#.NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN BECAUSE WE FOUND A VERY COOL BLOCK AND ARE STARING AT IT INTENTLY 10000 BLOCKS AWAY FROM SPAWN

[cursedthing]

.that time when you have the itch to play in a mc server instead of a single player world vs the fact that We Do Indeed Have Severe Anxiety and also most of the people we'd play with is across the world and we can't. stay up to play with them. anyways can someone please stop giving us the curse of finding a thousand spider spawners per mineshaft we are drowning in spiders. please

[epheyll]

Accismus

ethan winters x reader pt. one

the x reader we all deserve

accismus.

noun. an ironic rhetorical device, in which one feigns indifference, or makes a pretense of refusing something one desires

tw | may contain scenes of graphic violence or gore, cursing, suggestive themes, ect.

"ollie where are you?" you called out, stumbling over a slick tree root. you hated it when he played too close to the bakers' house, and now you couldn't find him. it was a humid day just like any other in dulvey, and the air was sticking to your already sweaty skin. it felt so hot you thought the dew might boil you alive. another step had you right in front of the gate towards the bakers' house. no one had seen them in a very long time, but you weren't dumb. you'd read every article regarding the missing persons. you didn't want your brother to become another statistic.

panic rising, you cupped your hands around your mouth, hoping the 12 year old boy might hear your cries. "come on, ollie! it's time to come inside! it's getting dark!" the only thing that answered was a flock of crows startled from their nest.

you grumbled, cursing quietly and promising to give your brother a scolding he'd never forget when you found him as you now had to scale the fence. your shoes squelched in the mud as you took the step forward, cringing and hoisting yourself up onto the fence. you grunted as you swung your leg over, jumping down, cold, slick mud splattering all over your shins.

"gross," you muttered as you trudged through the muck, looking for a trail. the cool mud was a contrast to the bright sun beating down on the top of your head. after this you'd take a nice long shower. maybe two. that didn't seem like it'd be anytime soon though because the further you walked, the more lost you got. now, you were no outsider to dulvey, but there were certain rules these passed few years that you just didn't break. even in your grown adult age, you treated them like a sacred oath given by your very own parents.

rule 1. never, under any circumstances, cross the fence blocking off the bakers' house from the rest of town.

alright, rule 1 broken. you couldn't exactly go back now, not when you were ankle deep in writhing green mud as you ducked under tree branch after tree branch to avoid getting knocked square in the forehead. a crunch from not too far away alerted you, and you went deathly still, holding your breath as you listened. listened. and then heard a soft curse that definitely didn't sound like jack or marguerite baker. actually, it didn't sound like anyone you'd ever heard in dulvey.

you crept towards where you could still see the fence, a gaping hole in the bottom of it, and when you went to peek through-

you yelped, startled as you fell back on your bottom, just as the man in front of you did. the very clean man, you noted. nobody, and you meant nobody, was clean in dulvey.

rule 2. never, under any circumstances, talk to an outsider.

they only ever showed up to cause trouble, though this man didn't exactly look like trouble. no, he looked quite the opposite in his button-up shirt and dirty blonde hair. the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. or were they gray? it was like you were staring at a storm cloud. he seemed just as surprised to see you, like maybe you weren't real. or maybe you looked absolutely crazy covered in mud and cut up from the brambles you'd walked through.

"who the hell are you?" you blurted out, and he almost looked offended by your tone. or maybe confused. you weren't exactly sure what to make of the stranger.

he crossed his arms, tilting his head as he eyed you skeptically. "i could ask you the same thing. cause you kind of look like a trespasser."

"doesn't that make you one then too?"

"fair enough,"

you stood up from the ground, wiping off your pants and hands the best you could, staring at the man through the fence once again. "i'm trespassing for a good reason though. have you seen a little boy around? about..er- this high?" you held your hand to about ollie's height, though it felt silly without him right beside you. "he's got dark hair. and bright green eyes." you explained, but the stranger didn't seem to recognize. that made enough sense. he didn't know you, so why would he know ollie? wishful thinking. "nevermind. who exactly are you?" you demanded as you gripped on to the edge of the fence.

the stranger ducked into the hole at the bottom of the fence, joining you on the other side. "name's ethan." short and to the point. that still didn't exactly answer your question, and he must have seen the look on your face because he continued, "you won't believe me if i tell you why i'm here."

"try me," you insisted as you backed away from the stranger. maybe he looked prim and proper, but no one with good intentions ever stepped onto the bakers' property. and no one ever returned afterwards. you thought about warning the stranger of just that, but if he didn't have good intentions, you weren't sure you'd even want to see him again.

ethan was already moving passed you, following the faint trail ahead, and eager for answers (and still looking for your little brother), you followed after him. "i'm looking for my wife. she's been missing for three years, but i got word that she might be here in dulvey. she wants me to come get her."

from the bakers' house? unlikely. you wanted to tell him that his wife was long gone along with the other missing people, but you bit your tongue and gave him a rather uncomfortable look. "right. you think i'm crazy." ethan sighed helplessly but continued to march down his path. even though you'd seen him wince everytime he stepped in some mud.

"no, not at all." you tried to sound lighthearted as you stepped over puddle after puddle, but it sounded more like you were taunting him than anything. "i'll help you look for your missing..er..wife? if you help me look for my brother. i was supposed to watch him for my parents this week, and i haven't seen him for hours." which made you sound like a terrible older sister and babysitter, but you had a job and bills to pay. you couldn't exactly spend every moment watching after your brother.

ethan, desperate for help in this unfamiliar place, shrugged. "okay, but only if he's on this property. i'm not sticking my nose anywhere else." you supposed that was fair enough, but you couldn't help your scowl at his tone.

suddenly, ethan halted and held an arm out to stop you from going forward. he crouched down and you followed, peeking over his shoulder at whatever he was looking at. in front of you, an older man (who you thought might be jack baker) was stomping through the underbrush. he looked angry, unlike the jack you had known before. the kind that would come to the festivals in town, singing and laughing with his family. the loving husband and father. this one looked..deranged, and you almost felt bad for him. if you weren't convinced that he was a maniac serial killer.

jack pushed on and left the two of you unnoticed, but you didn't feel ethan breathe again for a solid minute after the figure was gone. he stood and walked forward, not even bothering to see if you were still there. it seemed he had a mission, and you might just be in his way. still, you had a mission, too, and you wanted to find your brother before your parents found out he was missing.

you hadn't seen the bakers' house since you were a little kid, and the sheer size of it was enough to impress you. and how rundown it looked. surely the bakers didn't still live there? you didn't see how they even could considering the roof looked caved in and there were gashes in the walls.

ethan wasted no time sliding down the hill, the ground much drier here. he looked up at you expectantly, but you couldn't do much but stare down. "no way." you argued as he gave a frustrated sigh.

