirt in your fists and tugged it up his body until he pulled away and yanked it over his head, tossing it to the side. He sat back on his heels and tugged his sweats and boxers down at the same time, moving around to take them off completely. His dick was even better than you imagined it might be. He was the perfect length, and he was thick, the tip red and already leaking precum.

“Shit,” Tom muttered. “Do you have a condom?”

You sighed. “No.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ve got some in my room.”

“Mm, okay,” you hummed, pressing your thighs together. “Hurry back.” You moved your hand slowly down your stomach, then traced up and down your thighs. You swore you’d never seen someone move as quickly as Tom did then, jumping off your bed and rushing out the door. When he came back, he already had the condom packet open, which made you giggle. He grinned and got back on the bed, rolling the condom on his length with a satisfied sigh. You thought he would push into you right away, but instead, he brought his lips down to yours again. He didn’t quite let them press together, just hovered over your lips before kissing across your cheek and to your ear.

“Tell me, love,” he said. “What do you think about when you think of me?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he lined himself up, letting the tip of his cock brush against your clit. “Ah, fuck,” you breathed out. “Hard and fast. Choking me. Pulling my hair. Fuck-” Tom thrust into you without warning, giving you no time to adjust before pounding into you. He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth gaped open. Your head almost hit the headboard with the force he was fucking you, and the room was full of your moans and slapping skin.

Tom surprised you when he pulled out of you so he could turn you over and slam into you from behind. He pulled you up by your hair so your back was arched, and you cried out in pleasure. “Yes,” you screamed. “Just like that, Tom. Fuck!” He pulled you up even more so your back was flush to his chest, and he moved his hand from your hair to your throat.

Again, better than you imagined.

He cut off your airflow just enough to make your head feel hazy. “You like that?” he muttered in your ear. “Fuck, you’re squeezing my cock so tight, you must love it.”

“Tom,” you gasped out. 

“You gonna cum for me, darling?” he asked. You nodded as much as you could, and Tom pressed a little tighter against your neck. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” You moaned, your voice cracking as you did so. “Fuck, yes,” Tom said as you milked his cock. “‘M gonna cum. Oh fuck.” With a few more thrusts, Tom spilled into the condom, his hips stuttering as he finished. He pulled out of you as you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. You laid in bed, your eyes closed, as Tom fell beside you. He took off the condom and tied it off before throwing it in the trash beside your bed. You were both breathing heavily, and neither of you knew what to say or who should speak first.

“Wow,” you finally said.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.” You turned your head to look at him, and he did the same. Tom licked his lips and darted his eyes between yours. “So, what, um-” He hesitated. “What do we do now?” You swallowed thickly and stared up at the ceiling again. This was it. This was when you had to lie and say it was just sex, because you were sure that was what he would want.

Tom seemed to read your mind. “Maybe this isn’t the right time to say this,” he said, “but I really like you, (Y/N).” You looked at him again and saw how small and nervous his smile was. “You’re my best friend, but, but I’ve felt more than best friend feelings for you for a long time now.” You turned on your side and faced him.

“Really?” you asked, reaching over to stroke his cheek with the back of your hand.

He chuckled and mirrored your position. “Yeah, love. Really.” You smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, you were still smiling.

“I feel the same,” you said. He smiled and turned you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you again. He peppered kisses all over your face until you were a giggling mess under him. “You’re so weird,” you said. “How can you go from choking me to this in a matter of minutes?” Tom’s expression shifted a bit, and he brushed his fingers lightly across your neck.

“That was okay?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “More than okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him close to you again. “Just so you’re prepared, my sex drive after shark week is always crazy high. And choking-” You brushed your lips across his. “-that’s just the beginning of what I’m into.”

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

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[ochabestgirl]

I have so many good ideas and prompts for fanfiction, and I HAVE tried my had at writing, but it never turns out how I’m wanting it to. I would love for an experienced fanfic writer who loves kachako, to maybe feel inspired to write a specific prompt that has been in my head for years.

