#(thinking about them today...i miss them!!!)

[peppermintquartz]

Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"

On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.

Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.

He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.

Tommy.

Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.

Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving

As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.

Tommy: don't know why I texted that

Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you

Tommy: you don't have to reply

Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays

Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.

Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too

Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3

Tommy: you're working today?

Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard

They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.

Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything

Buck: it's better to keep busy

Tommy: I know that feeling

Tommy: I'm sorry

Buck: I'm sorry too

Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together

Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you

Tommy: I would have said that too

Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you

Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?

Buck: I don't think you know me well enough

Tommy: sorry

Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.

He takes a deep breath. Then he types.

Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?

Tommy: is that a good idea

Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.

Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.

Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.

It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.

He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.

Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift

Tommy: are you off on Monday

The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.

Buck: yes

Buck: your place this time

Buck: I'll bring cake

Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door

Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet

Buck: I'm really thankful you texted

Tommy: I'm thankful you replied

Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan

It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.

[scentedluminarysoul]

Not just birds, everything around you. I've just been thinking about this today because in the supermarket, the employee at the information desk put away two rather mangled looking yellow spikes and after a moment and recognized them as coming from the big stars that were hung outside the store, close to the ceilig

It's exceptionally windy currently and the stars must've hit the ceiling. So when I left the store and stopped for a moment and looked at them and sure enough, they were swinging wildly and looked beat up, missing a few spikes. It was just kinda funny and interesting

Someone walked past me into the store and looked up quickly to see what I was looking at but didn't stop or thought more about it and I just thought it was such a shame that people are so busy and don't take the time for whimsy

So often when I left a store there was a rainbow, sometimes even a double rainbow, and I just stayed at my car to look at it for a moment. And no one else ever does. It's so sad

And the birds! There are so many birds! How can you not watch little sparrows or mischievous crows or cooing pigeons??

Every fast food restaurant's outside searing area is inhabited by sparrows, some are so bold as to come and steal your fries right from your tablet. It's so cute! And barely anyone ever pays attention to them

Where is your whimsy? Where is your joy?

I cannot wrap my head around living life without looking at birds. Just watched 3 dudes strolling along and a pigeon was frantically waddling in between them trying and failing to outrun their pace but not wanting to take off. They didn’t even acknowledge it. How could you not acknowledge that. It was incredible. People hear a crow and don’t even look for it. What the fuck.

[minkieater]

when another member walks in on you ateez ot8 x fem!reader

silly little thing i wrote between clients today

smut below the cut! mdni ↓ dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, oral sex, p in v lol, lmk if i missed anything !!

hongjoong ☄️

“shut up slut, they’ll hear you. i bet you want that, don’t you?” he had your face buried in your mattress, drool slipping from your mouth, your ass up in the air where he was relentlessly drilling  into you. 

you moaned, you had stopped caring about your volume long ago, they would hear hongjoong’s thrusts before your moans anyhow. you clenched around him, only making him hiss out and reach over to push your head impossibly farther into the mattress. 

you pissed him off— you got a little too close to wooyoung, talked for a little too long and hongjoong was livid. 

“you want him to hear you, don’t you? want him to hear all the pretty sounds you make? showing off, huh? attention whore,” his words were venom, his lips inches from your ear with how he bent over you, foot planted on the mattress beside your shoulder. 

“are you guys oka— oh shit, i’m so sorry,” hongjoong lets go of your head only for the two of you to snap your faces up to the intruder, hongjoong stilling inside of you.

“what the fuck?” was all hongjoong could get out, a stunned wooyoung in the doorway, his jaw on the floor at the sight in front of him. “wooyoung! get out!” 

“it didn’t sound like you were fucking! i got scared,” you heard wooyoung yell as he closed the door behind him, leaving hongjoong to pick right back up where he left off. 

“don’t think i missed how you clenched around me, whore.”

seonghwa 🫧

seonghwa had you on your knees while he sat on the bed, leaned back on one arm with the other around your ponytail, guiding you up and down his length. 

in a black tank top and gray sweatpants he looked so fucking sexy in the living room, you couldn’t help but pull him into his bedroom for a minute alone — you needed to taste him, show him how much he affected you. 

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” his words were quiet, a low rasp to his voice as he tugged on your hair a little harder. your mouth slipped off of him with a pop, batting your eyelashes up at him with a knowingly coy smile.

he groaned, a little louder this time, his head falling back. “don’t look at me like that or your throat’s getting fucked.” 

you giggled, mouth attaching to him again, bobbing your head up and down a little faster now. he bucked his hips up little by little, using more force with each stroke and you took him proudly, small gags and noises of nasty wetness leaving your lips.

the door opened without either of you noticing, only catching a head of brown hair leaving seonghwa’s bedroom with a shriek of surprise. this wasn’t the first time yeosang had walked in on you, but it still made you laugh every damn time.

you looked up to seonghwa with a giggle on your lips after popping off him again, seonghwa wearing a smile himself.

“how many times do you think we’ll scar him before he stops coming in here?” seonghwa asks, letting go of your ponytail.

“if he was going to catch on, he would’ve by now,” you readjusted yourself on your knees during the pause, shaking your head before bringing your focus back on his delicious length before you. “you said something about fucking my throat right?”

yunho 🧍🏻‍♂️

you and yunho had been waiting for a day alone for weeks. for too long had you been silenced in the hours from one to three, his fingers clamped over your lips or stuffed between them in an attempt to keep you quiet. comeback season was busy, and when there was time off everyone lazed around the dorms and didn’t fucking leave. 

now, on your third consecutive day off, the dorms were empty and yunho took advantage. he had your hands pinned under your back with a belt he had just taken off, hips snapping into you so hard the sound was sure to be heard outside. 

“sloppy little cunt sucking me right the fuck in,” he hissed, hips cracking into your thighs, his fingers keeping you still.

you were wailing at this point, tears streaming down your face, begging for reprieve while also thinking if he stopped you’d die. 

“don’t stop,” you repeated, a mantra on your tongue, from your hips being slanted upward his cock was hitting that spongy spot in your walls that drove you fucking insane. 

you were so close, mere thrusts away from hitting your peak, and the door busted open, an out of breath mingi stood at the door.

“the rest of the guys are walking in right behind me,” mingi’s words were panicked in a warning, but yunho didn’t stop. he ignored his friend, knowing you were so close, wanting your high to crash over you so he could follow. 

you screamed — mingi couldn’t move. yunho fucked you through it, thrusts only quickening to meet his own end, until he doubled on top of you with two large hands landing right beside your head. 

yunho turned to look at mingi, a smirk playing on his lips with heaving breaths, “enjoyed the show?” 

yeosang 👥

everyday yeosang woke you up the same way: his fingers or his head between your thighs until you were creaming around him, then he replaced it with his cock. it wasn’t a good morning until you had at least one, if not two orgasms. 

this morning he was greedy— it seemed he didn’t want to let you go. you came on his face once, his fingers a second time, and he was working you up to a third on his lap. if yeosang could do anything it was last, his stamina was like no other, he could go for hours if you let him. 

you had your knees planted on the mattress beside his hips, his cock hitting your cervix continuously as you grind your hips back and forth against him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. his head was leaning against the headboard, leaving his throat open to you, where you licked and sucked pretty little bruises across the base of his neck, little whines leaving his throat.

“yes, baby, ‘m so close,” he croaked out, his voice raspy and deep, his abs clenching with every grind of your hips. 

“cum for me then yeo, fill me up,” your hand moved from his shoulder to wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling him towards you to connect your chest to his.

your mornings weren’t usually so filthy, never downright nasty, bringing your skin to touch his brought a sense of intimacy back to your morning. 

his head fell onto your shoulder with a groan, filling you up just as you told him to, thighs twitching beneath you. you moaned at the feeling, letting your head rest atop his, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. 

“you guys awake yet?” seonghwa popped into your room, making you twist your body around to look at him, eyes wide.

“definitely awake,” he pulled his lips into a line, bidding you a singular nod before closing the door again. a huff of amusement left your lips as you looked back down to the boy laying on your shoulder, patting his head, giving him a moment to come back before you’d take your morning shower together.

san 🚪

san couldn’t wait. you were at your favorite club, both tipsy and horny, dancing to the beat of the song before san’s fingers dipped below your dress. you looked up to him with wide eyes, met with a filthy smirk and a pair of dimples that ushered you towards the men’s bathroom. 

“san, anyone could walk in,” you were uneasy, san was never so impatient that he needed you then and there. he’d never portrayed signs of exhibitionism before today, your sex life had always been private — you liked it that way, yet the hunger in his eyes and the spark left in the wake of his fingers on your skin made you excited. 

“let them see how good i fuck you then,” he hummed, fingers flipping up your dress, plunging into your core that was so wet he slipped in. the squelch of his fingers was deafening, you thanked god the bathroom was empty. 

he stuffed you into a stall, fingers still curling into you before he slipped your panties to the side, replacing his fingers with his cock. the pace he set was brutal, your hands bracing the wall above the toilet as he fucked into you from behind, hips slapping into your ass. 

you fought to keep your moans inside, pointless as the sound of skin slapping would overpower them anyway. san groaned, “knew you’d be wet, naughty girl. you were basically begging me to fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to see.” 

a whine escaped you, nails clawing against the tile of the wall. he slipped a hand around your hips, coming between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace he knew would have you coming in seconds 

“fuck, san, harder please,” you breathed out, head dipping below your arms, hanging between them. 

he listened, quickening his pace, fucking you somehow harder than he was before. his fingers worked in a quick rhythm, making the pit in your stomach grow until you were overflowing on his dick.

“yeah, that’s it, baby. cum all over my cock,” he was drunk off your pussy, words slurring together, keeping his pace on your clit to ride you through it. 

when you were twitching from overstimulation he emptied himself inside you, head falling to the center of your spine. there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths in the public restroom, you and san catching your breath and your sanity before he flipped your dress back down and zippered himself back up.

when you left the stall, jongho was washing his hands at the sink, barely giving you a glance as you stepped into view. 

“how long have you been in here?” san asked, a pink rising to his cheeks, looking like a completely different person than he had moments ago.

“unfortunately, long enough. broke the seal so i had no choice,” jongho shrugs as he grabs paper towels, drying off his palms. “make sure you two wash your hands.” 

mingi 🫶

the say my name stage always fucked you up, it never failed. being on stage period always fucked mingi up, that never failed either. it was safe to say that your post-show routine was always fucking backstage, it happened every stop, every show, you lost count of how many dressing rooms in foreign countries you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life in.

what was abnormal was mingi not waiting until the show was over. always professional, mingi waited until everyone was no longer sprinting around backstage with mini-fans and makeup brushes to touch up the eight boys before they had to head back out onstage. 

as he came off the stage, his walk was fast paced, precise. it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know what it meant. his fingers hooked around your arm, dragged you further backstage, and had you in a random closet in a stadium completely foreign to you. 

he was quick to split you open, granted say my name was within their first set so you were already dripping by the time he made it between your legs. 

“always so ready for me,” he mumbled out, zeroed in on your center but eyes still not fully clear. in his post performance haze he was always rougher, selfish, not a care in the world for you. it was your favorite. 

“put it in,” you barked out, hips bucking toward him and he was sheathed within seconds. giving you no time to get used to the stretch you wheezed, head lolling onto his shoulder, and he let loose. 

he fucked you stupid, you joined him in whatever haze his brain was under as he pounded into you, hips clapping into the silence of the dark storage room. you heard footsteps outside but mingi made no moves to halt his thrusts, only focused on one thing, getting the two of you off before he had to go back onstage. 

“are you fucking?” yunho’s voice wasn’t clear until he had the door open, light cascading into the storage room, yours and mingi’s necks snapping to look at the intruder.

he was smirking — he knew what he was walking into yet he did it anyway. you and mingi both smiled cheshire grins as yunho stepped inside the storage room, quickly slamming the door shut behind him. 

“why didn’t you invite me?”

wooyoung 🐈‍⬛

wooyoung had you splayed out on the bed, legs bent up with his head between them. eating you out was adjacent to your meditation time, as he calls it, it's his favorite way to wind down. after a long day, after a short day, during his day, it didn’t matter when. wooyoung was always down to eat you out, eager even — he is a man not above begging. 

your chin was shot back, eyes screwed tight, wooyoung had made you cum on his tongue twice so far and he was nowhere near finished. 

after eating you through your second orgasm his licks had slowed down, easing up his pressure, making his tongue soft and pliable instead of hard and pointed. 

soft moans left your lips, he knew by now how to work you through overstimulation, lazily licking at your clit until your moans turned to whines once more.

“taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night,” his eyes were fully closed, he was in a dream. between your legs was his happy place, he’d die there a happy man, he’d admitted it more than once. more than ten times, at least. 

when he noticed your breaths getting shorter and your moans shifting to a higher pitch he was sharp with his movements, picking up his pace, licking up your folds and sucking on your clit with swollen lips. 

hongjoong bounced through the door, “hey wooyo, you- jesus fucking christ!” 

your legs snapped shut, closing over wooyoung’s head and he pried himself out of your cage with painted fingertips, jumping up to face hongjoong at the door.

“what?” wooyoung asked, palm swiping at his chin.

“i’m scarred,” hongjoong muttered, voice horrified with hands covering his eyes. your hands fled for the blankets, pulling them over your body with a speed you weren’t expecting to have to use. 

“what do you want, joong?” wooyoung asked, rushed yet still casual, sitting on his knees. his abdomen was clenched, muscles on display as he twisted backward, you didn’t even care that hongjoong was in the room. 

“i was going to ask if you had a spare pair of headphones,” his voice was barely above a squeak, hands still covering his eyes.