"i'll catch you." it was a crude joke to make, and his tone suggested that he knew exactly that, but still, he smiled at you. "come on, didn't you ever roll down hills as a kid? or go sledding? it isn't even that steep don't be a ba-" you didn't give him the chance to finish his— probably rude— sentence as you all but fell down that hill. you yelped as you crashed into his legs, and he yelped as he fell back on his butt, knocking against something behind him.

"you said you'd catch me!" you yelled as you scrambled to get back up. you tumbled over him as he tried to get up as well, the both of you nothing but flailing bodies in the dirt.

ethan grabbed at your shoulders and pushed you back so that you were sitting on your knees. "i didn't mean literally!" he argued right back as he went to grab for the thing he'd landed on. a red purse. it looked an awful lot like mia's. and it was surprisingly clean. what was her purse doing out here? ethan dumped the contents onto the ground and frowned as he saw it was, in fact, mia's things.

an ID stared up at you, and you saw that it was a rather pretty woman. she had light brown hair, and she couldn't have been much older than you. there was no doubt that she wasn't from around here. you'd never seen her before.

beside you, ethan was taking this much harder. his silence was almost scary. you stood and offered him your hand as you inclined your head to the abandoned home. or, well, you hoped it was abandoned. "let's go look. maybe she's inside." you knew she wasn't.

ethan grabbed your hand and stood up, and you didn't know if he believed you or if he was just desperate to stop looking at the ID, even if you did see him pocket it. "yeah. maybe your brother is too." he assured, and though his smile was fake, you were grateful for it.

the two of you said nothing else as you walked towards the house.

[i-writes-things]

Field Trip? Really?

Natasha x Daughter!reader

Fluff, mama nat <3

request- Hello could you please read it is Natasha's daughter and she's going on a school trip to the avengers tower but nobody knows that Natasha is her mother @maveldc25

Warnings- mention of choking on water, one swear word, and mama nat <3

Extra Pairings::

Peter Parker x Romanoff!reader

Romanoff!reader x bestfriend

Not my gif* found on pinterest

F/N = Friends name

You walked into class and, the second you sat down and read the board you almost had a heart attack:

SCHOOL FLEID TRIP TODAY!! AVENGERS TOWER :)

You half choked on the water you had sipped from your water bottle, earning a few glances from classmates to see if you were ok.

Then all of a sudden you remembered a few weeks ago

---

*Flashback to two weeks ago*

"Ok, Class you can all pack up a little early, today... On that note, In two weeks we will be going on a field trip to, The Avengers Tower, the Avengers will be there to give us, well a little tour!" Your teacher exclaimed, clearly a bit excited herself.

You on the other hand, you were in shock.

COMPLETE SHOCK.

----

Peter stopped you in the hall after school was over

"Y/n!" He shouted your name

You turned around and smiled at him "yes?"

He looked worried "Well what are you gonna do?"

"Don't know." Your smile drops trying to think of things to do "You know we aren't in the same block, right? Just the same class"

"Yeah, I know." He rolled his eyes.

"So then you have nothing to worry about." You smirk at him, walking away and trying to rack your brain of a way to get out of it.

It's not like you could stay home, AT THE AVENGERS TOWER..!!

----

The bus ride was thankfully not too long, but the second the Tower was in view, you got a bit nervous of the possibilities, you tried remembering that they don't know, but if anyone could blow it for you, it was ALL OF THE AVENGERS

Sadly they would all be there...

---

Your class was jumbled in a group near the front doors, each group in front of you leaving one by one, and seeing Peter's class walk off with Steve Rogers, Ned admiring him and flash taking multiple pictures of Mr. America.

The group in front of you left with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, you remember the night before them arguing about having to be some sort of team the next day. They never shared the specifics.

You hadn't seen Natasha and hoped to God that she wasn't leading your group.

Then out walked, none other than..

The Natasha Romanoff herself, and you hid behind the group, trying to not be seen.

----

Your teacher on the other hand, moved towards her "Hello! I am Eliza, this classes main teacher! It's so nice to meet you! The whole class is so excited to learn all about the Avengers Tower and everyone inside it!!" Your teacher exclaimed happily shaking her hand

Natasha quickly scanned the group, smiling at them, completely missing you.

"Yes, very nice to meet all of you!" She gave a small smile

"Well, we should get started." She turned on her heel and walked off towards the elevators as you all quickly followed

You were somehow squished two kids away from your mom on the elevator, thankfully the two kids where rather tall.

Blocking you from Natasha's view.

----

You had forgotten how cool the Tower really was..

The lab had totally be redone since you last went in, and all the floors you went on seemed totally different, then what you remembered..

----

Natasha, After maybe 20 minutes had finally spotted you talking to one of your friends in the class, while everyone was walking around the Lab.

You looked up from Tony's latest invention in progress and stared right into your mother's eyes, from across the room, and she was smiling at you. The second you noticed who you were looking at, you looked away and walked over to rest of the group, looking at one of The IronMan suits, with your friend, now by your side.

"Alright everyone, we should be moving on.." Your mom said looking over your classmates and landing on you, as voices exclaimed how cool Tony Stark is..

She smiles to herself as everyone lines up, you reminded her of how you were when you first got to the Tower, so shy and unwilling to keep eye contact for very long, your nerves use to keep you from it.

You get pulled to the front, as your friend wanted to stand closer to ✨The Black Widow ✨

It was stupid, that just because no one knew that Natasha Romanoff was your mom, you were nervous. It would have been better if you were in the back, but your friend would have insisted on standing in the front.

----

You were now in one of the many common rooms, the one that not everyone used very much, you were walking with your friend looking at the all the group photos of the Avengers on the wall with dates, you moved away from your friend to look for the year you came to the Tower, almost 6 years ago...

You found it and smiled to yourself remembering where you stood for the photo.

Right next to Natasha, you remembered hugging her side and when she laughed, you smiled just slightly and the photo was taken..

You weren't in the photo on the wall, but you remember they took two photos, you were only in one.

---

"Hey! Everybody gather round. Gather Round!" Your teacher clapped her hands and we all took seats, facing the wall of the pictures, either on the ground or if you were lucky, which you weren't, some people got to sit on the couch.