So the story starts out with an established Katsuki and Ochako relationship.

Ochako hasn’t been feeling her best, with fatigue and weakness, wt loss, easily getting winded which has been putting a dent in her hero training. Ochako has never wanted to be a burden on anyone, so she keeps how she’s been feeling to herself, brushing off any concerns from her friends and teachers, saying she’s just been overworking herself as an excuse.

Things then take a turn for the worst when she passes out after giving blood at the yearly blood drive that pops up at UA every November. Nobody really thinks anything of it, since it is a normal reaction to donating blood. She wakes up in recovery girls office 4 hours later with a passed out Katsuki in the chair next to her bed. He wakes up and is worried but she eases his worries and sends him back to his dorm room after recovery girl comes in to check up on her. Once their alone, she informs her that after running a few tests on some of the blood she had donated, they discovered that her labs showed an increased in the number of leukocytes which point to one think, leukemia.

Recovery girl wants her to run more tests and have a bone marrow biopsy to confirm and come up with a treatment plan but Ochako is in denial. She can’t possibly accept the fact that all her hard work the last two years at UA could all be for nothing, so she goes harder than ever and does her best to hide it from everyone, including Katsuki.

After getting pared up with Kirishema for a class hero project, Ochako starts having worse symptoms, like bleeding gums and nose bleeds. Recovery girl says that this is a sign of worsening leukemia so she gives her an ultimatum, she either go’s to get her biopsy done or she was going to tell Her teachers, HIPAA be damned.

Reluctantly she agrees, but on the days following, Kirishema notices that she’s been slacking and feels frustrated to be the only one doing the work. On the day of her biopsy, she dips out of training early. Kirishema, having had enough, confronts her saying it wasn’t fair to him if she wasn’t going to take their assignment seriously. Ochako ends up having a compleat meltdown saying, “ you wanna know what’s not fair, I have cancer!” Kirishema in shock tries to respond but she cuts him off “ I’m going to my first bone biopsy today, that’s why I had to leave early, I’m going through this alone, but I’m sorry if all of this is an inconvenience to you!” Tears rolling down her face she turns on her heals and walks away, leaving Kirishema standing there speechless.

After a few moment he takes off to recovery girl desperately looking for answers, now extremely worried about his friend. He grills her for answers. Recovery girl, not able to give him much information, tells him what she can. That Ochako isn’t wanting to tell anyone or be compliant, and where her biopsy is taking place.

Ochako is on the table and they are about to start but before they even take out the needle a nurse walks in and whispers something to the dr. He nods his head and the nurse leaves. She doesn’t thank anything about it, until the door opens and Kirishema walks in. She is confused. “I couldn’t let you go through this alone.” He says shrugging his shoulders with a wary look on his face and tears in his eyes.

He sits by her side holding her hand and brushing his fingers through her hair as she gasps and cries in pain. Tears both running down their faces.

* I don’t have much in between this part and the next. Mostly just Katsuki  worrying to death, seeing the bruising on Ochako body and the amount of weight she has lost, not to mention her lethargic behavior, and Kirishema wanting to tell him what’s been going on but not being able to because it wasn’t his place. Ochako swearing him to secrecy, wanting to be the one to tell him but not feeling ready, so she keep putting it off.*

Kirishema has enough when Ochako passes out during breakfast, right in the middle of eating. Katsuki beside himself with anxiety and worry, urging her to take it easy. Ochako looks at Kirishema, noticing the terrified look on his face and excuses herself to go to her dorm room, but not without giving her boyfriend a calming kiss saying she was going to take a nap. Katsuki watch’s her disappear through the elevator doors, with a hopeless look on his face. Kirishema has made up his mind and sneaks off after breakfast to confront Ochako.

They end up getting into an argument and Kirishema says that she has to the end of the week to tell Katsuki or he was going to and storms out of her room, leaving Ochako sitting on her bed staring off into space completely spent with the day already.