“oh, yeah i do, here, they’re my sony 1000MX—”

“i don’t give a fuck wooyoung, give them to me so i can leave.”

jongho 🧸

you were hanging out with jongho in the dance practice room as he practiced the same routine again, the fifth time tonight.

he groaned in frustration after missing a step again, the same step he’s missed the past four times he’s gone through the routine. his hands cover his face, dragging down his cheeks.

you get up from your spot on the floor, making your way in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold in yours.

“why don’t you stop for the night?” you tilt your head, nothing but warmth in your eyes as you stare into his, cold and irritated. 

“i need to get this fucking right,” his lips are pursed, his eyebrows are knit together as he barks, “i need to clear my head.” 

within minutes he had you on your hands and knees atop the hardwood floor, bodies facing the mirror that spread across the wall, forcing you to watch yourself as he fucked you stupid. 

“see that?” he smirked at you through the mirror, fingers tight on your hips, “nothing but a cocksleeve whenever i want it, so willing for me.” 

his words were cool and calm, almost a threat on his lips as he abused your core. your eyebrows were tangled and your mouth hung open, knees and palms burning from the pressure against the harsh wood. 

“yes, just for you,” you manage to choke out between thrusts, body jolting forward with each thrust. 

“that’s right baby,” he nods, his smile turning villainous, only fucking into you harder as he spits, “such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you in public like this.” 

you nod, eyes screwed shut, “d-don’t fucking stop.” 

his chuckle is deep, his thrusts losing their rhythm, “you want it? want me to fill this filthy pussy up?” 

the door to the practice room opens, san strolls inside with a smile on his face before he sees the two of you — he shrieked. “what the fuck!?” 

jongho stilled, laying himself atop your body, trying to cover you as best he could. his words come out nervous, “get the fuck out!”

san slips back out of the door, then peeks his head back in, “wait, when are you gonna be done? i want to practice.” 

“san!” 

masterlist

[yuvany]

୨୧ LET ME TIE A BOW AROUND IT

// OT7 ENHYPEN when you want to tie a bow on them

─── ( on 𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉) marking them as yours, but not the way most people'd expect !! 𝒇 ! reader ┊ CONTENT: fluff + est relashionship + nicknames + kisses ┊ WORD COUNT : 1181

reblogs + feedback always appreciated !!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 - around his wrist

You were playing with his hands, your fingers gently grazing his knuckles in a way that made him feel at home and at ease. The way you carefully, but also affectionately massaged his hands could lull him to sleep any second if it weren't for you aburptly stopping. "Babe, what's wrong?" He asked, his voice sounding groggy as if he had just woken up from sleep. "Nothing, I was just reminded of something." You murmur as you awkwardly hold his hand in yours. "And what's that, pretty girl?" Heeseung sits up straight as he plays with your fingers. "I'll be right back." You kiss his cheek, leaving a hot spot on his face before running over to your room. You returned not long after with a roll of pink satin strands in your grasp. Heeseung watches as you return to your seat and pull out enough ribbon to wrap around his wrist with a smile.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 - on his clothes

Jay was a big guy on fashion. He always came to you whenever he wanted an opionin on something, and something he walways wanted approval on was his outfits. "Sugar, what do you think of this?" He asked, posing for you as if it were a fashion show. "looks absolutely lovey." You reply. Today though, your comments did not persua him that his outfit did not lack something cruical. "Are you sure? Because it feels really empty, and i don't know what's missing." You shurg your shoulders at this, knowing that you can't do more than what you've already done. While Jay squints at the mirror, you get an idea and rush over to your room as you grab a string of ribbon and run back. "I have an idea." You walk over to him and tie the silky material like a ribbon on his pocket. "This is exactly what I was missing." He gives you a big kiss on the head.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 - on his fingers

His fingers ran up and down your arm as he mindlessly scrolled through the content that was on his phone. You laid beside him, your eyes glue to the screen, but the feeling of his warm fingers against your skin managed to divert your attention. For a moment, all you could think of was how pretty his hands were as your eyes trailed his moving hands. They were comforting but also very attractive. Something about them just fished you in. "What'chu looking at?" Jake asks, his breath hittig your nape. "Nothing." You blurt out quickly. "I know you like my fingers, yeah?" He teases, and you groan. "So what?" "So tie a bow around them. I've seen the videos you repost on tiktok." He says, his fingers tapping your arm. "right." you murmur and crawl out of his arms to grab the satin ribbon you've kept in your room to the point they were on the werge of rotting. "You just managed to make them prettier, honey." He says, admiring the accessories.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 - around his bicep

"You know, you've got great arms, babe." You pointed out to your boyfriend while on a wak home. "thanks, I take great pride in these." He releases your arms around his as he flexes his biceps through his jacket. "Like what you see, hmm?" He coos, and you just roll your eyes with a chuckle before continuing to walk without him. Sunghoon sees the uninterest in you and rushes to catch up with you. "Wait for me!" "Hurry up! I'm freezing!" It's these small banters that make everyday bright, and it was always known that you were joking, so he did not take anything to heart. You and him walked around the craft store when a roll of pink ribbon caught you eye. Sunghoon walked over to you and raised an eyebrow at your findings. "Let me borrow you for a second." You pulled out a string of ribbon and tied it around his bicep. "Let me take a quick picture." "Whatever you say, princess." He hums.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 - in his hair

Sunoo had kindly asked you to massage his scalp as he felt that he had been a hard worker for the past week and deserved a reward. Through feign objections, deep down you did want to play with his hair - if anything, this was one of may things that you always looked forward to. You sat yourself down on the couch and let Sunoo lay his head on your lap. Your fingers slowly crawling up his head while the TV caught your attention. The muted lights and comfort of you thighs, must've soothed him to sleep. You heard the soft snores and looked down at him to confirm that he was indeed asleep. Recently, you were wrapping presents and the red ribbons were just an arm away. You slowly grabbed it, making sure not to wake him up. It was a challenge, but at least you were finally done. You only hoped they wouldn't slide off when he wakes up.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 - around his waist

Christmas was soon, and Jungwon would annually ask what you wanted for this holiday. At the moment, you were sprawled on the cool floor of the livingroom. You see your boyfriend, Jungwon, slowly peek his head in you field of vision. "have you thought of something for christmas yet?" He asked, sitting down next to you as you rise from your laying position. "Not really, have you?" you asked and he shook his head. "i wouldn't want you to buy me something, having you by my side is more than I could ask for." Jungwon smiled as he pressed a light kiss to your ear. "then I can say the same for you, no? I just enjoy having you here." You attempt to lean agaisnt his shoulder, but it seeems like he's already run off to somewhere. Later, he comes back, asking, "can you help me tie this?" He points to his waist. "Why, babe?" You asked. "So that I can be your christmas present."

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 - around his neck

It's been a long day of practice for Riki at the dance studio. He comes home all sweaty and aching all over his body. You see this and hurry over by his side. You offer your shoulder for him to lean on but he jokes that you'd be crushed, in which you scold him for saying such nonsense while being in his state. "Go take a shower, you stink, bby." You say, pinching your nose bridge. Riki rolls his eyes, but does as you command. A few minutes pass and the sound of the shower continues to echo through the house, and you start to believe that he might have falled asleep, until he steps out with his hair wet. "Damn, my neck hurts." He complains. "You want me to tie a bow?" You tease, but he replies with a nod and you take him seriously. Now, he is sitting with a scawing tie around his neck.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

[mossyscavern]

Not spies, just a bit incompetent

Part 2

_________________________

“… what?”

Bee squeaked, breaking the silence before tapping soundwave’s shoulder pad to whisper in his audible. “What is starscream talking about?” He asked, the blue bot turned and whispered back. “Conclusion: We believed you’ve possibly been captured.”

Soundwave answered, as starscream gave his speech to both the high guard and prisoners.

“… no, i wasn’t captured, they found me. I lived in sub-level 50 back at Iacon.” He told the mech, shrugging his shoulder pads before kicking his peds back and forth.

“Question: who had ‘found’ you?” Soundwave asked and bee pointed to both the blue helmed mech with the red chassis and the silver mech. “They did before we found the map and got our T-cog’s from alpha trion.”

… this concerned Soundwave to the point he scanned bee’s electrical impulses. Every word he said is true.. even the T-cog part is true. “Primus what had sentinel done to you?” Shockwave chimed in, just as concerned as Soundwave.

All before starscream had yelled. “Hey! What are you doing?!” Starscream yelled. ‘Aww, we missed the whole speech.’ Bee thought, pouting.

Then it changed to concern, seeing that D-16 is the one that stood up. “Doing what you’re not.” He first says, turning to the winged mech.

“I’m going out there to make an actual difference. I found out that Sentinel is rotten and I’m going to make him pay, today!” D-16 yelled, fury on his faceplate. “You think you can just insult me and walk away?”

Starscream questions, walking up close to the silver mech. “Nobody leaves unless I say so.” He threatens, invading his space. “Is that so?” D laughs mirthlessly, licking his denta.

“Well how can you say that? With my head in your teeth.”

He says, rearing back and knock his helm full force into Starscream’s. The winged mech stumbles, caught off guard as sparks fly. “Dee!” He hears Orion scream, but doesn’t pay much mind to it, he has optics on his opponent.

Starscream was about to fly kick right at D-16’s head, but the mech caught it, resulting a face full of plasma from the heel Strut.

It was all happening too fast for bee, that and the amount of times soundwave tries to shield bee from the violence, but bee has to see if D is alright. From the looks of it he was about to lose..

Everything became quiet when bee finally struggles out of soundwave’s arms, looks up and saw that D has the upper hand, and he looks… terrifying, scary even, with that huge canon pressed against starscream’s face on his forearm…

“Dee!” Bee shouts, desperate. D-16 stopped, his features softened and he looked up, blue meeting orange.. were they orange?

Immediately he let starscream go, went and knelt down, arms stretched out to bee. Shockwave stepped forward before being stopped by Soundwave, letting the young spark approach and the silver mech hug. “You ok bee?” He asks.

“Uh huh, but… that was really scary.” Bee mumbled, burying his helm in D’s chassis. “it’s okay.. it’s okay.” He says, hugging bee tight to ground both of them.. but mostly himself, he needed this.. both of them needed this.

Before anything, he asks bee to go back to Orion and elita and cover his audibles. Once he does the tasks he shouts to the high guard, loud and clear.

“Bear witness! This is the only time I show mercy to those who play king of thrones! Decide now: You can stay here in hiding, bowing before your pathetic leader, or follow me as we march to Iacon and take down sentinel! Once and for all!”

The high guard cheered, chanting his name loudly. Orion stares back at his friend, the voices and chanting fades in quiet as he stares more.

He turned back to bee audibles still covered like how d-16 instructed.

Orion felt like he was about to loose D… but bee had kept him grounded.. sparkling’s keep them grounded.. it’s a reason to fight for.

The distant chanting didn’t last very long as there was a sudden explosion and laserfire. “Bee hold on!” Orion yells, transforms into vehicle form to get bee to safety.

They can make it! They have to make it…

_________________________

Ok, part 2 is done. It’s a bit sloppy but, eh.. I just wanted it to be finished.

So yeah.. part 2 is done! Forever. And for those who hadn’t seen part 1 yet, don’t worry I’ll just direct you to it.

(Prev) <- it’s here, right there… I hope you all enjoy. If uh… you want to hear the aftermath? Go here -> (aftermath) @yuukirita drew/wrote it best… I’m sorry.

[subcultureblues]

Don't You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 4

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4

———

“I don’t know Dustybuns…. I know you mean well but - “

“But? I mean well, but what?”

“But sometimes, well sometimes you get these ideas in your head. And really once you think you’re right, there’s just no convincing you otherwise. I just wonder if maybe - you don’t have a full picture of what’s going on with those two.”

“Seriously? They’re my friends, Suzie. I think I understand them just fine. I mean it’s not thermal dynamics. And even that, I’ve got an understanding of the basic fundamentals!”

———

When Dustin got home that night he blew through his homework within the hour. He’s a sophomore - advanced placements even! Still, the work they’re giving out this year is child’s play.

He grazed on snacks until he was slightly less bored. Read the X-Men issue that came out this week - guess Jean Grey alive again. Wonder how long that’ll last…

He tried calling the Wheeler house to see what Mike was up to but he was out, over at Will’s apparently. He tried Lucas after that but he couldn’t really talk since he’d had to put Max on hold just to pick up.

Dustin had to kill a few more hours but eventually he was able to get on the radio with Suzie. Hearing her voice - it’s like seeing the clouds part and the sun light up the sky. Never really gets old.

“That! That tramp!” She said, when Dustin told her about the Flower Situation.

“Right!?” Dustin huffed.

He told Suzie he planned to give Steve a serious talking to, even though Robin had kinda, sorta expressly asked against it. To Dustin’s shock, however, Suzie took Robin’s side.

“I don’t know Dustybuns…. I know you mean well but - “

“But? I mean well, but what?”

“But sometimes, well sometimes you get these ideas in your head. And really once you think you’re right, there’s just no convincing you otherwise. I just wonder if maybe - you don’t have a full picture of what’s going on with those two.”

“Seriously? They’re my friends, Suzie. I think I understand them just fine. I mean it’s not thermal dynamics. And even that, I’ve got an understanding of the basic fundamentals!”

“Oh, Dusty…. Oop. I hear footsteps downstairs.” She whispered. “I think they’re doing a bed check. I gotta go.”

“Bye Suzie. I love you.”

“Love you too.” He could hear her smiling through the crackling radio transmission. Even from this many miles away he couldn’t help but smile back. Suzie paused. “And Dusty, just - be careful. Promise?”