"There all yours.." Your teacher smiled at Miss Romanoff

"Thank you.. As you all could see we have dates on all our yearly photos,"

She glanced at you

"we have a few copies of each that everyone can chose one and take it home, at the end!" She slowly continued, after the few claps died down from your fascinated teacher

"My personal favorite is.." She points to a photo in the middle of the wall

You started to get nervous again

"this one.." She smiled softly and glanced at you again before looking at the rest of the group of happy faces

She was pointing at the photo, they had taken almost 6 years ago...

You never knew that.

You never knew she had a favorite.

You never knew you were her favorite.

You smiled genuinely to yourself, well to yourself and Natasha saw you as she was helping your teacher hand out photos

You were nervous again, but..

You were happy. <3

---

Natasha took your whole class to the Tower's Gym, exclusively showing you all where The Tony Stark worked out.

It was cool seeing it, like you weren't in there yesterday, kicking Mr. America's ass

----

Now that the day was coming to a close, Natasha took your class back down the elevator to the lobby.

When you all got in the elevator, you stood right next to Natasha, your friend right next to you looking at the wall

"F/N?" You whispered

They looked over at you, and gave a small smile

"Wanna switch spots?" There face lit up with joy and nodded

You both moved and you looked over at your friend smiling excitedly to themselves.

You smiled at the scene.

----

After getting off the elevator, your friend told you every little detail about what happened very excitedly...

"EVERYONE LINE UP" Your teacher shouted at you all

"WAIT WAIT-" Everyone's jaw dropped

You looked over and saw that...

Tony Stark had walked out into the lobby, and a few kids from all the different classes were taking photos of him

"Before you go.." He swooshed his hand to the side and behind him was a fancy box filled with pens that had the "Stark" logo on them

Multiple kids ran up, as everyone, besides yourself, followed.

Tony noticed you weren't in the messy line for a pen, then did a double take and scrunched up his face

You gave a small wave

He understood immediately and shot you some hand guns

Natasha saw the whole thing and was biting the inside of her cheek trying to not laugh.

Your friend came back showing you the pen, admiring it fully..

You were glad your friend as least wasn't stressed out by this outing.

----

Once back at school, everyone was talking happily with each other, wearing their backpacks waiting for the final bell

*DING*

You said a 'goodbye' to your friend, and they thanked you for the elevator ride, saying you were a good friend.

-----

You pushed open the heavy door to the outside, the light blinding you for a split second, as you walked towards the familiar black tinted car

You opened the door and sat down

"Hey mama.." You closed the door

"Hey bub, how was your day?" She questioned you oddly, starting the car

"It was good, um it was really fun." You changed your answer after registering what she had asked

"It was, really fun.." You look down at your hands and hesitated but finally said

"I never knew that was your favorite photo."

Your mother smiled "It is.. The one with you, I mean.." She said checking to make sure no cars were coming to make a right at the light

You smiled again, this time out the window at the passing trees..

Natasha looked over at you at the red light and smiled to herself, leaning over to kiss your head

"Love you, Y/n/n."

"Love you, mama."



[witch-hazels-musings]

scaramouche, diluc, and childe with a [gn] reader whos terrified of needles?

Needle Fear

Warning -> General, sfw (mention of needles, getting a shot, cussing (S), sudden kiss (Ch))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Childe, Diluc, Scaramouche 

Childe

Not only has Childe seen many sicknesses and many healers, but he’s also had to help his siblings through any and all visits they had to take - so it wasn’t unusual for him when you nearly begged him to visit the healers with you

There was something adorable about the way you tightly gripped onto his hand, the way you hid behind him just enough when you walked down the hall to the examination room, the way you glanced at him or turned to him every time you heard a person walk past the door. How could he not think you were adorable? 

“Childe, it’s gonna hurt.” Your fingers curled around his shirt as you pulled him closer to you. His comforting scent and tall frame were like a barrier between you and the door you didn’t want to see. 

“It’ll be okay, I have to do this all the time.” 

“Really?” He nodded his head and lifted your chin. The smile on his face was reassuring and, for a moment, as his fingers rested against you, you forgot where you even were. That was until you heard the click of the door and the sound of footsteps. 

“Hey there, are we ready?” They entered the room and set their items on the small table next to you but all you could respond with was shifting closer into the shield you’d made out of Childe. 

“Hey, it’ll be alright. Wanna know why?” He leaned down, his arms spanning either side of you while his palms pressed into the mattress you sat on. The soft cool of his eyes brought you a reprieve, a distraction from the current environment and as you looked at him, you shook your head signaling him to continue. “I’ll be here the whole time, right here, that’s why it’ll be okay.” 

After a moment, you gave in - how could you not when he was so comforting to you. “O-okay, I’m ready.” Your hands moved to grab onto his wrists and as you heard the healer begin to prepare their items, you continued to stare at Childe. “Don’t move.” 

“I won't.” You nodded again, your eyes drifting to the healer, and when they ran a cool, cleansing cloth over your arm you tensed. “Look at me, it’s okay.” Their hand wrapped around your arm to hold you steady and your head twisted in fear.

“Childe --- I can’t … hold o-” Your words were cut off by his lips, his fingers wrapping around your jaw as he pulled you back to him. The suddenness of his kiss blocked out everything else, the heat of his lips, the fullness of his connection, it was all so distracting. 

“All done.” You pulled away, your gaze dropping to the small bandage they placed onto your arm. When did they do that?

“See, I told you it would be simple.” Childe smiled at you and you hid your embarrassment in the palm of your hand. 

Diluc

He couldn’t count the times he’s had to experience this type of care - from the constant exams done in the Knights of Favonious, to the aid he received during his three mysterious years - getting something like this was just common practice to him at this point - plus, it only took a few moments and then it was over, so it wasn’t that bad 

Though, as he watched the way you fussed, worried, and nearly drew yourself to sickness at the idea, he recalled a memory of his childhood. If he could do it for you, he would, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and he was going to need to find some other way to keep you steady 

Diluc stood next to you, his body angled in such a way that he could keep you in his line of sight while also observing the door. You didn’t dare turn around so instead, you looked out the window as you held onto your arms with a grip that hurt your fingers. 

“I don’t like this.” You muttered, watching the workers meander through the vineyards. It would have been better if you could just be with them, hide in between the many dangling grapes, and as far away from this situation as you could get. 