Katsuki comes up after cleaning up the dining area to find Ochako passed out rather uncomfortable looking on her bed. He adjusts her to where her head is on her pillow and draws the covers up over her shoulders. She is shivering so he looks for another blanket in her dresser drawers only to find a large plastic bag full of an assortment of colorful pills. (Ochako put them in a plastic bag so she could hide them better.)

Completely shook, thinking that Ochako has a drug problem, he takes the pills and leaves, and in typical Katsuki fashion with no warning or tact, confronts Ochako in the common room after dinner in front of all his classmates. Completely consumed with worry, frustration, anger, concern and sadness, he doesn’t even think that he probably shouldn’t have approached it the way he did, but he was too desperate to care.

He throws the bag of pills out on the coffee table in front of Ochako. “Care to explain why I found a bag of pills in your dresser?” He asks with so much tension he is shaking a little bit. “I should have noticed sooner, it makes so much since now.” He says to no one in particular.

“Katsuki it’s not what you think, let me explain, I….”

“Don’t even fucking lie Ochako, you’ve been lying to me for weeks, I’m sick of it damnit!” He is shaking uncontrollably now. “I’m telling Aizawa, and we’re getting you into the first rehabilitation facility we can find that has an opening!” He’s so unhinged that he doesn’t even notice the stunned looks of concern on his classmates faces.

“Ochako, is it true?” Mina asked with both hands cradled to her chest. “ If it is, we all love you and want to help you.”

At this point Ochako is slumped over with her face in her hands, trying to make herself as small as possible.

She had been sitting between Deku and Iida, who are now rubbing her back with worried looks on their faces. “Ochako we will get you help, everything will be okay.” Deku says with tears in his eyes and voice thick with emotion.

Ochako springs off the couch so fast it startles everyone. She’s pacing around the room, and the color looks to be drained out of her face. She’s breathing heavy with tears in her eyes, borderline panic attack mode. Katsuki’s face softens and he approaches her, arms lifting like he was going to try to calm her down.

Kirishema then decides to speak up “ Chako, I think now is the right time to tell him.”

Katsukis head snaps up and his eye meet the ones of his best friend. “What the hell are you talking about, you knew what was going on this whole fucking time, and kept it from me?!”

“It wasn’t my place to say anything bro.” Kirishema responded with regret.

Small explosions leave katsukis palms as he leaps over the couch grabbing onto Kirishema’s shirt getting a few punches in before Deku and Sero pull them apart. Katsukis is still thrashing trying to get out of Dekus grip.

“I have leukemia!” Ochako screams loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. She then falls to the ground curling into herself sobbing.

Everyone and everything just stops and everyone freezes, Kirishema is laying on the floor rubbing his face while katsukis just stands there, with a blank look on his face directed at Ochako.

“Leuko-what now??” Kaminari asks from his place beside Kirishema.

“But that’s” Deku starts “ That’s cancer right?”

A strangled gasp is heard from Tsyu, who is trying not to cry.

“How can this be? Your so young, you have your whole life ahead of you.” Iida says like he hasn’t processed the information yet.

This comment causes katsuki to spring to life, “ w-why the fuck are you still here then, we need to get you to a hospital! Som-someone go get recovery girl! Why are you all looking at me like I’m crazy! She needs to go to a fucking hospital!” He’s not pausing for breath and in a half second, he is crouching down next to Ochako, ready to pick her up and bolt to the closets hospital himself. “ W-whatever, I’m going to get Aizawa myself!”

“You can’t!” Ochako desperately clings to katsukis arm, both trying to ground herself and to stop him from leaving. “You cant tell anyone! N-none of you all can tell anyone.” She looks like a cornered animal.

Katsuki looks at her like she has grown a second head. “what the hell are you talking about?! Do you even get how serious this is?! You could fucking die Ochako!” He’s panicking now “ That is not a risk I am willing to take!”

Anger boiling up inside her she yanks her hands away and stands up, causing katsuki to fall over.