Her line cut out. Dustin switched off the ham radio and frowned. Usually Suzie was so smart. Literally the smartest person he knows. How is it possible she couldn’t see that his friends were in dire need of help?

No way was he gonna abandon them to make a mess of things by themselves.

Though. Maybe there was something he was missing. Some unknown element.

Earlier today… Eddie seemed to know more than he was letting on. Dustin frowned harder.

He creeped downstairs to the landline. Wayne’s at work and Eddie’s a nightwalker so he didn’t feel bad about calling at almost 9pm. He didn’t even feel bad about calling four separate times.

He shook his head when he was sent to voicemail again. He put the phone back in the receiver.

Dustin huffed.

Only then he remembered - the walkie talkie. It had ended up in Eddie’s trailer after the whole Vecna fiasco… Dustin never did get it back. In fact, he’d totally forgotten about it. And if Dustin forgot about it, Eddie definitely had too.

“Eddie. It’s Dustin. Come in, Eddie. Over.”

It took a few tries but eventually he heard a crackly - “sus Christ, how does this thing work, again?”

“Eddie!”

“Dustin?” Eddie said, deadly serious. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you home right now, over?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Dustin waited.

“Yes, I’m home. Over.”

“Then why the hell aren’t you picking up the damn phone?” Dustin said. “Over.”

“I uh - must be off the line or something.”

“Whatever, look I just got a few questions about - “

“Dustin! Is the world ending right now this exact second or what?”

“No but - “

“Jesus…”. Eddie sighed in relief. Then he muttered, “The last thing I need right now is The Monster-pocalypse Part 2 : Electric Boogaloo.”

“We are well past that by now. Gotta be on the fourth or fifth straight to TV sequel at least.”

“Well whatever it is, it can wait. I gotta a lot of - I got enough shit going on right now.”

“You know, you’ve been pulling that card a lot recently.”

“Tell me about it.” To Eddie’s credit, he did sound stressed out. “Anyway - if this is about D&D, sessions canceled tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?” Immediately switching course, Dustin’s thoughts of Steve vanished like smoke.

“Yeah, sorry. Jeff was gonna tell you guys tomorrow at school. There’s this bar in town, their Friday gig canceled on them. Unlucky for them, our merry band of metalheads were the only ones they could find to fill the time slot on short notice.”

“What? Eddie that’s awesome!”

“Yeah, fucking big place too. Me and the boys are there a lot when we’re in the area - The Squeaky Wheel down in Indie. Probably gonna be the biggest crowd we’ve ever played for.”

“Well, I’m definitely coming then.”

“You’re definitely not. We need to be there early. Leaving for town 2pm, sharp.”

“Jeff won’t still be in school?”

“Not if he cuts last period he won’t.”

“Well, what if I - “

“Are you kidding?” Steve’ll fucking kill me.”

“But I still haven’t seen you guys perform for real yet!”

“Maybe next time, little man. Look I gotta go, I’ve been trying to actually get some fucking sleep and having the phone going off all night really isn’t helping.”

“I thought you said it was off the line?”

“Huh? Right, yeah.”

“Nevermind that. You nervous?”

“So fucking nervous I feel like I’m gonna puke or something. Just like, go full exorcist. All over the stage.”

“Ok yeah, don’t do that.” Dustin suggested.

“Hah. Yeah.” Eddie chuckled.

“Come on, you guys are amazing! You’re gonna be great!”

“No, you’re right. It’s gonna be good.” Eddie said, clearly trying to psyche himself up.

“Well, I guess good luck. Over and out.”

“Break a leg you mean. Over and out.”

Dustin sat there fiddling with his walkie for a long couple minutes. There was something kicking around in his brain. A plan, formulating. Even Dustin himself was shocked by its elegant efficiency.

Get to see Corroded Coffin perform? Check. Bring a mob of Eddie’s friends out to support him? Check. Finally get a chance to meet this super secret girlfriend (because who would miss their boyfriend’s bands biggest show yet?) Check! And he can get Robin and Steve on a fun night out together and hopefully smooth over the ‘flower incident’? Check check check!

He tuned his walkie to the open line the party was synced into.

“Everybody, come in. It’s Dustin. We got a code blue which means all hands on deck. We’re going on a field trip…”

Dustin had spent the rest of Thursday night and Friday morning making sure everything was in perfect order.

He didn’t call until Friday, after he got confirmation from Max, the last person he was waiting on.

Only then did he call Steve.

“Corroded Coffin has a show tonight.” He said as soon as Steve picked up.

It was lunch hour and him, Mike, and Will were outside the school building standing around the pay phone. Lucas and Max were on a lunch table near by arm wrestling - those weirdo’s version of PDA.

“Hello to you too.” Steve said, vaguely amused.

“Hello. Corroded Coffin has a show tonight and we’re going.” Mike gave him a thumbs up and Will, an encouraging smile.

“Oh yeah?”

“And before you ask, yes we’ve gotten permission from our parents, yes we have a curfew but - we don’t have to be home till midnight, the bar is 16 and up, I called, itsallthewayinindianapolis but wait ok, before you say no - “

“What time are we leaving?” Steve said.

“I - really? That easy?” He glanced at Will and Mike who blinked at him with hesitant excitement.

“No. This… this is actually perfect.”

“Come on man. I had a whole - thing, prepared. I practiced for this. Flashcards! I made flashcards.”

“What time are we leaving?”

Dustin sighed.

“Six o’clock. If we leave Hawkins by then, we can get there twenty minutes before their show starts. Plenty of time to find parking and get into the venue. Were you wondering how everyone’s gonna fit in your car?”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve humored him.

Dustin flipped to the corresponding flash card. “They don’t have to.” He read verbatim. “I’ve already taken the time to ensure Jonathan could accompany us as well - also Joyce wouldn’t let Will come if he didn’t. Jonathan and Nancy are driving Will and Mike. You just have to grab me, Lucas, and Max. Leaving one seat open for you to bring a plus one.”

“Robin.” Steve said, impressed. “Very thorough.”

“I’ll see you at my house at 5:30 on the dot. We need to be on the road by 6. And Steve? Please try not to dress like a dork.”

Steve laughed.

“Funny how I could say the exact same thing.”

“Also don’t tell Eddie.” Dustin ordered. “It’s a surprise.”

“Dustin, you’re a genius...” Dustin could hear him grinning through the phone.

“I know, I meticulously organized everything down to the last detail.”

“Yeah, uh huh.” Steve said, distractedly. “Shit, ok, I gotta go - and shower pretty much right now if I want enough time to airdry my hair…“

“Well. That was easy.” He said, hanging up the phone rather anticlimatically.

“But he said yes?”

“Oh, we’re going!” Dustin confirmed.

———

Just a few hours later Steve’s Beemer sat on the street out front of Dustin’s house.

Dustin emerged from the house at 5:36 in a huff. He got a few steps before he remembered his mom was out and backtracked to lock up behind him.

HONK.

Dustin jumped, almost dropping his keys.

“I’m coming!” Dustin shouted over his shoulder. When he turned Steve was grinning at him, snickering to himself. He peered over his douche-glasses and gave Dustin a goofy little wave.

Dustin rolled his eyes and tugged at the car’s door handle. It didn’t budge. Steve hit the button for the passenger side window and Dustin was forced to wait for it to slowly roll down.

“Taxi to Indianapolis for a Mr. Henderson. Got the right address?”

“Open the door, Steve.”

“Sorry, I’m gonna need you to confirm the passphrase. Company policy.” He shrugged.

“Is it, we’re already running late so open the goddamn door?”

Steve rolled his eyes but unlocked the door so Dustin could finally get in already.

“And whose fault is that?” Steve asked as he started them down the road. Dustin huffed. He was still mad at Steve.

“Yours. You said you’d have Robin already - so now we’re behind schedule.”

“It was please by the way.” Steve glanced his way grinning as he turned on the radio. “Wanted to pick something you’d never in a million years guess.”

“Har har.” Dustin said, humorlessly as he buckled in. He eyed Steve. “You’re in a good mood.”

“I am.” Steve said, checking his hair in his review mirror and flashing himself a grin.

Dustin did a double take when he noticed - Steve was wearing Eddie’s vest. It definitely looked like it had been dragged through the Upside Down. But he had to admit the battle worn look suited it. To Dustin’s surprise, it kind of suited Steve too. He had a white T-shirt underneath, blue jeans, and red converse sneakers. His hair was tall and meticulously coiffed.

Dustin spent quite a while on his own hair tonight, though it wasn’t nearly as expertly styled. Never gonna beat the master at their own game right?

Dustin was glad Steve made an effort to blend at least. The rest of the party had too. Dustin was wearing a black tshirt with ‘Corroded Coffin’ painted in angular white lettering across the front. Dustin had made sure they all brought shirts to school today for Will to paint. He’s glad he put Will in charge of that because they actually came out pretty awesome.

“What’s up man?” Steve asked, taking off his sunglasses when he noticed Dustin’s sour face.

“How’s Robin?” Dustin asked pointedly.

“Uh, she’s fine, thanks.” Dustin glared at him, unimpressed.

“Uh huh.” He said shortly. There was a moment of silence before Steve spoke again.

“So uh, how’s Eddie?”

“Why do you care?” Dustin said.

“I don’t.” Steve shrugged. “Just makin’ conversation.” He said. There was another pause. Steve was drumming along to the radio on the steering wheel. “You guys have been hanging out a lot this week.”

How would Steve even know that?

“What? Did Robin tell you after we came by the store?” Steve looked over at him, as if confused by his antagonist tone.

“Uh, nope. I- “

“She knows about the flowers, Steve.” Dustin said. Steve squinted side long at him, opening his mouth and closing it again.

“Ok?” He said. Waiting for Dustin to continue. Dustin waited until they rolled to a stop at a stop sign.

“What the hell Steve!” Dustin said, smacking him in the arm.

“Hey! You what the hell.” Steve said, holding a palm up to shield himself from further abuse.

“I can’t believe you! I asked her how she liked the flowers you got her and she had no idea what I was talking about!”

“What? Ok, Jesus Christ. Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, we aren’t dating. It’s - it’s not like that, alright. We’re just - Robin’s my best friend.”

“Yeah well have you told her that? She seemed really hurt Steve.” Dustin scolded him.

“Man, I don’t know what you thinks going on but it’s not. I promise.”

“Just, talk to her ok?”

“What, suddenly your the love guru?” Steve huffed.

“Yes!” Dustin cried. “You have a really good thing, Steve. Don’t fuck this up. Have you guys even had an actual conversation about this shit? Like talked about what you guys are in plain words even once.”

Steve sighed, beleaguered. Steve stopped at a red light, fully turning to face Dustin. As if he thought looking him in the eye would better get his point across. Or more likely, finally get Dustin to shut up.

“I’m not having this conversation. You’re a kid, alright. You just don’t get it. You don’t always need to - spell everything out. We’re on the same page, trust me.”

“I don’t know Steve. That sounds like a really easy way for someone to get hurt.”

“I - “ Steve started but then he stopped himself. He paused for a moment, staring into space. The light turned green.

“Steve.” Dustin said, and Steve’s head jerked back up. “The light.”

“Yeah. Right.” He turned onto Lucas’ street.

“So you’ll talk to her?”

“God, is there a reason you have to be so nosey. Me and Robin have nothing to talk about. We are definitely on the same page.”

“Definitely?”

“Definitley.” He assured Dustin. Dustin continued to glare at him.

“Look, I’ll - “ Steve sighed, passing a hand through is hair before quickly checking it’s structural integrity in the mirror. “I’ll think about what you said ok?”

“You better.” Dustin huffed, trying to keep up his stone cold front at least a few seconds longer. “I don’t want to see you fuck this up. You seem, I dunno - happy? Or - whatever.”

Steve hummed, looking out at the road with a contemplative smile.

They stopped at Lucas’ house to grab him and Max, and then headed to Family Video.

“Dude, are you wearing Eddie’s vest?” Lucas said as he and Max climbed into the back seat. Lucas was wearing a matching Corroded Coffin shirt. Max was not. She’s too cool to participate in things.

“You know, just once you could say something like, hey Steve, thanks for the ride. Maybe? Just to keep things interesting.”

“Yeah did you really never give that back?” Max said, ignoring him.

“No, Eddie, he uh, told me to hold onto it.” Steve said, smiling and adjusting the collar in the mirror.

Max scoffed a little laugh, but kept her eyes out the window.

Next they went to pick Robin up from her late shift.

It took a few honks before Robin emerged from the building, calling “Thanks, Todd!” over her shoulder.

She crossed the parking lot, struggling to get into her denim jacket.

“Sorry it took so long Steve, I had to change in the bathroom and let me tell you, that little - “ she managed to crawl into her jacket, then halted when she looked up and saw Dustin in the front.

“You didn’t pick me up first.” She said, standing outside the passenger side door.

Steve shrugged half heartedly apologetic.

“Out of my seat, Gremlin’s 2.” She opened the door and jerked her head in a motion that made it clear she expected Dustin to clear out.

“Yeesh. Not even the original?” He said, reluctantly acquiescing and going to jam in with the others in the back.

Robin got into the car stared at Steve intently.

“You didn’t pick me up first.” She repeated. “I told you to come get me first.”

“I - yeah. The kids were closer. Didn’t want to waste time backtracking in case there’s traffic.”

“Pft. He was just running late.” Dustin said.

“I bet it was because he spent like, 2 hours doing his hair.” Max snorted.

“Alright, that’s enough - from the peanut gallery. Sorry, Robbie.” Robin frownedz. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”

“Why, what’s up?” Steve said, pulling out of the parking lot so they could finally get on the rode. It was already 6:07! The whole night was turning out to be a disaster.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just was hoping to chat.”

“I literally just called you.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Just - Nevermind.” She grimaced.