“I know, I’ve been assured this person is very experienced. You should have nothing to fear.” 

“Save for the whole needle part, archons, why do we even need this.” You shook your head and moved closer to the window. 

“It will only take a moment, I’ll be here the whole time.” Turning your attention away from the outside world, you gazed up at Diluc. His neutral expression surrounded by lively hair was somehow more comforting than anything you’d ever come upon in your whole lifetime. He was your rock, steadfast and sturdy, and as his fingers grazed your arm, ran over your ear, you knew his words held true. 

“Oka--” 

“Master Diluc, the healer.” You turned and saw one of the maids ushering in a young woman whose brightness lit up the room. You recognized her from the church and immediately you felt more at ease. Quickly, the instruments were prepared and as you settled onto the bed, your eyes found the one thing you were most anxious about. 

“I know you’re scared,” She began, pulling a chair close to you while she explained the process. “I’ll clean your arm with this,” She pointed to the small tin before continuing, “then I’ll gently take your arm and give you the shot.” 

“It’ll hurt, right.” You whispered, shifting uncomfortably to make more space. 

“For a very brief second. Then it’ll be over.” Her smile was so warm and you knew she must have done this quite often. 

“I’m sure it’s silly to see a grown adult so afraid of needles.” 

“Not as silly as you would imagine, are you ready?” You looked at her and nodded your head slowly but when she began the process, you turned away and closed your eyes. That’s when you felt the bed dip and a warm heat spread across your body. 

“I’m right here.” Diluc’s voice was soft, and sent a shiver down your spine - or was that the cleaning salv? It didn’t matter because as soon as your face found his chest, you disappeared into his warmth and security. All you felt was his hand over your ear, all you heard was the pounding of his heart; you weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, but by the time you looked up the healer was gone but Diluc had stayed. 

Scaramouche 

He didn’t understand your aversion to something so small. How could one little thing cause you to break down into a panic, it’s not like it could really hurt you - he’s felt much worse in his lifetime

So when you begged him to go with you, pleaded practically on your knees, he was stuck between his irritation of your complaints and how cute you were with those pouting lips and watering eyes (how adorable you look, he’ll never tell you though)

“It’s not that bad, just be quiet for one minute.” Scara pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed so loud you were sure people outside of the room could hear him. Of course, he’d be annoyed, you literally dragged him here to your check-up just so you could have someone with you when they … when they brought out the needle. Why did they need to do this to you anyway, weren’t there healers all around Teyvat that could cure you with a flick of their wrist. The fact that they also had instruments like these was confounding. 

“I know, I’m sorry …” You bit your lip and turned away from him. Your eyes finding the sheets and fingers moving to poke at your gums, teeth clenching hard around your nails. This habit was one you developed a long time ago and while you managed to curb it during most activities but when you were stressed and uncomfortable it reared its head. 

You heard the sound of Scara’s voice and turned to look at him but were interrupted by the healer entering the room. “Hello, are you ready?” As soon as they placed the items close to you, you went stiff. You wanted so badly to be calm but it was … impossible, look at that thing! Eyes darting to Scara you slipped into pleading but did your best to keep your thoughts to yourself. 

“Will it hurt?” Scara asked as he watched them prepare the needle and syringe. 

“Only for a second, I promise you won’t even notice it.” They looked at you but all your eyes could see was the large pointy metal bit that was about to go right through your skin and as a child reaches for their parent in the darkness, you grabbed onto Scara’s clothes. 

“Fine, give me one. I’ll show you there isn’t anything to be scared about.” Quickly, he rolled up his sleeves and after the healer prepared a second needled, they held his arm while he looked in your direction. 

“Ready?”

“Get it over with.” You watched as the needle moved to his arm, your head shaking but he seemed so calm. “See there is nothing to -- FUCK WHAT THE .. SHIT!?” His sudden outburst startled both you and the healer, but their professionalism powered through until it was all done. 

“Wasn’t that bad … huh?” You laughed, your hand covering your mouth as you watched him stare daggers into the person at his side. 

“Shut up, I’m leaving.” 

“Wait! I still haven’t gotten mine!!” 

“Too bad, you’re on your own.” 

“Scara!” He pushed his way through the door and you heard him shouting indiscernibly down the hall. 

“Are you ready?” The healer asked, and you began to bite your nails.  

--

tag list:

@sufzku @plenilunegazes @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt @fuwon @aoirohi @anatthesavage @actstfbla @shy-specter @fvushiguros @kaidou-pie @cyphermagic @linarizaki

[bloodycassian]

HARSH - Anon request reader x azriel

“ hey there , ngl i’ve had a pretty rough week and now in desperate need for angst to fluff, az x reader where reader had struggles talking through her life bc of a rough childhood and az helped her talk freely and helped her gain confidence when talking. Reader is talking abt something she loves and az is stressed and tells her to shut up and hurts reader alotttt but….. we can’t have a sad ending, fluff and cuddles after :)) “

"Keep going." He encouraged with a smile, his shadows tickling your cheek. It made you shy away, but you continued your story anyway. The book's pages didnt tremble when you held them anymore. You could see the pride shining from him with every new paragraph you read aloud.

  Reading was always step one of your consulting with him. It opened the connection you shared with him and his past. The poems or stories were never too long, but always held some significance to either of you. Usually the ones he read when you took turns were about darkness, or fire. Never about the hostility of others and the cruelty of nature. Nature was a relief to him in his past. In yours it was a punishment. 

Your families last words to you were as brutal as they had been your entire life. "Leave and dont come back." with nothing more than a satchel of silvers and coppers, you had no other choice than to fight to survive against the cold of winter court. Then you started travelling, far and wide. Until you met Az. 

The rest didn't matter after you met him. He was yours, and yours his. And that was the only thing you needed from then on. His chosen family welcomed you in with a loving embrace. and you learned a new kind of love. One full of understanding and patience. 

you finished your poems together and talked as long as you could before he got called away to a meeting with the high lord. You assumed it was about the forces to the east as he had mentioned earlier that week. But you left him to it, not wanting to have him more stressed than he'd already been about the threat that week. 

+ You rejoined him again in his room. You'd made both of you a cup of tea for winding down. He didn't take it when you offered, so you set it down on one of the few empty spaces on the enormous table in his room. He seemed flustered, poring over the map on his table beside a half polished sword. The dark marks under his eyes indicated another rough night. "You should rest." You said softly. He didn't move. Didn't even tear his eyes away from the map.