“This isn’t your decision ‘Bakugou!’” She seethes. “I have worked so hard and I have come so far! I can’t give all that up! I won’t!” She is standing so still, fist clenched and shaking slightly.

“Chako, you have to-“ Kirishema is silenced by Ochakos loud “No!”

“I don’t Have to do anything! This is my decision!” Ochako starts backing away, eyes darting around the room, obviously looking for an escape. “It’s my decision…” she whispers once more before she bolts to the door leading to the outside, having jumped over the couch in the process. By the time anyone had realized what had happened, she had already disappeared through the doors vanishing into the night.

The class explodes into a frenzy.

“What is going on down here.” Came the calm voice of their teacher from the elevator doors.

“Mr Aizawa…” Kirishema takes it upon himself to explain everything that had happened, all the while katsuki curls more and more into himself. He is still on the floor, head between his legs and hands in his hair.

Deku is close by, trying to talk to him but it is lost on def ears, he can barely make out the panic in his voice.

Trying to get control over his breathing he starts in though is nose and out through his mouth. He is filled with so many emotions he doesn’t know which one to focus on. Angry tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

He is aware of Kirishema’s face replacing Deku’s, and the ringing in his ears has stopped enough to hear him say that Aizawa, Mina, and , Tsyu have went after her.

He doesn’t remember when or how he winds up on the couch, and he doesn’t even care. He feels hands push him down so he is laying down with his feet propped up, and a cold washcloth is placed on his head.

By the time he starts to breath normally, he’s not sure how much time has passed. When he opens his eyes, he sees that some people were still lingering. Kirishema was sitting in a chair next to him with his head in his hands. Deku, Iida, and Todoroki were hovering by the door, looking for any sign of their return. Sero and kaminari sat on the love seat across from katsuki with sad, forlorn expressions on their faces.

When he slowly sits up, Kirishema lifts his head. Looking him dead in the eyes, katsuki asked, “Did all of that really happened? Is this really happening?” Katsuki hates how his voice cracks.

“ I’m afraid so.” Kirishema says gaze lowering to the floor. “ listen man, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t my place.”

“ I understand why you didn’t. It’s okay.” Kirishema looked like he wanted to say something to that but suddenly the door opened.

Katsuki shoots up from his seat on the couch and faces the door.

Tucked underneath Mr. Aizawa’s arm was a rather small looking Ochako. Face puffy from crying, and bags under her eyes from exhaustion, she looked like the walking dead. Beside her with her arm locked with hers was Mina, face also a little read and puffy, Tysu bringing in the rear holding Ochakos shoes, despair written all over her face.

Ochako refused to look at anyone, even the remaining members of the so called “Deku squad.”

Katsuki makes a move to meet them at the door but one look from Mina makes him stop in his tracks. She shakes her head and mouths ‘not now,’ so not knowing what else to do he just stands there and dumbly watches them make their way to the elevator.

Katsuki tries to sleep that night, but can’t, his mind too full with visions of Ochako dying. Giving up he goes to his desk and opens up his laptop. He spends the next 3 hours researching leukemia, the survival rate, symptoms, causes, treatments, reactions to the medication, by the time the third hours came to a close it’s 2 am and katsuki has had enough. Without second guessing himself, he makes his way out the door, down the hall to Ochakos room and knocks.

It takes a few minutes before the door opens revealing a wide awake but an extremely exhausting looking girl he calls his girlfriend.

Her face contorts in pain and her eyes well up with tears when she sees him. “I’m so sorry katsuki” she sobs.

Without saying anything katsuki grabs her face with both of his hands and kisses her with the power of every emotion he had felt and is still feeling. Pushing her back into her room, he kicks the door shut. She’s on him in seconds, tears still leaking from her eyes as he kisses them away.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much cheeks.” It’s comes out as a choked whisper, like a plea for her to live. He’s got a lump in his throat but he pushes it down. She doesn’t need him breaking down too.

Ochako steps back for only a second to remove her shirt, then she leaps and wraps her legs around katsukis waist, opening up a whole other can of worms.