Dustin caught her eye in the rearview mirror and winked.

Her face paled in a mask of frustration and horror. A look that said, what did you do now, if Dustin’s ever seen one.

“Jesus Christ.” She murmured quietly.

“Hmm?” Steve titled his head towards Robin.

“Nothing!”

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[tiktaalic]

pa said the well's run dry he said the bank came out yesterday and said we're gonna have to sell the blog and get work in the city like the rest of folks less we can come up with something real quick. he was all ready to sign the papers today but i begged him to wait to give me time to find something anything and he sighed and said he could give me a week and not a minute more. and i nodded and i cried because he was right when he said there was next to nothing i could do and even if i did find a miracle. all our neighbors shuffled off weeks months years ago because the posts dried up and the bank came knocking. i break open my piggy bank hoping there's enough drafts in there to tide us over. i sit there. and i have to decide if it's worth spending everything i have just to buy us an extra day. and i know this extra day will consist of walking around mute and shellshocked. and i decide. it's worth it. i give pa all my drafts and he looks at me and shakes his head and his voice cracks when he says i better keep hold of those for getting settled in the city. i could fight him. i don't. i leave all my drafts on the table and storm out the back door. there must be something. they must have just missed it. pa says he knows this blog better than anyone. but i grew up here, same as him. and as much as he loves it, i love it more. when i was seven years old he tore the place apart looking for me after i wandered off. but i wasn't lost. i'd found a tag to play in, happy as could be. he never found me, or the tag, i just wandered back out when i got hungry. it's pa's blog, but it's my home. i know where the creeks and streams and ponds are. i know if i look hard enough, i can find a new posting well.

day one, i strike out. i wake up before dawn. i come in after dusk with no posts to show for it. pa's boxing up our plates when i walk in. he doesn't say anything. i don't either.

day two, i wander a further. yesterday, i was following a map with areas of interest marked in order of likelihood of success. today, i pick a direction and walk. i have more to show for it, if only barely. i get home with one bucket of posts. pa tells me i should keep them.

day three i wake up because pa's dragging furniture into the yard for a yard sale. when i ask him what he's doing he says he'd rather be paid flop drafts by our neighbors than flop drafts by the bank. i walk back inside. get my map. i get home after midnight with empty hands.

day four. when i wasn't looking, the cold single minded determination turned into fear. i'm realizing i'm running out of time. i'm realizing the reason pa didn't put up a fight is because he knew there was nothing out here. i could kill him. what kind of farmer depends on one well? my heart isn't in it today. i head out after noon. i'm back before dusk. there's been a stack of empty boxes sitting outside my room since pa told me the news. i haven't touched them. tonight, i take one and put away some of my things.

day five. there's more ground to cover. it's more out of a sense of completion than anything. so that when we're in the city, i can say, i did everything i could. i looked everywhere. this was the only option. i stop midday for a rest. the ground i put my palms on is curiously softer than the rest. i dig. it comes away easily. it turns into mud. heart thudding in my ears, i keep digging. the mud gives way to a trickle of posts. ears roaring. i keep digging. hands covered in mud. the trickle turns into a stream. i start yelling for pa. i'm too far from the house for him to hear me, but i'm not thinking about that right now. i'm thinking about the posts in front of me, clear and fresh. text posts. gifs. amvs. there's enough to live another twenty years on this blog. i splash my face. i laugh. i fill my bucket. i'll have to bring more. we'll have to get the pump set up. because there are enough new supernatural posts here for me and my children to build a life.

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Love Language (Jason Todd x Reader)

Prompt: Jason Todd with a gift giving love language

Jason Todd wasn’t the best good at- capable of expressing feelings of affection. Maybe it was just a byproduct of having skipped most of his adolescence, what with the interruption of being buried alive then resurrected in green goop. But whatever, maybe that was just speed running his character development.

What’s not so nice however, is that he’s missed out on those teen years of fumbling through relationship firsts. Sure, maybe they’d be awkward, and he’d look back and laugh at those memories today. But part of him feels like those adolescent years would be far more forgiving towards hesitant confessions and embarrassing slip ups.

Now he’s having to navigate it all as an adult. Unfortunately, it’s not all smooth sailing for Jason, what with his twin quest for revenge and justice blocking out most of his schedule.

The thing is, he has no issues knowing what affection should feel like. He’s experienced the butterflies in his stomach, his throat lodging up because he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing, sneaking glances and immediately averting his eyes when he gets caught admiring you.

He’s experienced the pre-date nerves, having to stare down the mirror to convince himself he’s got this (why is it so much easier to punch a bad guy then tell you that your hair looks nice??)

And he’s also experienced the post-date embarrassments, replaying moments where he felt like a total dunce cause of something he said without thinking (he swears up and down he was not being raunchy when he said he likes sleeping with you. He meant it in the literal sense! Your presence helps lull him to sleep)

No, he definitely has no issues in experiencing sentiments of love and affection. But man does he struggle expressing said feelings.

He’s not sure he’s the best at communicating his fondness towards you. At least not with words, given his tendency to put his foot in his mouth when it comes to matters of the heart.

He’s come to realize while he may not be the best with words, he’s a good listener with a keen eye for detail.

Er- okay, perhaps he could have a keener eye for detail, but hey a man’s gotta have his Achilles heel right?

And that is exactly why he’s stood in the living room right now, with three different pairs of vintage sunglasses neatly laid out on the coffee table in front of you.

His stiffens a bit at your questioning gaze before clearing his throat.

“So, do you remember last week, when you were helping me out with groceries and we passed that vintage charity shop on the way back to my place?”

You do have a vague recollection of passing by a well decorated store selling accessories and other Knick-knacks. You nod as you briefly recall pointing it out to him.

He takes your nod as a sign to continue, “Right so, you had pointed out the store, and I recall you admiring a pair of sunglasses at the window display… you said you’d buy it when you get your next pay cheque. But I thought I’d surprise you with it instead”.

Right, well you are surprised, so that bit was accomplished. Though you can’t help but note how he talks in terms of a singular pair, yet there are three (very stylish) pairs of sunglasses in front of you. So you were surprised and confused.

You look back at him, the question on your lips. But the slump of his shoulders and grumbled huff escaping him tells you he’s already figured out what you’re gonna ask.

“Now look, I remembered the shop… I just couldn’t recall which pair you were talking about. So I- uh, I bought all three of them”.

‘Great. Now she’s gonna think I’ve got the memory of a goldfish and make poor financial decisions’

Jason barely suppresses a groan at the thought, averting his gaze in embarrassment.

“Look I think you’d look good in all of them, so yeah… I mean at the very least you like one of them right?” He asks, his voice faltering towards the end as he begins to doubt whether this was a good idea to begin with.

You barely suppress a laugh at his predicament. Of course he’d do this. Instead of just asking you, he’d rather just buy all three pairs to surprise you.

Your mind flashes back to all the times he’s voiced concern that he’s not expressive enough of his feelings towards you, worried that it would drive a rift between the two of you.

But you know that’s not true at all. He does care, he cares a lot. He’s just got a different love language, one that fits him all too well.

You shake your head with a smile as you rise up from the sofa, walking over to engulf him in a tight hug.

“You’re such a goof you know that?” You mumble against his shirt. Jason mutters in protest though he wraps his arms around you without missing a beat.

You lean back to see his face, a bright smile adorning your features, “Thank you I love them, all of them. And I love you” you declare before pecking his cheek.

A short laugh escapes him at your actions. He takes a moment to drink in your happy smile before proceeding to flick your forehead.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“I’m no goof”

“Oh you’re not? Is that why you technically bought one pair of sunnies for the price of three?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, deciding not to respond lest he implicates himself further.

So maybe words of affirmation aren’t his thing, and maybe it will take him a bit longer to respond back with ‘I love you too’.

But that’s not to say that Jason Todd isn’t completely and hopelessly smitten with you.

—————————————————————————

God he’s so fun to write, a total deer in the headlights when he’s in love.

Should I try this with other love language prompts? Lmk if you have any suggestions!

[valalice]

۶ৎ dating older gf! caitlyn kiramman and having to endure the drastic ways the two of you text. cw. age gap (two consenting adults, about a 10 year age gap). reader is a college student. slightly suggestive. a somewhat modern au?

when you first started dating caitlyn you found it endearing and rather cute at how proper she texts you. always making sure to start her sentences when a capital letter and having correct punctuation. going out of her way to correct your speach : "Remember to capitalize I's, darling." // "There should've been a comma between there." // "So many exclamation marks, my baby must be really excited."

she also became rather familiar with all of your quick abbreviations, but not without questioning them : "What does PMO mean?" // "At this point, I know that one!" // "ABT means about?" // "I know BRB. Do you really think I'm that old?"

no matter at what stage you and caitlyn are at she will always keep sending you those chivalrous texts that makes your heart flutter when you read them. they started during the early stages of dating and they just happened to stick : "Good morning, Baby. Just made it to the office, already counting down the hours until we meet up for lunch." // "I hope your classes haven't been too draining today. Remember to eat and stay hydrated!" // "I miss you, pretty girl. Would you mind if I stopped by for a moment to see you?" // "You just continue to take my breath away."

older gf! caitlyn loves to spoil you by randomly sending you money, screenshots of purchases she got for you, or secret gifts that pop up in front of your door. she doesn't think twice when she sends you money or spends money on you, it's so casual for her to care for you in this way. but, it was, and still is an adjustment to openly accept the large quantities of money she's sending into your bank account : "Don't worry about it, darling. You deserve it with all your hard work." // "Got you a little gift. X" // "Spoil yourself for me while I'm away on this conference." // "Look outside your door." // "I have your rent covered for this month, love." // "Treat you and your friends to a dinner."

you love to see how you're rubbing off on her in the way she text. she isn't adapting all of your short abbreviations for words and sayings, but she had adapted the use of you "Adorable emoji faces." as caitlyn calls them, even though you try to tell her they aren't even emojis : "Going to be picking you up in a couple of hours. Can't wait to spend the weekend with you. :D" // "But you could also do homework at my place. ;)" // "The office loved those brownies you baked! You're such a sweetheart. <3" // "Work? >:( I told you I'd take care of you. No need for you to worry your pretty little head about anything."

and when you try to send her suggestive text and decide risky on her phone, on her internet, older gf! caitlyn is quick to put you in your place : "Don't start something you can't finish." // "You're being a little minx today, aren't you?" // "Mhm. You're too cute when you're needy." // "Where'd my good girl go, and why has she been replaced with a brat instead?" // "A please could get you a long way."

. . . as much as you tease older gf! caitlyn on being "so old" and "texting like an old lady" you find all her efforts at keeping up with you (and even correcting you) heartwarming.

[fxstpace]

in the spirit of matrimony

summary: iwaizumi hajime is getting married and you and your ex, oikawa tooru, must pretend you’re still together to avoid ruining his big day. the charade, however, proves to be a lot more complicated than you thought.

pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader genres: romance, angst, exes to lovers!au, fake dating!au word count: 3.0k

↳ warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption ↳ a/n: reposted from my old blog (@/sokuroo). a little bit of info on some terms used: an izakaya is a type of informal japanese bar; oshibori is a wet towel offered at dining places used to clean one’s hands before eating; otoshi is an appetizer offered at izakaya

Oikawa Tooru is currently using the shower in your hotel room, and you are running late for dinner with Iwaizumi Hajime because of this.

You sit on the plush armchair in the corner of the room, picking at the raised swirls and curlicues embroidered on the cushion. You’re supposed to be meeting with Iwaizumi for dinner in fifteen minutes, but Oikawa seems to be taking his own sweet time getting ready. You can’t say you’re surprised. 

Irritated? Yes.

When he finally bursts out of the bathroom, looking like a Louis Vuitton model, you simply grab your purse and hotel card, and stride out the door without a second glance. Oikawa Tooru isn’t worth your time or energy—for now.

He catches up with you quickly—volleyball legs, and all that—and you can smell his perfume: Cremo spice and black vanilla. You hate the fact that you remember; you’d rather not, but he hasn’t changed the scent in five years and it’s always the little things that are the hardest to forget. In his black button down shirt and with his hair styled carefully with gel, Oikawa definitely looks attractive. He knows it, too, probably, and it gives you a twisted sort of satisfaction knowing that he can’t go about flirting with every person who catches his eye.

He simply cannot, because as far as Iwaizumi Hajime is concerned, you and Oikawa are still together.

“Don’t forget,” you mutter, just low enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves his hand dismissively before tucking it back into his pocket. “It’s just Hajime. Don’t worry.”

You bite back a sigh. It would do you no good to appear so visibly vexed—and it would cause Hajime to worry unnecessarily, which does a lot more harm to everyone involved. The only thing you want him to be worried about is wedding preparations and becoming a husband in three days. 

Your old friend meets you at the hotel lobby, right before Oikawa furtively slips his hand into yours. Iwaizumi looks tired—his clothes look rumpled and he has dark circles under his eyes—but he still smiles at you and Oikawa in the same way: boyish and crooked. You grin back at him.

“Hey, you two.” Iwaizumi opens his arms and pulls you in for a hug. His stubble brushes against your cheek, and you frown. 

“You’re growing a beard?” you ask incredulously, when you pull away.

He chuckles. “I wish. I need to look handsome on the day of the wedding. Akari thinks it makes me look rugged.” He shrugs and adds, “Personally, I can’t tell the difference.”

“How’s Mrs. Iwaizumi doing?” Oikawa cuts in. He smiles at his best friend, a quick flash of his teeth that you haven’t seen in ages. It almost makes you wish he still smiled at you like that. Almost.