You stared at it with him, noting the natural limitations of troop movements. "You could get Illyrians to fly over..." You suggested, but to no response. Nerves twisted your gut. Whatever had him in such a locked state was something you likely should be worried about as well. 

His cold stare was like the one he wore on the battlefield. Some internal blocking to cope with the horror. You noted the worn book under his clenched fist. One of the ones he'd read from before. Many of its verses were about a quality of males, the infamous duality of man. How precious life was in the balance of good and evil.

You saw the doubt there in his eyes then. The anger, the guilt of everything he'd ever done in his centuries of life. The blood spilled, the words that left people broken that could never be taken back.

You desperately wanted to snap him out of his dismal state. You pulled at his arm, trying to get him to break the lock he had on the corner of the map. He didn't budge. Frustration began building deep inside you. You knew he wouldn't let you sit in silence like this. What would he do for you? 

You picked up an indicator from the map, and spun it. "Az, staring will not help it. You need rest." He was locked in though, in a trance almost. The concern pushed harder into you. Were you to get Rhys? You'd never seen Az so... cold before. With you he was always a welcoming open lover. Never this... closed off. 

His shadows slowed, but he didn't move. his eyes scanned the paper from up to down, over and over again. You rubbed your eyes. "When I was small, I would stay up late reading. Very late. My family would-"

"Just shut up for two seconds, I'm trying-" He sighed, his face going red. The fist on the book curled around it's spine. Whit knuckles bulging out. 

You blanched and stepped back. Stunned at the aggressiveness of his words. He finally looked away, his mouth pinching into a thin line at the sight of your wide eyes. He abandoned the table finally, and reached for you. His scarred hands trembled slightly. The tiredness left his features. Only regret was left there. 

You didnt know what to do. Your mind raced with the rejection. The aggression of his words. You turned and strode out of the room, shaken.

+ He found you deep in the library after giving you a few to cool down. Giving himself the verbal lashing of a lifetime. That accompanied with Clotho's harsh glare.... he didn't know if he'd ever live the words down.

He approached you slowly. As if he were approaching a spooked animal. "I'm fine." You announced. And truly, you were. You had gone to the library because it was a safe spot for you, where you could practice your breathing alone. 

You knew he didn't mean to hurt you. You knew he'd had a rough week. It wasn't an attack against you. You told yourself those affirmations over and over but they still didn't fully settle you. His presence was unmistakable. You knew he'd been beating himself up over the harsh words too. 

That didn't make you feel better though. You gave him a slight nod and he took the seat across from where you were curled up. You hoped he didn't notice the red spottiness of your cheeks, or the way your eyes were red rimmed.  By the tension in his body though, you knew he saw through your act. 

He sat at the edge of the lounge chair across from you. His looked absolutely ragged. His hair was a mess, the dark circles were back under his eyes that held all the regret in the world. "I am so sorry." He started, those dark brown eyes boring into yours. "I will never do anything like that again. I promise. I am so sorry." He continued, wringing his hands. "I dont know why I -"

"Stop..." You said, voice shaking. He obeyed, and tried to hide his own emotion. "Just.." You sighed, walked around the small table separating you and took his hands, wrapped them around your middle and sat in his lap. He held you, rocked with you while you took in his scent. The mix of it with the smell of the books was like a heavy blanket over you.

You didn't remember him taking you back to your room. But when you woke, there was a cool glass of water on the bedside table with a fresh vase of flowers. Az quietly snored beside you, blanket pulled up to his chin. 

You took a sip of the water and returned to him, wrapping yourself around his wings and sharing your body heat together in the cool room. He muttered once you settled. One small movement of his lips. "Love you..." 

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

#1 Fan [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer knows he’s seen his new neighbor somewhere before.

A/N: This was a blurb request from my sideblog that got completely out of hand so here she is as a full fic! (We’re gonna pretend like I know how OnlyFans works)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff & Smut 

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation (male & female), voyeurism(?), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 2.9k

Request: “Blurb about basically the same fic as the other one except she just moved in and he recognizes her as the person he subs to on OF. She’s describing her hot neighbor- and yeah” from @thatsonezesty13​

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The first time Spencer sees her in the lobby grabbing her mail he thinks he’s in a dream. Or maybe he’s seeing things. For a second he’s terrified that he’s having a hyper-realistic, yet somehow mundane, wet dream.

He’s been subscribed to her for a while. To be honest once he’d found her account he didn’t have much of a need to subscribe to anyone else. She was almost tailor made for him, it was sort of scary.

So when he saw her that day, and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave as she passed him in the hall, his heart all but stopped.

That night he checked her page. He compared the pictures of the sweet girl in the hall with the ones in front of him. The photos where she was wearing next to nothing, or sometimes nothing at all. The ones where she had her fingers inside of her panties, or her mouth.

He ended up spiraling that evening, partially forgetting why he was even looking in the first place. Until he was watching videos of her, fucking into herself with a toy until she was squirting onto her bedsheets.

The following morning when he woke up he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. How could it be? And if it was, would he have to stop looking? Something felt a bit perverted about that.

So he pushed the thoughts from his head. And that lasted all of 10 seconds because there was a knock on his front door. When he opened it up it was her standing there, the girl from the mailboxes, and the girl from the videos. He knew they were one and the same, who was he kidding?

“Hi!” She sticks out her hand to introduce herself, “I think I saw you the other day, I’ve just moved into the building, Y/N.”

He knows her name already, well he knows her first name, and part of him’s a little surprised it’s not fake.

He takes a moment to consider her hand, he wouldn’t usually shake a strangers hand like this but for some reason he didn’t feel like she was a stranger. The real reason her didn’t want to shake her hand was because of all the things he’d pictured her doing with them. Touching herself, touching him.

But he’s hesitated for too long, so he takes her hand, shaking it gently, “Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to— uh, meet you” he has to force his breaths out or they might not come. Looking at her up close, in person, she was too beautiful. And he already thought that about her pictures.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I always like to know the folks in my building. And especially you if we’re gonna be neighbors”

“Neighbors?” He tries to stop his eyes from popping out of his head but she doesn’t seem to notice. She just nods happily.

“Yup, I’m right on the other side of that wall” she points to her right and giggles, “knock if you need me” she jokes but Spencer’s breathing stops entirely and he can only nod.

“So um, if you wanted to hang out or anything you know where to find me” she smiles at him and starts to head back to her apartment.

He’s not sure what’s come over him, but it feels like adrenaline is coursing through his entire body as he speaks.