Not having any control at this point, he pushes her against the door, devouring her mouth like it was his only lifeline. “ I love you too! So much, I’m so sorry.” He silences her words with a Searing kiss. He moves them over to the bed and gently places her down. then settles himself on top of her. “Are you okay? I’m not hurting you am I?” He’s so afraid now.

“You could never hurt me.” She says with such certainty.

That night they gave themselves to each other in every way they could think of.

Him needing to feel her, to know that she was still alive and whole in his arms.

Her needing to feel alive and needing reassurance that she wasn’t alone in this, needing to feel close to the one she loves.

*So that is all I have so far. I do have some thoughts about her treatment and how katsuki struggles with watching her suffer. I would like the story to include weather or not Ochako makes it. But I’ll leave that up to whoever wants to take this story on. Also feel free to write smut if you want. I’m just not good at that, so I didn’t include it.

Please let me know what you all think and if you can make this fic come to life.

Disclaimer: Art is not mine! I got it off of google search. All credit goes to the artists.

#bakugou katsuki #izuku mydoria #kachako #katsuki x ochako #ochako uraraka #my hero academia #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #kirimina #my hero fanfic #sad fanfiction #leukemia #my hero academy fanfiction #kachaan #deku x ochako #friendship #kirichako #brotp inspo

[criminalrambling]

Handy

Pairing: Spencer Reid /gn!reader

Fluffy with some sexual innuendo

__________________________________________

Spencer had been dreading this task for weeks. His old apartment building, while cozy and charming, had come with small closets. and he knew at some point it would need some new shelves and such… He’d been procrastinating on it, making excuses like his busy work schedule for the reason it had never gotten done. Really, how many PhD’s did it take to be able to use a drill, level and hammer?

Apparently none. Spencer had 3, and he couldn’t use any of the tools he needed to assemble the closet. He’d been talking about this issue with his colleague and close friend Y/N, and to his surprise they’d offer to come over to help over the weekend. He wasn’t sure how much better they’d be at it than himself, but he didn’t see any harm in letting them try to help. Worst case scenario, they would call Derek when they inevitably failed. Plus, Spencer harbored a crush on Y/N and was always eager to see them whenever he got the chance. Even if the task at hand would be unpleasant, he knew it would be better with Y/N there.

He was reading through the instructions for the closet system when he heard a knock at the door and hopped up to let Y/N in. His eyes widened as he took in their casual weekend look… they looked absolutely adorable. They carried a small tool box with them (something Spencer didn’t have at his own home), and a bright grin spread across their face as Spencer welcomed them inside.

“Okay, Spencer… Where are we starting?” they asked.

“I have the Elfa system for my bedroom closet. I’ve been reading the instructions this morning and it seems fairly simple if you have the right tools.”

Y/N took the instructions and gave them a quick skim, pulling out all of the tools that would be needed. They seemed to know exactly where to start, grabbing a measuring tape to ensure that the closet pieces would fit in as planned. Spencer helped them measure and mark where the metal bar would need to be attached, and then held it steady while Y/N ensured it was level and marked with a pencil where the drilled holes would need to be.

“Ok, so first we’ll drill the holes. I already checked and made sure we’re not going to hit any studs that will make that hard. Then we’ll hammer in this anchor, and then attach the metal bar to the wall using these screws.” Y/N walked through, showing Spencer the different tools. All of this made sense to Spencer, in a bookish ‘I’ve read this before’ kind of way, but he was impressed by Y/N’s ability to actually do all of it.

They hopped up on the step stool, evenly drilled the required number of holes in the wall and used their hand to brush away the dust that was left behind before setting the drill down on the step stool between their feet. As they bent over, Spencer tried not to gawk at how good their backside looked in their faded denim overalls. No, he definitely wasn’t interested in grabbing a handful of their ass once they got down from the step stool and pulling them close to him. His daydream was interrupted when Y/N started talking again.