“Akari’s great,” Hajime answers, the edges of his smile turning fond. His fiancé is truly the sweetest, and she’s perfect for Iwaizumi in ways no one else ever could be. It’s difficult to doubt their love, and you consider yourself lucky to have witnessed them falling for each other in college. “Really great, actually. She told me to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t make it today, but she can’t wait to see you both tomorrow.”

Your ex-boyfriend sighs dramatically. “Iwa-chan. The only entertaining person of the evening is missing. Whatever shall I do?”

“I’m sure your girlfriend will provide ample entertainment, Oikawa,” Hajime deadpans.

Your cheeks flood with heat at the implication. You’re the furthest thing from being Oikawa Tooru’s entertainment tonight, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s laughing internally at the predicament.

“She’s good at entertaining me with other things,” he retorts, waggling his eyebrows in that infuriating way of his. “Not funny enough, unfortunately.”

You bristle. “Uncalled for, Oikawa.”

He turns to you—the first time he’s looked at you properly since you arrived at the hotel in their hometown—and, taking your hand in his, rubs his thumb along the back of your palm. You nearly shiver; Oikawa used to do that all the time when you were still together, and the small gesture now makes a lump form in your throat. 

“Just kidding, babe,” he says indulgently. “You know I make up for the lack of humour on your part.”

You have to give it to him. Oikawa Tooru is a magnificent actor. 

The way he talks to you, as though both of you hadn’t walked out of the hotel room without saying a word to each other is a feat in itself. He speaks to you as though nothing has changed, as though everything about the way you’re projecting yourselves to your friend is completely natural. You close the hole in your chest where Oikawa used to reside; you will not fall for his little antics—not when he chose to leave you alone.

You roll your eyes, meeting Hajime’s fond—if exasperated—gaze. “Ignore him.”

“I’ve been doing it my entire life,” he responds.

“You are mean and I hate you both,” Oikawa whines. Both of you ignore him.

“Let’s go,” Hajime says. “The izakaya gets really crowded later in the night.”

You wipe your hands on the soft cotton of the oshibori, scanning the menu taped onto the wall. Next to you, Oikawa digs into the otoshi, and in front of you, Hajime sips on his glass of beer. 

“Yakisoba noodles sounds good,” you murmur, “don’t you think?”

“I wan’ the chmmkn kraagh,” Oikawa says immediately through a mouthful of potato salad.

Iwaizumi sighs and translates, “He wants the chicken karaage.”

You scowl. You and Oikawa Tooru can never agree about things. You’re both too stubborn and hot-headed to budge from your opinions, and towards the end of your relationship, the number of petty arguments that were a result of your clashing personalities was high. At one point of time, you might have said that it was one of Oikawa’s qualities that you admired.

Right now, it just irks you to no end.

“We can order both,” you suggest. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. He makes a show of swallowing, exaggerating the bob of his throat, before he turns to you and states, “I want the chicken karaage, and I know Iwa-chan likes it more than yakisoba noodles.”

“Actually,” Hajime says mildly, “I kind of want the sashimi.”

“Let’s just order all three.” You bring your glass of beer to your lips and take a sip.

Iwaizumi looks curiously between you both. You take another sip of your beer, and you come to the realisation that for an outsider—like Hajime—you and Oikawa look absolutely nothing like a couple.

The fault is yours: You didn’t tell Hajime about your break up with Oikawa, and neither did he. Hajime still thinks you’re together. Neither you nor your ex-boyfriend are tactless enough to tell him that you aren’t dating anymore three days before he’s getting married. Iwaizumi is excited, and you aren’t about to dampen his happiness by telling him his two best friends haven’t spoken to each other in months.

That’s how, for the first time in ages, you and Oikawa Tooru decided that you couldn’t ruin Iwaizumi Hajime’s Big Day, and it was also how Operation: Pretend Like You’re Madly In Love So Your Surprisingly Intuitive Best Friend Doesn’t Feel Bad came about.

You set your beer down again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Can I try some of that?” you ask, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder with yours.

He pauses mid-chew, chopsticks held high in the air. “Sure.”

You nudge his shoulder again, a little bit more forcefully this time. Oikawa glares at you. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to send him some sort of telepathic signal. His eyes widen.

“Here, babe,” he says, plastering a grin on his face. He picks up a chunk of the creamy potato salad that was served as the otoshi and holds it up. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to gently bring your face closer to his chopsticks. You fist your fingers, nails cutting crescents into your palms, and accept the mouthful he holds out to you.

“Good?” Oikawa murmurs, his eyes not leaving your face.

You hum. It is good, rich and tart with a touch of sweetness, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to verbalise it. Your gaze flits downwards as you gently pull away from his grasp. Your jaw tingles where he held it.

Iwaizumi grins at you—almost knowingly—when you pick up your beer again. He holds a hand up, calling for the waiter to take your orders.

The alcohol washes down the taste of the food, but your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

It is always alcohol that loosens your tongue, and it’s the same for Oikawa Tooru as well. The beer you had at the izakaya lowers the towering walls between you both somewhat. It’s easier to speak to him, now, and after you switch on the lights in the hotel room and kick off your sandals, you whirl around and face Oikawa.

“What the hell was that?” you seethe, glaring at your ex-boyfriend.

He pauses in the middle of taking off his shoes. “What the hell was what?”

“You almost blew our cover! Didn’t you see the way Hajime looked at us?”

Oikawa cocks his head to the side, and his cluelessness only infuriates you even more.

“God, you haven’t changed one bit!” you rant. Your chest heaves with emotion—you’re not sure what emotion, exactly. Anger? Resentment? Foolish hope? Or perhaps a cocktail of all three that causes you to feel nothing but confusion. “Hajime is getting married in two days, and I know you couldn’t care less, but for his sake, can’t you make this whole—whole act more believable?”

“You— What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Oikawa’s eyebrows raise upwards incredulously. “You think I don’t care about Iwaizumi’s wedding? I met him before I even knew you existed.” He scoffs. “Of fucking course I care!”

“Then would it kill you to act like you still love me?” You take a step forward, eyes narrowed and index finger pointing at him. “Is that it? Is it so repulsive to pretend like you still have feelings for me, so that your best friend doesn’t worry about us?”

“That’s not it, and you know it,” Oikawa snarls, a frown marring his features. “We should’ve told him as soon as it happened.”

Hearing him refer to your relationship as it feels like a slap to the face. You falter, cursing yourself inwardly.

Of course he doesn’t care for you now. Why would he, after he decided that long-distance relationships were too much effort? I don’t see us working out in the long run, he’d explained over FaceTime. I’m sorry.

Two days later, you declared yourself officially single. You burrowed yourself in piles of work and forgot to tell Iwaizumi Hajime because talking to Hajime would remind you of Oikawa, and you weren’t ready for that yet. Eventually, you just… didn’t tell him.

That’s why it came as an unwelcome surprise to you when you walked into the hotel lobby and found Oikawa Tooru waiting there, with his arms crossed over his chest and his suitcase by his feet. You’re here, he’d said, and you wanted to punch yourself for the way your heart somersaulted in your chest.

You finally find your voice again. “But we didn’t, so would it kill you to just… not be so fucking obvious?”

Oikawa remains stoic, though you suspect he’s just as agitated as you are. “Yes. I don’t want to do this at all.”

Something in you breaks. How easy it is for Oikawa to break your heart. You’d given him the fragile thing, made of glass, and he had knocked it over like it was a house of cards more than once. 

“Fine,” you grit out, bending down and picking up your footwear again. The alcohol buzzing in your head isn’t enough—you need to stop thinking, need to find some way to stop yourself from constantly imagining him. “See if I care.”

You shoulder past him and place your hand on the doorknob.

“Where are you going?”

If you really strained your ears, you could almost hear the imperceptible concern in Oikawa’s voice. You brush it off; he doesn’t have any feelings towards you, as he’s made so amply clear.

“Why do you care?” you retort, before pushing open the door and heading in the direction of the hotel restaurant’s bar.

The room is dark when you open the door.

It’s a little past one in the morning—or so one of the bellhops had said when he kindly escorted you back to your room. Your mind is swirling.

It seems even getting yourself batshit drunk isn’t enough to eradicate all thoughts of Oikawa.

The walls spin. You stumble inside. Your hip bumps against something solid—a table, probably—and you let out a startled yelp. 

Oikawa’s voice is like a balm, soothing your feverish forehead, when he says your name.

How are you supposed to get over him? How are you supposed to go back to living alone when you’ve had this taste of what it could be like, regardless of how authentic it is?

The answer is clear as day: You cannot.

A pair of hands guides you by the shoulders to the bed. Oikawa is careful, gentle with his hold on you. You sprawl on the bed sheets, the fabric cool against your cheek. He appears like an outline in the darkness. 

“Are you okay?”

“God,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Oikawa.”

He remains silent for a moment, before he clears his throat and says, “You asked me why I care about where you go.”

You don’t say anything.

“I just do,” he continues, “and I don’t know how to explain it. But I do care.”

His fingers are warm when he caresses your cheek. The last thing you do before succumbing to sleep is murmur his name—a curse, but somehow reverent.

When you wake up the next morning, the sheets next to you are rumpled. There is no sign of Oikawa anywhere in the room, but there is a tall glass of water placed on the bedside table.

Through the pounding of your head, you squint at the note written using the hotel stationery placed beside it. 

Drink up. Hajime and Akari are bringing us breakfast.

Breakfast is a lively affair. You’re glad to see Akari again, happy to see the to-be-newlyweds so patently in love with each other.

Oikawa keeps his hand on your thigh, steady and comforting, and offers you golden smiles whenever you catch his eye, and you swallow down the awful lump in your throat.

The day passes by in a blur.

It’s on the day before Iwaizumi’s wedding that Oikawa Tooru kisses you.

Wedding photos are unnecessary, you think. After all, you’re not the one getting married. But Akari had been insistent that you and Oikawa take some pictures together, and you couldn’t refuse her beseeching gaze.

Oikawa, clad in his dapper suit, with his hair styled using copious amounts of hair gel, places his hands on your waist and draws you in. His fingers bunch up the material of your dress. The photographer asks you to place your hands on his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thrum underneath the pads of your fingertips. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, leaning in. 

You nod.

His mouth tastes like spearmint and the chocolate muffins he’d shared with you at breakfast. 

The afternoon passes by in a daze.

As you walk through the wedding venue, noting all the decorations and the flower arrangements, Oikawa slips his hand into yours. 

“You don’t have to,” you say. “No one’s here to see us.”

“I want to,” he replies simply. He is serious now, not his usual boisterous self, the way he is around Hajime and Akari. “It’s a nice place, no?”

You press your lips together. His words are oddly reminiscent of what he said the night you were drunk. Your stomach twists into knots, but if you don’t ask him the one question that has been nagging at you since then, who will do it for you?

“Tooru,” you say.

He stiffens. It’s the first time you’ve used his first name since you broke up with him.

“Why didn’t you tell Hajime we broke up?” you ask.

His shoulders loosen and his mouth twists upwards in a crooked, sad sort of smile. 

“Because I love you, and breaking up with you broke me in some way.”

Your voice is quiet when you ask, “Why did you?”

“I didn’t want to be the one holding you back,” he says, just as quietly. “I didn’t want you to be constantly worrying about someone who didn’t even live in the same country as you. You deserve someone who will be there for you. Someone you can come home to after work, and talk about your day, and cook dinner together with. I couldn’t give you that.”

You want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. What a stupid, idiotic fool you’re in love with.

“Silly,” you say. “I only want you.”

The wedding happens on a sunny afternoon, and it is beautiful. Akari is radiant, and Hajime tells her that he’s the luckiest man ever. They are in love, and looking at them doesn’t hurt anymore. Your ex-boyfriend turned current boyfriend presses his shoulder against yours and gives you a small, knowing smile when he catches you almost tearing up. You nudge him back, and his smile grows into a grin that envelops his face in gold.

(“You’re the golden one,” he’ll tell you later, pressing feather-light kisses to your collarbones and cheeks. You’ll say he’s wrong.)

Right before the crowd disperses, Oikawa takes your hand and brings it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss against the knuckle of your ring finger.

Later, he whispers to you that it’s all in the spirit of matrimony.

Oikawa Tooru is using the shower in your bedroom, and he’s running late to catch his flight back to Argentina, and everything is perfect.

[sunfairiess]

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | sarah cameron’s pov | childhood best friends to lovers | brother’s best friend | best friend’s sister | fluff | soft boy jj

synopsis: sarah cameron meets her boyfriend’s sister for the first time, and understands what being soulmates means.

warnings: cursing, slightly mention of violence

wc: 2.9k

it’s my first time writing a character x reader (and actually writing a ff in years lmao) so i really hope this turned out well! also, i apologize for any typos or grammar errors but english is not my first language <3

song rec: about you - the 1975 ♡

“c’mon guys, time to go back. it’s starting to freeze out here.” pope said, placing his fishing rod by his side before getting up and walking towards the helm of the boat, kiara following him to keep him some company. he was right: the temperature had started to drop, and honestly he didn’t even know why the pogues decided to go fishing at the end of november.

they were all there, except for the pogue princess as they liked to call her. she was john b’s younger sister, just by one year; and even though she was definitely a pogue down to her core, she actually almost looked like a kook: she was always composed, never drank too much, never even touched a cigarette or a joint, and she worked her ass off every afternoon at the country club to help john b with the bills and to afford a few of the things she liked.

she was smart, kind, the type of girl to lighten up a room with the sound of her laughter. she was also one of the reasons why the ‘no pogue-on-pogue macking‘ rule was made: everyone kind of had a thing for her, and jj maybank was the first in line.

“i seriously regret coming, i think i’m going into hypothermia.” jj said, shuddering a little bit. yes, it was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. jj just liked to be dramatic.