“I’m free right now if you’re not busy?” He asks before she can get too far away but she shakes her head.

“I’ve actually gotta head out for a bit but if you’re free tomorrow do you wanna come over and see my place. I’m sure it’s probably the exact same as yours but—”

“Yes!— I mean, um, yeah, that sounds nice, cool” she laughs at him a little, probably at his eagerness, or maybe at the way he’s blushing, he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“See you then Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid” she giggles and he’s smitten already.

— —

He’s pretty much counting down the seconds until the following evening. His mind is completely restless, he’s got no idea what to wear or how to act, or what to say.

She was just so pretty, he could barely have a 2 minute conversation with her in the hallway. How was he supposed to hang out with her for an evening.

She slips a note under his door the following afternoon:

I’m on my way out but I should be back around 8! See you then x

He wishes he didn’t stare at the little ‘x’ on the note for quite so long but he couldn’t help it. Even her handwriting was cute.

He doesn’t want to think about why he knows her already but he can’t help it. He decides that he’s not going to look at her page again, taking a cold shower as part of his preparation for that evening before agonizing over what to wear.

He settles on a purple sweater and he already feels like he’s made the wrong call somehow as he’s knocking on her door at 8pm on the dot.

“Well aren’t you punctual” she smiles at him as she pulls open the door. His stomach drops when he realizes that he recognizes the little dress she’s wearing. He’s seen her take it off before. He tries to steady his breathing but it doesn’t work super well so he just waves hello as she ushers him inside.

“I guess you got my note then” she smiles and he smiles back.

“Yeah, your— um— handwriting is really nice” he wants to slap himself in the face. What kind of complement was that?

“Thank you?” she giggles at him, “no ones ever said that before, you’re a bit of an oddball” she points him to the sofa so he sits.

When she comes to sit next to him she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses and he has to stop his eyes from bulging out of his head.

“Would you like a glass?” She asks and he nods his head, it probably wasn’t a great idea, but neither was any of this. She hands him a glass of wine and takes the seat next to him on the couch, turning to face him as she tucks her legs up under herself.

“So Spencer Reid, what kind of doctor are you?” she asks as she takes a sip from her own glass.

“I’m—um— I work at the FBI actually, I— I’m a profiler” he’s already conscious that he doesn’t want to bore her by harping on about work, or by rambling like he does right before people usually roll their eyes. But she doesn’t, she leans in.

“That’s so cool, well it sounds like it is anyway? Does that mean you read people or something?” her eyes look like they're after lighting up and she's smiling at him encouraging.

“Y-Yeah? It’s sort of like reading people I guess. We catch killers by getting inside their heads in a way, trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and hopefully what they’re gonna do next so that we can stop it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist” he’s smiling now too, the way she’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s actually doing a sort of good job not embarrassing himself.

“So you said my handwriting was nice” she says, gears clearly turning, “Can you read anything about me from that?” she looks like she's challenging him, if he didn’t know better he might call it flirting.

“Well actually graphology—sorry— handwriting analysis has been deemed a pseudoscience by most, the validity of handwriting as evidence in court has always been dubious and many of the techniques used today are the same as those employed in Renaissance England.” he rambles but she’s still engaged when he stops speaking.

“So you’re smart smart, huh?” she smiles at him, and he nods.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be neatly quantified but I do have an IQ of 187” he feels paradoxically stupid saying that, it feels like bragging or something and he already wants to take it back.

“Wow, a doctor with an IQ of 187” she takes a second to mull it over, “What are you doing hanging out with the likes of me?” she jokes, but his eyebrows knit together, he had no idea what she did, other than that thing he knew she did.

“I wouldn't sell yourself short like that, what do you do?” he asks her, at the very least it’ll stop him from spiraling.

“I work in a vintage bookstore, the one two blocks over?” She motions behind her as she tells him, and he knows it well, in fact he spends so much time there that he’s shocked he’d never seen her before.

“You work there? I’m there all the time, how have I never noticed you before?” she chuckles at him.

“I’ve only just started, I just moved in, remember?” and he wants to slap himself again, something about being around such a pretty face slashed that impressive IQ in half.

They spend another while and the rest of the bottle of wine getting to know each other before Spencer has to call it a night. Part of him wished that she was boring, or rude, or hated him, then maybe he’d be able to quell his infatuation. But this just made it worse, now that he knew her, now that he had spoken to her and she was so sweet, so smart, so funny, and still so damn pretty. He was absolutely fucked.

— —

He swears to himself that the wont look at her page again. Now that he knew her and he liked her more than he even did before, it felt like a real invasion. Part of him still felt bad about it in general, like he should've told her right away, been up front. But the moment for that had already passed so this was his next best plan.

Until he returns home the following Friday. He’s exhausted when he crawls into bed but he’s still somehow restless, the gears still turning in is brain. So he does what he always does when he wants to forget about everything else in the world.

His muscle memory opens it up, and he’s on her page before he even realizes he's done it. And she’s posted a few new videos this week. He wishes he had better willpower, or any willpower at all, but he can’t seem to stop himself from clicking on one.

It begins with her kneeling on her bed, wearing lingerie he’d seen before, it was baby pink and it was one of his favorites. She starts by dipping her fingers into her panties, teasing herself as little moans toppled from her lips. Then she started talking.

“I’m gonna tell you guys about a little dream I had last night, well, I’ve been having it all week really” she continues to tease herself a little, her other hand coming up to grab her breast over her soft pink bra as she speaks. Her voice is smooth and perfect, if he only had the audio he’d still be turned on right now.

“It goes like this. I’m lying in this bed right here, doing something a little like this, when there’s a knock at my front door. When I get up to answer it he’s there, with his shaggy brown hair, and his huge doe eyes, and he’s got these lips that are just so fuckin’ pink. I want them all over me. He comes inside and he grabs me with those huge hands of his and he pulls me right into him before he kisses me.” she moans a little as her fingers brush right up against her clit, but Spencer’s vision has almost gone blurry.

He’s not sure he’s even breathing when she starts talking again. “Then I lead him to my bedroom, and I get him out of those clothes. He dresses like an english teacher and I wish I didn’t find it so fuckin’ hot. Sometimes in the fantasy I take his cock in my mouth, I suck him off until he’s whimpering. Other times I can’t wait, I just need him to fuck me right away.” she takes off her panties then, leaving them to one side, while she grabs a toy from her bedside table.