“Awesome. Spence, can you hand me the hammer and one of the anchors? They’re the little plastic things in that small bag.” They asked, looking over their shoulder and extending a hand. Spencer’s fingers tingled as he dropped the plastic and metal pieces into Y/N’s hand, and he felt a jolt of desire as their fingers briefly intertwined while he handed over the hammer. He wondered if Y/N was feeling any of this attraction, or if it was all one-sided.

They took the anchors and deftly hammered them into place, and then asked Spencer to help hold the metal bar in place. He licked his lips anxiously, both because his body was now much closer to Y/N’s and in the hopes he was doing the task correctly. Y/N’s hand was gentle on top of his as they helped Spencer line up the material to the line they’d marked on the inside closet wall.

“Awesome, yes - right there, Spencer!” they smiled encouragingly at him. Spencer tried not to think about them saying that same sentence in a different context…. One with significantly less clothes involved. He held the bar in place while Y/N used the drill to secure the screws in place. Spencer wished he could think of a joke about screwing that would make Y/N laugh… but he was never that good at jokes and also couldn’t think about Y/N and screwing in the same moment without feeling overwhelmingly hot and bothered. Gazing up at the dusty, white ceiling only partially kept him from fantasizing.

Once Y/N was done, they double checked that everything was still level (it was), and got down to the more detailed assembly of shelves and drawers. While they sat on his floor and assembled the pieces, Y/N asked Spencer questions about himself, the books he was reading, and his favorite Doctor Who episode. He could tell they were trying to make him comfortable, but he was genuinely enjoying the conversation. He tried to reciprocate, asking them about their interests outside of work and being surprised to learn they’d recently picked up crochet. He wondered if they would be interested in continuing the conversation over dinner or a drink… but before he could gather the nerve to ask, it was back to the tedium of closet assembly.

Y/N helped him space out the vertical bars according to the specifications the Container Store staff had provided him and started sliding everything into place. Occasionally a piece would slip and a quiet swear would leave Y/N’s lips, their brow furrowed in concentration. It was extremely cute and endearing… while Spencer was excited by the progress on his new closet, he was also starting to figure out how the day would end in him asking Y/N out. After this day together, he felt absolutely certain that he wanted to be the one to please and delight Y/N. He wanted to be the reason for the little grins, the exclamations of joy… someday, maybe even moans of pleasure? He shook away the fantasy as he slid the last drawer into place.

Y/N dusted off their hands and grinned at him. “There we go! See, not that hard… I feel like you really got the hang of it there towards the end. Ok, now stand in front of it and look cool. I want to text Derek a picture of our handiwork.”

He stood in front of the closet and let Y/N pose him as she wished, soaking in the feeling of their hands on his shoulders as they turned him at a different angle. Chills cascaded down his back as their touch subsided. Did they know they made him feel this way? Y/N was smart, inviting, capable, damn good looking… and had spent most of the afternoon with him, tackling a project that most would despise. He didn’t know why he’d waited so long to ask them out.

Y/N snapped the photo, then showed it to him to make sure it was ok to send. He nodded, and after the message was sent they started cleaning up.

“Seriously Y/N this was amazing! I really appreciate you coming over to help. It was actually really fun.” He felt himself blushing and swallowed nervously before asking, “Maybe I could take you out to dinner sometime, as a thank you?”

They dropped the drill bits they were holding in surprise before looking back at him. Y/N blushed and grinned. “Absolutely. I’d love that.”

“Ok, great. How’s tomorrow?” He beamed as Y/N nodded in agreement. “Ok, great. Tomorrow! Thank you so much again for helping me, not that you need to always help me with this stuff, it was just really nice and…”

Y/N cut him off with a finger on his lips that felt like a branding iron. “Spencer, you are so sweet. I’ll be your handy helper any time you need something screwed… call me about dinner tomorrow, I can’t wait!” They kissed his cheek, collected their toolbox and left, Spencer standing there, stunned.

He couldn't wait for their date.

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal rambling