“gosh, you’re such a pussy.” john b laughed, smacking his best friend behind the head. they’ve know each other for more than ten years now. they weren’t friends anymore, they were brothers. they loved and cared for each other very deeply, even if they were acting like jerks most of the time.

as pope started the engine of the hms pogue, ready to go back to the château, john b took his sweatshirt off to pass it to sarah, his new girlfriend. she was a kook, but she was different. she didn’t care about how dissimilar their lives were, she loved spending time with the pogues because they were real. they were amazing friends, they were funny and smart, and the kind of people you could have a serious conversation with. they weren’t superficial like the kooks, and she loved them for this.

she felt a little tap on her leg, catching with her vision her boyfriend’s sweater. she gave john b a smile and slid the blue piece of clothing on. “so, i’m meeting your sister for the first time today, uh. big step.” sarah joked, slightly pushing his arm.

since the first moment they started dating, john b had always talked about how he wanted her to meet his sister. she was the most important person in his life, especially after his dad went missing at sea during a storm. he actually wanted sarah to meet her right away, but she asked him to wait a couple of months, just to see if they were solid about this relationship. “yup, and trust me you’re gonna love her. she’s like a little ball of sunshine, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” he said, smiling at the thought how of sweet his sister was with everyone.

“he’s right. i don’t think i’ve even ever seen her mad.” jj stated, shifting his seat from john b’s right to sarah’s left.

“she seems really nice, but i’m not worried about me liking her, because, by what you guys always say about her, i already do. i’m just worried she won’t like me, you know because of the whole pogue-kook thing.”

everyone bursted out laughing at sarah’s words, her face more confused than ever. “what? what did I say?” kiara left pope at the helm of the boat, and went to sit in front of her, crossing her legs together. “you don’t need to worry about that, she doesn’t give a shit about the rivalry. trust me, she looks like she walked out of a cruise brochure. the only thing she wants is to see her brother with someone who makes him happy, which you do, so she’s totally gonna be fine with it.” sarah smiled at her words, feeling a bit more relieved now.

even though pope wasn’t seating next to them, he could still perfectly hear their conversation and see sarah’s tensed body. that’s why he decided to lighten up a bit the discussion. “you know, one time she made jj dress up as a reindeer.” he said getting out a chuckle at the memory of jj dressed as one of santa claus’s reindeers.

kiara followed him with a loud laughter “oh my god it’s true, i almost forgot it.”

sarah gave them an amazed look. she was enjoying this too much to not say anything. “okay, this is actually the funniest thing i’ve ever heard. did you had a red nose like little rudolph, too?” she said with a smirk, turning her head towards jj’s.

“oh shut up, all of you. i only did it because she asked. besides, she looked so happy when i changed into that costume. i would honestly do it again.” jj let out an involontary smile at the thought of y/n. it was like this all the time: wether he wanted it or not, the only thought of y/n made him feel like he was the happiest man on earth, even if he wasn’t. she just had that effect on him.

“god, it’s sickening how whipped you are for my sister.” john b said, mimicking a gag reflex.

jj rolled his eyes at his words. sarah switching her gaze between the two boys sitting one to her left, and the other to her right. she then stopped to look at jj. “wait- you like y/n?”

“like? hell, he loves that girl. he’s been in love with her since he was six. the random hook ups he has? that’s all for show. he only does it to not draw suspicion, since the only girl he’d like to fuck— and sorry john b— is y/n.” pope said, fully exposing his friend’s feelings.

not that jj cared anyway. everyone knew how he felt about her, he didn’t even try to deny it anymore.

“and you’re completely fine with it?“ sarah asked john b, knowing how protective he was when it came to his sister.

“i wasn’t always. first time he told me he loved her? i punched him. not my finest moment but i was kinda mad.” john b replied, slightly chuckling, reminiscing his right fist hitting jj’s jawbone. “i mean, the day before he tells me he sees her as a little sister and then that he wants to sleep with her? hell nah, i wasn’t having that.”

“and what changed your mind?”

“because it’s jj. i know my best friend, and i know how much he cares for her. i knew he was never going to hurt her, i’m actually pretty sure he would die for her.”

sarah nodded along. the look on jj’s face confirming that what john b had just said was a hundred percent true. in that moment a thought crossed her mind, making her think about how what jj and y/n must’ve been something truly special.

“bubba, we’re home.” john b shouted, as he opened the château’s door. the house was silent, except for a light melody coming from the bathroom and the sound of the shower running. “shower! be right there!” sarah heard y/n shout back, as every one of the pogues sat on the couch: her ending up between her boyfriend and kiara, next to who was seated pope; and a bit far away from them jj. she figured he left the space empty for y/n.

about ten minutes later, while the pogues were having a conversation about an upcoming party at the boneyard, a sixteen year old girl came out of the bathroom, wearing a pink sweater and long white sweatpants. white socks at her feet and long wet hair cascading down her back. she walked up to them, bending slightly to place a kiss on her brother’s cheek, and proceeding to do the same with all the others.

she then retraced her steps and stopped in front of sarah. “so you’re the reason why my brother stopped being a cranky old lady.” she smiled, offering her her right hand. “i’m y/n, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“sarah. it’s a pleasure to meet you too, john b’s always talking about you.” sarah replied, shaking her hand. y/n let out a small laugh, as she walked towards the end of the couch were jj was seated.

she plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her bottom and leaning into him. he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and gently leaving a kiss to the side of her head. “he’s always talking about you too. i swear the other night he woke me up around 3am just to tell me how amazing your date was. which, don’t get me wrong, i was very happy to hear about.”

“you literally throw a pillow in my face.” john b said.

“duh, because you woke me at 3 fucking a.m. i love you bird, but for gods sakes let a girl sleep.” she replied, making everyone laugh at her comment.

the conversation resumed pretty quickly, this time through with jj paying way less attention to it, more focused on the girl next to him.

the entire evening, between laughters and bottles of beers, sarah observed how jj and y/n were always caught up in their whole world. jj’s hands being constantly on her body, wether it was a arm around her shoulders or his hand on her leg. they were glued to each other, sometimes even whispering between them words only they could catch.

for the second time that day, sarah thought about how jj and y/n’s bond was special, going beyond simple friendship.

it was almost two a.m. when kie and pope left, both returning to their respective houses to avoid their parents storming out on them. sarah instead was going to spend the night there, so since jj and john b were on the front porch smoking a joint, obviously a jj’s idea, she and y/n were the only two people moving around the living room, cleaning up the mess of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes.

the whole night she noticed how jj and y/n acted around each other, so since they were now alone, she just felt like she had to ask. “so what’s the deal between you and jj?”

“there’s no deal, we’re friends.” y/n said calmly.

“bullshit, i noticed the way you look at him and how he looks at you. that’s the look of love, sweetie.” sarah decided not to mention how jj actually felt about her. it wasn’t her place to say tell the truth.

“nah, jj would never go for someone like me. he only sees me as a little sister, besides i’m not even his type.” she replied, giving her a kind smile, even though she felt like a lump was stuck right down her throat. y/n always knew she wasn’t the kind of girl jj would want, the were total polar opposites, and truthfully she never even considered herself that much beautiful to have a chance with him.

“since when jj has a type? doesn’t he hits on every breathing human being?” sarah knew this probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but sometimes people needed a little push to blurt out their feelings. to her surprise though, y/n laughed, most likely because she knew how their friend had a habit of flirting with almost every girl he met. it didn’t matter if they were pogues or tourons, or hell even kooks sometimes. a pretty girl is a pretty girl, doesn’t matter where she comes from.

“kinda, but he always hooks up with victoria-secreys-models type of girls, if you get what i mean. and apart from that, we want different things. he doesn’t do relationships and i don’t do random hook ups. not to mention how the possibility of me and jj being together would probably give an aneurysm to my brother.”

“eh, i wouldn’t be so sure about that, ya know. either way though, you like him, don’t you?“ sarah said, remembering the conversation she and the other guys had on the boat.

busted. y/n stayed silent, sailing her lips in a thin, straight line. she then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready to spill everything out. she figured it was time to tell the truth anyway, since sarah clearly figured everything out.

“i met jj when i was four, we were in kindergarten and some older boys were picking on me. i was smaller and basically on the edge of tears, until i saw this blonde boy running towards me and putting himself between us. even if he was younger than them he still took my defense. after that he walked me home and told me he was a friend of john b’s. since that day, i don’t think i’ve ever liked someone that wasn’t him.“

she took a small pause, just to catch her breath. but she was so caught up in narrating the whole story, that she didn’t notice john b and jj leaning against the doorframe.

jj’s eyes almost bursting out of his face at her words, not expecting to hear her confession. john b, very aware of how his best friend was going to lose his shit any minute now, he places his finger against his mouth, mimicking him to shut up.

“as we grew older the roles kinda reversed and i started to look out for him: when he would come here bruised because of his father i would hug him and clean him up; even if younger than him i helped him study, you know just avoiding he would fail some subjects. at night, dad used to let him sleep next to me or john b because he didn’t want to be alone, thing that of course dad prohibited when i turned twelve. that didn’t stop him though: he would sneak out as soon as john b would fall asleep and come under the covers with me.”

she let out a laugh. “would sir. freud love this? probably yes, but it doesn’t matter. he deserves someone that cares for him, everyone does. and it’s not pity or mercy, i genuinely want to be there for him, because he deserves the best. yet, because of his father he’s convinced he’s worthless, but he’s not. gosh, he’s so funny and smart, which i know sounds weird but he is. he would die for his friends and cares so much for us. and i’m sure he could make it out of obx if only he wanted to. and he’s always so supportive and gen-“

she could’ve kept going on, but she suddenly noticed the two boys staring right up at her. jj’s eyes were watery, like he was going to cry any second now. he didn’t cry much, only when really fucked up things happened in his life, but for the first time he felt like crying not because he was sad and tired but because he was happy. because finally he could’ve had something great going on in his life. he could’ve had her.

without saying anything he launched himself into y/n’s arms, letting her stumble back due to the rushed impact between their bodies. he hold her tight, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck. his face placed in the space between her shoulder and her neck, breathing in the smell of the coconut soap she always used. he didn’t care about sarah and john b still being in the room, he wouldn’t even care if a freaking zebra walked in the house. she was the only thing that mattered. she was his whole universe.

“you shouldn’t eavesdrop, maybank.” she said with a smirk, putting a bit of distance between their bodies so she could look at him in the face, but still managing to play with the of hair at the nape of his neck.

“did you actually mean it? like for real?”

“every word, jay. you know me, i would never lie to you.”

jj maybank was impulsive. half of the time he never thought before acting, which pretty much resulted in him dealing with the aftermath of his stupid decisions. that’s why he didn’t think twice in grabbing y/n’s face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers.

at first he felt her stiffening, probably surprised by his gesture, and for a moment he really thought he had just screwed everything up. but then her hands went to his shirt, yanking him even closer if possible, and he sensed her relaxing, her lips moving against his.

after what seemed like hours, he pulled back, only because they both needed air. if it was up to him, he would’ve spent hours kissing her without getting a break.

“i’ve been loving you for a long time, princess.” she smiled, her cheeks almost hurting because of all the happiness she was feeling.

“well, you’re very lucky then, because i’ve been loving you for a long time too.”

“i can’t watch this, i think i’m gonna throw up.”

sarah nudged her elbow into her boyfriend stomach, giving him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up or i’m killing you’. john b raised his hands in the air, admitting defeat.

and, as they watched jj starting to kiss y/n again, sarah thought of how her own relationship was truly amazing. but in her opinion? what y/n and jj had was the true definition of soulmates.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi !! i was thinking about logical by olivia rodrigo when she sings "said i was too young i was too soft, can't take a joke can't get you off" and it got me thinking of rupert campbell black x younger!reader getting into a huge argument about something and he says that to her in the heat of the moment and then maybe they end up having make up sex idk

thank you <33

February Sky.

The highs are so high, but the lows are so low.

rupert campbell black x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. angst. so much use of the word darling. this might be a tiny bit toxic, but...

word count - 2.3k

authors note - title taken from logical by olivia rodrigo (which fits him so well, by the way). thank you for this request, erica!! it works so beautifully. I tried not to make it too toxic, but I think rupert is a tiny bit toxic, regardless. oops. and yet we love him anyway.

masterlist. inbox.

“What’s the matter?”

You’re curled up in the armchair by the fire, cup of tea warming the palms of your hands as the flames warm your toes. You’re still wearing your ballgown, hair still pretty in its updo and makeup still perfectly done.

“Darling,” you hear come from the kitchen, where he’s no doubt pouring himself a whiskey.

You stay quiet, taking a sip from your mug and sitting in your frustration.

Rupert appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame and taking in the sight of you. The first thing he observes is how cosy you look. The second thing he observes is how annoyed you look.

“Darling,” he repeats, walking over to kneel in front of you. “What’s the matter? Did you not have a good time?”

You’ve gotten very good at picking your battles with Rupert. Sometimes, you let go of whatever’s bothering you to save yourself the aggravation of an argument. Other days, much like today, you just can’t seem to keep a lid on your anger.

“I was having a good time until you made me feel stupid in front of everyone.”

“W-what? What are you talking about?”

You look down at him, his wide eyes staring up at you with genuine confusion painted across them.

“When I told that story about the horses, at the dinner table. I saw that look you gave Bas. It was like you were laughing at me, not with me.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel stupid. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“Do I? You did the same thing a few weeks ago at Lizzie’s. You so easily undermine me when I’m speaking with a look or a laugh. That’s all it takes, and you don’t even realise.”