“I like to fuck myself with this, but all week I’ve just been imagining that it’s him. He’s just so pretty, I know his cock has to be too. I want to know what it feels like when he’s buried inside me, so fuckin’ deep” she continues to fuck herself with the toy, and he’s tuned back in now, he’s achingly hard without even noticing, his hand wrapping around his cock as he pictures the other side of that fantasy.

It doesn’t take long before he's releasing, spilling all over his hand in tandem with the video. She takes a moment to relax, steadying out her breathing before she speaks to the camera again.

“I think I have a crush guys” she gasps out, “I moved, and I think I’ve got a crush on my fuckin’ neighbor already”

Not that he needed any more confirmation, but those words hit him like a fucking train.

It’s already midnight, it’s not so late that he couldn’t go over there, but it sort of is late enough that he shouldn’t. He really can’t bring himself to care though, getting out of bed and cleaning himself up he decides to ride this uncharacteristically confident wave as far as it’ll take him.

He’s knocking on her door before he’s had a chance to second guess himself. When she answers she’s in a little robe, it’s ivory and satin, and he recognizes it too. He doesn’t say anything, neither does she. They just look at each other for a little too long, eyes taking each other in. He wants to lean in and kiss her, just like in her fantasy, but he’s not that guy.

“Hi” he breathes out instead, “I know it’s late, sorry, I shouldn’t be here—but I— I just wanna say” he pauses to take in a labored breath, “I like you a lot and I think you’re really pretty and funny and smart and would you wanna go out sometime? With me? Maybe?” he doesn't realize he’s closed this eyes until he’s got to pry them back open.

“Well that’s not how the fantasy was supposed to go” she giggles, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him and the blush that’s steadily spreading up his face and neck.

“What do you— I don’t— what?” he’s stammering, doing a god awful job of playing dumb.

“In my video, you were just supposed to kiss me. This isn’t as sexy but it is a hell of a lot better”

“I don’t— I’m not—” he can’t get a sentence out, he’s got no idea what’s happening right now.

“It’s alright Dr. 187, I know it’s you” some part of him genuinely wants to throw up. Why did he think that would be an innocuous username. He was the stupidest genius alive.

“I’m sorry, I should've told you. I had no idea how, I just never thought— how could I have known you’d move in next door to me? And that you’d be even prettier in person but you’d be so cool too” he’s got to cut himself off before he really starts apologetically rambling.

“Spencer stop. It’s fine. I make that content for people to enjoy, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I made that video because I wanted you to see it, that was intentional.” she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, and it’s more comforting than it has any right to be.

“Was that—your fantasy—the uh the video—were you telling the truth?” he can feel his heart absolutely racing in his chest as he waits for the answer. And she breaks out in a huge smile, nodding up at him.

“Every word.” he doesn’t let himself overthink it this time, he just leans right in, pressing his lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle, a sweet kiss rather than a heated one, it’s not just infatuation, there are feelings behind it now. He can feel her lips smiling against his own and his heart’s fit to burst now.

When they break apart she looks giddy with excitement, her hands come down to the little bow that holds her robe closed, toying with the ends of the tie. “I’m actually about to make a video now if you’d like to see behind the scenes?” she asks and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Fuck” he rasps, “You’ve got no idea how much I want to do that” he pauses, scolding himself in his head already, “But I think I wanna take you to dinner first, if you still want that?”

She’s grinning at him again, “I still really want that, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.”

-- --

Comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, I love you all x

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Some Kind of Way (My Hero Academia)

ShinDeku AU

Summary: Shinsou begins to realize he may have feelings for Deku, and it makes him act so out of the ordinary that his crush decides the best way to help him relax is the very thing that kickstarted his feelings in the first place.

A/N: I am so unbelievably excited to finally share this with you! This one has been waiting in the wings for quite a while! Welcome to the first fic in my official ShinDeku AU! This story takes place after the events of "Say Mercy" and creates an entirely new storyline. While these two remain good friends in the Primary Universe, in this AU, things go a little differently.

I will admit this is pretty self-indulgent, but I know I'll want to keep writing for these boys, and what better excuse than to create an alternate reality in which they get together? Cute boyfriends and lots of tickling - what more could you want? I hope you enjoy! <3 <3