“Darling, I’m just joking with my friends. I’m not sure why you’re taking this so personally. It’s a non issue that you’re making into an issue.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Well I could argue that it’s not fair that you’re telling me that I make you feel stupid. That’s an accusation that’s not fair.”

He gets up, moving to stand by the fire with his glass in his hand.

“I feel like you’re just dismissing me,” you say quietly, squeezing the mug tighter in your hands.

“Because you’re acting like a child.”

“You’re treating me like a child,” you retort quickly, sitting up straighter in your chair.

“Look, darling. Maybe this is just our gap in life experience rearing its head. You’ve got a lot to learn, and sometimes it shows.”

“You know, our age gap only becomes a problem when you make it a problem. You want a sweet, young girlfriend until she acts her age, and then it’s an issue.”

“Because you can be so mature, and then all of a sudden you’re throwing a tantrum like a child,” he fumes, placing his glass down on the mantelpiece and folding his arms over his chest. “You’re young and you’re soft, I’m not oblivious to that. But sometimes you can’t take a joke - or sometimes you miss the joke completely. It’s not my fault if you twist that into me making you feel stupid.”

You put your mug down onto the side table, willing yourself not to get upset. You stand up so you’re no longer below him, still keeping a distance between the two of you. Breathing in deeply, you exhale shakily in an attempt to keep yourself and your composure together.

“You’re acting like my age is something that came up later, Rupert - and that’s not true at all. You knew how old I was when we met. You knew I was significantly younger than you.”

“Yes, I did. Maybe I just wasn’t aware of how often it would come up as a point when we argued.”

He leans against the fireplace wall, sharp features illuminated by the light of the flames. All that can be heard are the sounds of wood crackling and two sets of lungs heaving for breath.

“You’re making me feel like I’m insane,” you burst suddenly, sick of biting your tongue. “You’re acting as if everything is all my fault. When will you take some responsibility, Rupert? When will you hold your hands up and say ‘do you know what - I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it’, hmm? Why do I always have to apologise?”

“Darling-”

“No, I’m sick of it. One minute, you’re telling me our age gap doesn’t matter because we’re in love and I’m mature and intelligent and everything you need - and the next minute you’re treating me like some sort of virginal lamb that doesn’t know the difference between left and right. Make up your mind, because you’re making me dizzy.”

“If you’re so sick of it, why are we doing this? If you are so sick of it, you know where the door is, darling. I’m not forcing you to stay here.”

That’s all it takes for the tears to start falling, hot and heavy down your cheeks. Your sadness seems to be uncontrollable, stemming from your chest and humming through your veins. You’re surprised you’re not turning blue, a perfect personification of sorrow.

You stand your ground and cry in place, refusing to move to him for comfort. Eventually, he breaks first, unable to watch you sob any longer.

“My darling,” he soothes, striding across the space to wrap his arms around you. “My sweet girl.”

His nicknames only make you cry harder, burying your face in his crisp white dress shirt and undoubtedly getting makeup all over it. He doesn’t care, one hand gripping the back of your neck while the other wraps around your waist to pull you closer.

“That was really mean,” you blubber into his chest. “Do you actually want me to leave?”

“No,” he reassures, rocking you in his arms gently. “No, darling. No. God, that’s the last thing I want. Honest.”

“Why did you say it then?”

Your voice is muffled, face still pressed against him. He smells so familiar and masculine and Rupert that it only makes you cry more.

“I… I don’t know,” he confesses, squeezing you tighter. “I shouldn’t have. You know me, I- I say things I don’t mean when I’m angry.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Your fingers are gripping the back of his shirt, holding on for dear life.

“I know, darling. I know.”

You sniffle as you pull back slightly to look up at him, surprised to see his eyes teary and glistening.

“Do you love me, Rupert? Because, because- if you… if you really wanted me to leave… you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Sweet girl,” he breathes, cradling your face in his hands. “Of course I love you. The fact you even have to ask breaks my heart. I don’t want to you leave - I love having you here. And god forbid, if something bad did happen between us… we both know we wouldn’t stick around and pretend that this is something it’s not.”

Part of you knows that he’s good at this - saying exactly what you want and need to hear. The rest of you is stupidly relieved, letting his words wash over you like a balm on a scrape.

“I didn’t like it when you laughed at me tonight. One, because it made me feel stupid, and two… because I don’t want people to doubt us. You know what they’re all like. They see the tiniest crack and dig their fingers into it until it’s a gaping wound that they can all gossip about.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he murmurs as he sweeps his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. “I shouldn’t give them any ammunition. I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t realise it would upset you so much. There was no malicious intent on my part, I swear - it was just a joke between friends. You know Bas adores you.”

“I know,” you half chuckle. “He tells me every single time he sees me.”

“Exactly,” Rupert grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “But no one adores you the way I do. I can promise you that.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head against his chest. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, meaning you can feel his warm skin against your cheek, comforting and familiar.

“Rupert?”

He hums, encouraging you to continue.

“Will you stop bringing up my age when we argue? I don’t ever mention that you’re older than me, but you’re so quick to call me young or inexperienced or a baby.”

“Yes, darling. I’m sorry that it seems like a focal point for us - it’s not, I swear.”

“You kissed me.”

“Hmm?”

“You kissed me, that day in the garden. Not the other way around. You made the move first. I’m not some innocent girl chasing after you because I’m naive and too young to know any better.”

“I know that. I kissed you because I thought you were the most magnificent girl I’d ever met. I still do.”

He tightens his arms around you, gently rocking you like a child again.

“I don’t want to argue anymore,” you mumble, sighing deeply.

“Neither do I, darling. We’re finished with the arguing now. Promise.”

Rupert takes half a step back, to give him a better look at you. You still look beautiful, even if you do have mascara running down your cheeks and lipstick smudged across your face.

“I love you,” he murmurs as he leans in to kiss you.

“I love you too,” you manage to mutter against his lips, kissing him back as hard as you can.

He kisses you carefully, methodically, as if he’s worried he’ll spook you and you’ll take off running. He’s keeping you close, hands gripping your hips to plaster your body to his. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging the dark locks with a little too much force, which he doesn’t seem to mind.

Rupert walks you both towards the fire, lips never parting from yours. His hand finds the back of your dress, pulling down the zip in one smooth movement. It falls to your feet, kicked to the side in disregard. He sits down in the armchair and pulls you with him so you’re straddling his lap, legs on either side of his hips and arms thrown around his neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, fingers tracing patterns up and down your bare back.

You press kisses into his neck and down his chest, the hair there tickling your face as you do it. Your hips have slowly started to move against his, both of you out of breath as the stakes get higher and higher.

He undoes the zip on his trousers, smirking when you whimper at his knuckles brushing your wet core. He pulls them down just enough to free himself, not worried about getting completely undressed.

“I want these off,” he instructs, pulling at the waistband of your underwear. “Now, darling.”

You wiggle them down your legs, kicking them off one foot in the direction of your dress. You’re fully naked in his lap, while he’s still wearing his shirt unbuttoned with his trousers halfway down his thighs. You both look debauched, more scandalous than you could ever imagine. You wish for a moment that you had a mirror, desperate to watch the way you need each other.

You take matters into your own hands and line him up, sinking down slowly so you can savour the stretch. It burns just right, the slight ache a welcome intrusion.

“Shit, darling. That’s it. Good girl.”

Tangling your fingers into the back of his hair, you start to wind your hips up and down - gently at first, and then with more vigour. Rupert lets his head loll back into the chair, exposing that gorgeously tanned neck of his. You nip at it with your teeth, grinning when he groans all low and slow.

He cups your tits, squeezing and pinching as he begins to buck his hips to meet yours. You’re determined to do all the work yourself, but he can read your body language like a book, whether you like it or not. He knows you’re getting tired, but will point blank refuse to admit it.

One of his hands slinks between you to rub firm circles onto your clit, both of you moaning when you clench down around him. He can tell you’re almost there, just needing the tiniest push to throw you over the edge.

“There we go, good girl. My good girl. All mine.”

That’s all you need, back arching and legs shaking as you reach your climax. Yours triggers Rupert’s, the most delicious groan leaving his mouth as he comes. He looks like a Greek God, all chiseled and glistening in the firelight.

Burying your head into the crook of his neck, you breathe him and try to calm your pounding heart. You can feel his heart battering against his chest where it’s pressed against yours, bodies tangled together in the armchair.

The two of you catch your breath for a while, revelling in the warmth of the fire and the company of the other. Eventually, Rupert carries you upstairs, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear and stroking your hair as he does it.

I was wrong, earlier, you think as he tucks you into bed and immediately climbs in next to you, plastering himself to your back. No one could love me like Rupert does.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, even if I sound like a broken record…

reblogs are gold dust to writers!! reblog the fics you read and enjoy, and your favourite writers will keep writing them for you!! it really is that simple!! <3

[chococara25]

Thanksgiving

AU where Buck woke up, thinking about Tommy and decided to cook for Thanksgiving, baking crusty pecan pies & pumpkin pies, delicious green bean casseroles and sweet potato gratins, cheesy cauliflower cheese with turkey bacon bits, creamy mashed potatoes and the classic stuffings.

After done with baking and cooking, he realized he had no one to give it to (Everyone would just give him weird looks if he brings everything to potluck Thanksgiving dinner, plus they had forbid him from cooking) and wondering if he should donate to the homeless shelters cos at least someone can sleep warm with a full stomach when Lucy Donato texted him out of nowhere complaining how everyone is swamped in calls all day long and how hungry they are including Tommy, who came in to cover someone's shift and EPIPHANY!! He can just give them to the 217 AND check on Tommy at the same time.

He starts to pack everything before separating some food into different containers and stick a sticky note on each of them. He then unload the bread loaves and cookies he had been making for the past week into a basket cos waste not, want not right?

Tommy coming back from a weird call involving some idiots trying to make turkey barbacoa in their backyard when he saw everyone gathering around the dining table, stuffing their face, moaning about the delicious food and praising the cook.

He was confused till he turned around to see Evan of all people staring at him, unruly curls and dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey. Lucy said you guys haven't eaten all day." Evan looked awkwardly at him.

(At the corner of his eyes, he can see Lucy slunking off guiltily, carrying a whole pie and weird a plate of cupcakes with her)

Evan looked as if he wanted to say something but looked away, his lips twisted unhappily. He pushed a bag full of containers and a basket full of bread and cookies at them before running away.

Tommy hid in one of the closets, checking the bag and basket, its contents each marked by a sticky note.

The Banana Loaf - "Everytime I think of calling you, I baked instead. Now my fridge is full but I'm still thinking about you."

The Snickerdoodle cookies - "Jee asked where cool uncle Tommy was. She misses her tea party partner."

Vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake - "I can't stop thinking how you would enjoy all the cakes and pastries I made for the past few months."

green bean casserole - "I still have your clothes and I kept wearing them to sleep cos its the closest thing I have to you because I have a hard time falling asleep without you holding me in your arms"

Carrot cake loaf - "I saw a helicopter today at work and I wonder if it was you flying it. We never did have that flying lesson."

cauliflower cheese - I'm sorry I never told you I love you when I really do. I love you and I missed every single minute the moment you walk out of my life.

pecan pie - I'm sorry I said the wrong things when I asked you to move in with me. I'm sorry I too much in the end for you and drove you away."

pumpkin pie - I'm sorry you felt pressured but I didn't lie, I really admire you and your confidence made me feel safe, being with you was like waking up for the first time from the lightning coma, I could breath again and you were the one who set me free.

sweet potato gratin - "You said you were my first but not my last. Tommy, you might be my first boyfriend but you definitely my last."

stuffings - "You are my beginning and my forever happy ending. I have no interest in looking for a different happy ending if you're not in it."

By the time he reached the last container, his eyesight were blurry with unshed tears.

Brownies - "Can we try one more time? I'm not ready to give on us."

Tommy was startled when the door to the closet swung open, Captain Pruitt looming over him with a plate of pecan pie in her hands. "I saw firefighter Buckley earlier when he dropped off the food. I don't know what's going on between the two of you and why both of you decided to break up, but Kinard, that man looks as if he still in love with you."

She panicked as Tommy burst into loud tears, holding the container of brownies to his chest.

Evan was cleaning up his kitchen, he was too tired and too emotionally wrung out to stay for the Thanksgiving dinner other than dropping off the last two pies for everyone to enjoy.

He frowned when he hear the doorbell, wondering if Maddie is going to stage another intervention on him when he opened the door, before staring in surprise.

Tommy was standing in front of him, still wearing his flight suit, holding the container with brownies and the sticky notes in his arms.

"Can we talk?" He asked with hopeful eyes.

Evan pulled him into the loft, closing the door behind them.

[bullet-prooflove]

Buck + ferry ⛴️ flowers 💐 firetruck 🚒

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mckinleysbones @sophiah2253 @qutequeersstuff @gatefleet

Buck meets you at Catalina Island during a call out. You’re dangling from a top rope halfway down a cliff face, rendering first aid to another climber, whose hanging 50 feet up in the air after knocking himself unconscious. It takes them a while to get down to you, they’ve come by air rescue because the fire truck can’t make the ferry trip to the island. They have to find the right anchor points to rappel down safely, bringing their kit and a backboard with them.

He can tell you’re on the job from the way you relay the information regarding the other Luis, the other climber’s condition. You use the same terminology, talk in a calm precise manner and you’re not squeamish, especially not about the bone that’s sticking out of the guy’s arm.

“They’ll get him down and then I’ll clip you in with me, the two of us we’ll go down together ok?” He says to you as Eddie and Chim begin to guide Luis’s form further down the cliff face.

“Honey,” You drawl, fixing him with a shrewd stare. “Trust me, I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way down.”

Honey…

For some reason the term makes Buck’s cheeks color.

As you start the descent it becomes clear to him that you’re a skilled climber, your movements are smooth, careful and in coordination with his own. The two of you set a quick pace as you abseil down the cliff. If it were any other circumstance he’d probably find it fun, but Luis has just woken up and he’s screaming blue murder because he’s just realised his forearm looks like something out of a gore movie.

“You’re one of us aren’t you.” He says when you both reach the bottom and you give him a quizzical look as you unclip the carabiner from your rope. “A firefighter?”

“Mountain rescue.” You tell him loosening the harness around your waist. “I usually work out of the national park. Today’s my day off, I thought I’d get some time in on a different rockface so I came out here to the island and then-” You gesture to Luis, shaking your head. “- your guy over there ends up bashing himself on a couple of boulders trying to get a picture with those flowers sticking out for the ‘gram.”

He's about to respond when Bobby calls out to him, he turns his head to acknowledge the words and by the time he turns back you’re already walking away to pack up your kit. He guesses you won’t be doing much more climbing today.

He can’t stop thinking about you on the way back, he takes out his phone and Googles the Los Angeles Mountain Rescue website, he finds your name on the Team Section. He spends the rest of the shift going through your Instagram feed, scrolling through your pictures, getting a sense of the person you are.

Fun, adventurous, a little wild, a little soft.

All traits that appeal to Buck in a partner.

“Are you gonna keep cyber stalking her?” Chimney asks as he drops down on the couch alongside him. “Or are you actually gonna do something about it?”

Sliding into your DMs reminds him of his dating app days and Buck, he’s not looking for something casual, he wants to settle down, experience something real.

It’s a few days later that you run into each other, literally. He’s grabbing a smoothie order for the firehouse when he collides with you in the doorway, he’s skimming through your feed again, whilst you have your eyes fixed firmly on your own screen. He apologises as he knocks the phone out of your hand, bending down to pick it up and that’s when he sees it. His profile live on your screen. It looks like he’s not the only one that’s been doing a little cyber stalking.

“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day.” He says as he hands the phone back to you. “I’m Buck.”

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[alecvolturiswifeforever]

a kiss for a promise 𝜗𝜚 alec volturi x reader

warnings: none!

tag list: @your-next-daydream @agirllovespancakes @icefrozendeadlyqueen @iloveslasher @pawspurpaw @alecvolturi @kiiwiigii @im-ovulating

a/n: was not expecting to write today but hey ho! this was not proofread so just don’t mention it okay!!!

Staring out into the streets of Volterra you couldn’t help but let out a sigh, basking in the peaceful silence and the soft breeze that greeted your face. The nightlife had died down a while ago and you couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved. The loudness was never fun to listen to and, it only seemed to remind you of the fact you were stuck up here. In this stupid room of this stupid castle.

It could be worse.

You let out another sigh.

At least you have a nice balcony view.

Completely lost in thought, you failed to hear - and notice - the door opening and closing, yelping with a flinch as a voice spoke from behind you.

“Are you okay?” Alec’s eyes met yours, the unusual flash of concern floating through his red iris’s and spreading across his face into a frown. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m good. Thank you.” With a soft inhale you caught your breath, heart still racing slightly in the presence of the deadly twin. He nodded in response, eyeing the space next you. “Can I?”

You gestured for him to stand next to you, mirroring your movements and leaning against the handrail to follow your eye line into the street below. After a moment he broke the silence.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been better.”

You always kept your answers short, not feeling in the mood recently to deeply converse with anyone.

Alec sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Y/N. Please-“

A groan left your lips, turning to face him.

“I’m fine, Alec. Okay?”

He frowned again, not liking the way your voice wavered. “I can tell when you’re lying,”

You scoffed and pushed yourself away from him completely, an attempt to leave however he gently caught your arm before you could. The vampire pulled you back (albeit a little closer to him than you wanted to be right now) and looked down at you in exasperated, voice breathy as he tried to reason with you.

“I just want to help, sweetface. Please.”

His fingers brushed a hair away from your face, and you just about missed the way his eyes fell to your lips before moving back to your eyes. The vampire listened intently as you opened up to him, soft murmurs and grumbles spouting out from you.

“I just don’t get why I have to be stuck in here all the time.”

He sighed, “It’s for your own safety… and ours. Master Aro-“

“Yeah, yeah. He thinks i’ll expose the secret. I’ve heard it all before -“ You rolled your eyes, “But I think if I went around town hollering about vampires I would be locked in a padded cell for life.”

Alec chuckled in response, loosening his grip on your arm and trailing his fingers down your hand. “I am sorry, Y/N.”

It was your turn to frown, shrugging lightly.

“It’s not your fault we were written into the stars by some ancient gods or something.” You giggled to yourself as you realised how silly it truly sounded. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, happy to see you smiling for the first time since you were placed in the room.

“I’ll talk to them, see if they’ll let you wander for a little bit. Would you like that?”

Your eyes lit up with a gasp, taking his hands in yours with a light bounce.

“You would do that for me? Please?”

He chuckled again with a nod, feeling your hands tug at his own.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You giggled.

Without thinking you leant forward, pressing your soft lips against his own. It was like second nature, the way you connected. The vampire kissed you back, barely moving as if frightened he would hurt you.

Basking in the gentleness for a moment, you quickly came to your senses, realising you had kissed him without even comprehending the action and pulling your lips away from his. Spilling out a slew of apologies you tried your hardest to tug away.

He whined quietly, lifting a hand to cup your cheek with a breathy whisper, “come here.”

Alec pressed his lips against yours once again, rougher than you and previously but still far from hurting you.

You melted into him immediately and the kiss deepened from a peck for just a moment. Your vampire pressed closer to you, trying to steal some of your warmth for himself, the friction of your soft skin against his own sending sparks down his spine, electrifying his thoughts until the only thing on his mind was you. The way you felt pressed against him, the way your hands gently gripped his forearms, the way your lips carefully followed his movements. Everything about you was perfect to him. Perfectly made for him.

Hands moved from your face to your waist, fingertips brushing beneath your shirt and forcing you to pull away with a hiss.

“You’re freezing, Alec!”

He simply smirked back at you, pulling your shirt down to cover your skin fully before tugging you close and resting his chin on top of head.

“Don’t ever try to lie to me again.” He spoke against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head “I’ll make sure they let you out of this room,” And another, this time laying his cheek against your hair after, “I promise.”

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; no yapping today

part one. part two.

you never knew how relaxing it was to lay in the sun, the steady movements of the boat gently rocking you side to side. it was almost as if you hadn't set fire to everything you and john b grew up believing.

john b knew his mom took off when he was a kid, what he didn't know was that she was pregnant when she left. you thought that your dad died and your mom lived in your hometown her entire life.

both of you agreed that, for now at least, this branch of the family tree would be kept from the others until you've had enough time to fully wrap your heads around everything without the added input from everyone else.

"ladies and losers." john b claps, grabbing the attention of everyone on board "with the newest addition to our dysfunctional family," he gestures in your direction earning applause from the group, with the addition of a cheer from jj "the no pouge-on-pouge macking rule is still in full effect, just in case anyone has forgotten."

you don't miss the glare sent in jj's direction, the blond in question, however, was too busy making a face at you to even notice that he was the target of that rule.

it takes everything in you not to laugh, you understand why the rule may have been implemented in the past. young kids making up rules to protect their friendship. but you surely were all old enough and mature enough to handle real adult relationships.

"does our newest recruit partake?" pope asked throwing a can of beer to jj and kiara before looking at you once more.

"are you forgetting she was flat drunk when she went all cat woman on topper?" kiara joked, cracking open her can and raising it to you "to passing your initiation."

"and to beating the shit out of a kook!"

"here here!"

you sit up to bow as the others raise their cans to you, unable to stop the soft laugh that escapes as you sit up again "thank you, thank you. i'd like to thank my agent, my manager,"

john b jokingly shoves your shoulder to shut you up "a little humility wouldn't kill you, you know."

"humility is for losers" you taunt, making your way over to the cooler to see for yourself what was inside "besides, you owe me so humility is redundant."

before you can continue excusing your incoming speech, you're jolted forward by a sudden bump in the boat. you lose your footing, grabbing the closest thing to you and dragging it into the water with you.

person. the closest person to you and dragging them into the water with you.

you were a pretty decent swimmer, decent enough to not drown at least, but when you hit the water, any swimming ability was replaced with dread. truth be told you shouldn't be surprised, not even twenty four hours ago someone did in fact try to drown you so it was only natural you began to panic.

your brain was begging your body to do something, to override your fear with instinct, but no matter what you did all you could do was kick and flail.

you cling to the familiar frame dragging you to the surface, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala clung to a tree. you hid your face in the crook of jj's neck to shield your tears from the group, even if there was a chance you could explain it away as water in your eyes.

"you're okay, baby" jj coos, his hand cradling the back of your head "you're safe, i got you."

"the fuck was that!?" kiara shouts, helping the boys drag you and jj back onto the boat.

pope peers out over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that could be in the water "guys, i think we hit a boat?" he calls out over his shoulder.

almost as if in sync, jj and john b exchanged a knowing look. they knew what it meant, from what you learned so far they've been attached at the hip for years so it wasn't a shock that they had some weird telepathy.

without a word from either of them, they dive off the side of the boat and into the water, undoubtedly to scout out whatever pope had spotted. neither kiara or pope showed much of a reaction, probably because they were used to their antics.

you, on the other hand, sat by the edge of the boat and peered into the murky water below. you were holding your breath, waiting for any sort of sign of life from either of the boys.

time passes agonisingly slowly, but soon enough you spot the unmistakable head of brown hair rising to the surface.

"jackpot, baby!" jj hollers, throwing his arms into the air in celebration "one poor bastard made aggie mad, that's a seriously primo boat."

kiara shrugs "what do those kooks expect, they're harming the environment with their flashy boats, it's karma."

"easy there, greenpeace." john b huffs, pulling himself up and into the boat "mother natures most recent victim could have all sorts of profitable shit inside."

"exibit a," jj announces proudly, producing a silver canister from his pocket "would our newest pledge like to do the honours?"

"i would love to incriminate myself by stealing private property!" you exclaim, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. nonetheless, you take it from him and shake its contents onto the floor of the boat.

the metallic clang makes everyone wince, the group sighing in disappointment of seeing what was inside.

"wow, greaat, almost died over a lousy compass." jj groans, plopping himself down into a seat.

"it isn't a lousy compass," you mutter, scrambling to retrieve your fathers' compass from your backpack and comparing the two side by side.

they were identical.

"cause that isnt freaky.." pope mumbled, peering over your shoulder.

when you look to john b, he's already looking at you, knowing exactly who this compass used to belong to.

"it's a set," your voice sounds like you have just joined the dots of a brain wracking mystery.

"two compasses, one for each kid."

before anyone can question what exactly john b meant by that, a sharp noise zips past your ear, grazing the top of your arm and scaring the shit out of you.

the five of you look towards the source of the noise, another boat is coming towards the hms pouge, and the two men on board looked far from pleased as they aimed their guns right at the five of you.

"shit, shit!" john b ducks into the drivers seat and hits the gas, jolting all of you backwards as you sped through the marsh "get down!"

you all do as instructed, laying face down on the boats floor, rocking with every sharp, zig-zagged movement john b made. each of you flinch every time a metallic ding rings out against the boat's exterior, you hear kiara humming a tune to keep her mind occupied.

your eyes scan the boat for anything that could help, an idea coming to you the second you spot an old fishing net.

"y/n, what are you doing!? get down!"

you ignore popes shouts, moving quickly to gather up the net and toss it off the back of the boat. as you had hoped, the aggressors' boat gets caught up in the net, allowing john b to get you all out of there without harm.

"you moronic genius!" john b half praises, half scolds, the moment the boat stops at the chateau's dock. grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake "what is with you and almost dying?"

"a thank you wouldn't hurt," you retort, the throbbing sting in your upper arm still as prominent as when it first happened "this poor girl couldn't handle it."

you pat the side of the hms as you climb off, your fellow pouges following behind as you all tiredly drag your feet towards the house.

"looks gnarly," jj remarked, appearing beside you and focusing his gaze on the small wound on your arm "here, lemme help out."

you are very much aware that it's nothing more than a surface wound, barely a graze, yet you allowed jj to lead you over to the hammock and sit you down.

when he headed inside to grab what he needed, you sank into the comfort of the hammock and closed your eyes. the slight breeze, the gentle rocking of the hammock, the warm sun burning down on you. it does a good job of helping you decompress from the insanity that ensued since your arrival.

the hammock shifts under you when jj returns, the extra weight tilting the fabric to bring you closer to him. he doesn't want to speak, to disturb you in your peaceful bubble. he knows he's staring but he can't look away.

"you just got here and you already look like you've been put through the wringer." jj jokes, though there's a clear sense of seriousness underneath.

and he isn't wrong, the bluish bruises staining your throat from toppers hand, and now the blood smeared all over your arm which made it look much worse than it was.

"two near-death experiences will do that,"

"two near-death experiences so far.."

you know he's telling the truth, but you can't help but laugh as he helps you sit up. a comfortable silence falls between you as he wipes around the graze with a cloth, before gently placing a bandaid over the wound.

the close proximity doesn't seem to phase either of you, at least not enough to get anyone to move. without a word, he reclines back into the hammock, an arm out in a silent invitation.

you reason with yourself that it was harmless, john b's 'macking' rule echoing in your ears as you considered your options. realistically speaking, both you and jj knew this was far from harmless but more like the edge of a slippery slope you could both snowball down.

but you were tired, and it was jj, and the others weren't even around to see it.

no harm, no foul, right?

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