Word Count: 2,275

~~~

Midoriya: Video games at my place! Kaminari and Todoroki are coming – do you wanna join??

Shinsou stared at his phone screen for so long it went dark on him three times. He’d nearly forgotten that at some point he and Deku had exchanged numbers. Their spring break had just started; today was Monday, which meant that Deku’s mom was probably at work right now, as it was just after ten in the morning.

It really shouldn’t have been this hard to reply to a text. Yet here he sat, struggling to do just that.

It’s video games, Shinsou berated himself. You’ve played video games with him before. That’s what you were doing the last time you hung out. Just answer his text!

Shinsou: Yes. I don’t know where you live, though.

Midoriya: I’ll send you the details! Can’t wait!! :D

Shinsou set his phone aside, heart racing. This is ridiculous. What’s happening to me? He rubbed his eyes tiredly, his mind flashing back to the last time he’d hung out with Deku. They’d gotten into a tickle fight, which he’d ultimately won, but there had been a…a moment. When he’d pinned Deku for the last time and ordered him to beg for mercy. The way Deku had screamed the word over and over through hysterical fits of laughter…

He swallowed. It had been so satisfying, but more than that, it had been…cute. No, adorable. Completely, utterly adorable. Deku was adorable. And for the first time, Shinsou was noticing.

He tried not to think about it as he gathered up his things and walked out the door, heading to the destination the green-haired boy had provided him with.

*

Seeing him in person was so much worse.

Deku opened up the door with a bright smile and an invitation to come inside. It was the first time Shinsou had seen him without his school uniform or hero costume on. He wore a bright yellow All Might t-shirt and blue shorts, and he was barefoot. Shinsou awkwardly took his own shoes off in the entryway and followed him into the small living room, where Todoroki was already seated on the floor.

The icy-hot hero raised a hand in greeting. Shinsou nodded at him, then took a seat as well.

“Kaminari should be here any minute,” Deku said, pulling out his phone to check for a text from the blonde. “It’s so cool to finally have friends over at my place! Make yourselves at home. We’ve got juice and soda in the fridge if you want some, and later we can have lunch together, too.” Deku smiled so brightly it lit up the whole block. “Plus I’ll get to introduce you to a racing game that’s not Mario Kart for once!”

Shinsou couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He found himself noticing things more and more. The particular shade of green that his eyes were. The spattering of freckles across his face and arms. How scarred his right arm was. How muscular he was despite his smaller stature. Shinsou noticed all of it, and it made his heart beat faster and faster. Crap, crap, crap, he thought frantically. I…I’ve got a—

Someone knocked on the door, Deku hurried to answer it, and the spell was broken. Shinsou blinked several times. Seriously, what was happening to him?

“Heyyy, it’s my man Shinsou!” Kaminari greeted enthusiastically, slapping him on the back. “And Todoroki, of course. Ready to lose some video games?”

Shinsou let out a sigh of relief, then smirked up at him. “The joke’s on you, Kaminari. Midoriya says we’re not playing Mario Kart.”

“Dude, what?” Kaminari whipped around to face Deku. It was so much easier to look at him with Kaminari in the room as well. “You can’t take my crown away like that!”

Deku grinned. “I’m introducing you to a different racing game. Kacchan and I play it sometimes – Team Sonic Racing!”

“Sonic has a racing game?” Kaminari asked, then hummed. “Well, he is a speedy little guy. I guess it makes sense.”

“Team racing?” Todoroki asked. “What does that mean?”

Deku lit up at the question, then launched into a long, rambling explanation of all the ways it differed from Mario Kart, and why it was superior, as well. After a little while they finally got to the actual playing part of it, and before they knew it, the morning hours were long gone.

*

Getting lost in the world of Team Sonic Racing did wonders for Shinsou’s mind. He was able to focus on something that wasn’t Deku, for once – even if Deku’s character of choice did cause him a lot of trouble during the races. It gave him a chance to calm down, clear his head, and get back to his normal self. At least, until a couple of hours later when it was lunchtime.

Kaminari had announced early on that he had lunch plans with some others from their class, so it was expected that he’d leave after a couple of hours. But it was a surprise to both Shinsou and Deku when Todoroki announced he was also leaving.

“My apologies,” he said, “but I got a text from my sister that asked me to meet her downtown for lunch with her and my brother. I’m…trying to get back in touch with them, as it were. I can’t really do that while I’m at the dorms.”

“That’s okay,” Deku said, sounding sincere. “I understand. Go have fun with your family.” Then he turned to Shinsou. “Do you want to stay, or do you have somewhere to be?”

Shinsou’s heart was racing again. He was about to be alone with Midoriya again.

“I…I can stay,” he said, nodding. “If that’s all right with you.”

“Of course!”

After bidding farewell to their other friends, Deku led Shinsou back into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, pulling out various things they could use to make sandwiches. Shinsou got the bread out of the pantry (after struggling for a few moments to even find the pantry), and soon they were both at work making lunch for themselves.

“How’s your spring break so far?” Deku asked.

“It’s…fine,” Shinsou murmured. He didn’t really have anything exciting to report on. “You?”

“Great! I kind of took it easy this weekend because All Might insisted I actually rest, but we trained together this morning before I invited you over for video games. We’ll train again tomorrow, too.”

Shinsou glanced at him. “It’s spring break.”

“I know, but I don’t want to stop training. I’ve got to work as hard as I can to get even stronger.”

“Rest is important, too, you know.”

Deku smiled. “You sound just like everyone else.”

“Because we’re right.”

“I’m resting more than I’m training this week. Don’t worry, Shinsou. I won’t burn myself out.”

Shinsou nodded. “Good.”

“So,” Deku continued, expertly changing the topic as he finished up his sandwich, “want to play some more after lunch? Or we could watch a movie or something instead. What do you want to do?”

“Um…” Shinsou hesitated. Again that image of Deku laughing and begging entered his mind. He shoved it away. “I…I don’t know. Midoriya,” he added quickly, before he lost his nerve, “why do you want to hang out with me so much?”

Deku went silent for a moment. “Because you’re my friend? And you’re really cool! I think it’s so awesome that you want to join the hero course, and your quirk is so useful, especially with that voice changer thing you have now, and—”

“Useful?” Shinsou turned to look at him, surprised. “No one’s ever called my quirk useful before.”

“Then no one’s really known you before,” Deku replied confidently, taking his first bite of his lunch. “Mmm, this is good! What’d you make?”

Shinsou glanced down at his half-finished sandwich and reached for some lunch meat. “To be determined.”

*

When they’d finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Shinsou and Deku went back into the living room, where Team Sonic Racing sat waiting for them on the screen, should they continue to play it.

“Are you okay, Shinsou?” Deku asked, his voice gentler now. “You seem bothered about something.”

Dear god, was he really so easy to read? Shinsou cleared his throat. “No, I’m fine. I’m just…” He searched for the words. How could he explain to Deku that he was pretty sure he had a crush…on Deku? “I’m just…I don’t know. Fine.”

“You know, if you’re not up for video games anymore, we could play a different game,” Deku said. Shinsou glanced up at him, hearing the teasing tone in his voice, and his eyes widened when he saw the green-haired boy wiggling his fingers and smiling wide.

Instant. Blush.

“Uh, I-I mean…I mean, i-if you…want to, then…” Shinsou stammered, hating every word he tripped over. It had never been difficult for him to speak to Midoriya before. Why was it suddenly the hardest thing he’d ever done?

“Actually, maybe we shouldn’t have a tickle fight,” Deku announced even as he lunged for Shinsou and tackled him to the floor. “Maybe I should just tickle you! You really need to relax, Shinsou. You act like I’m about to bite you or something.”

“I d-dohohohohon’t – I cahahahahan’t help it!” he giggled, the light pinches along his sides and ribs enough to help him loosen up a little, but not enough to really make him panic just yet. He fell onto his back on the floor, letting Deku tickle all over his torso, drawing giggle after much-needed giggle out of him.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me,” Deku continued, oblivious to Shinsou’s struggle. “We’re friends! If you want to talk about something, I’m happy to listen.”

Crap, crap, crap! Shinsou brought his hands up to cover his face, growing really, truly flustered now. “I’m sohohohohohohorry, I cahahahahan’t – I cahahahaHAHAHAHAN’T!! NAHAHAHAHAHA!!” The violet-haired boy shot his arms down to try and shove Deku away when he reached his hips, squeezing with a wicked smirk on his face. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO!! MIDORYA!!”

“Relax, Shinsou~” Deku teased, swinging a leg over to straddle his friend and pin him more firmly in place, still squeezing his hips. “Sometimes it’s best to just laugh it all out, right?”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GOD, MIHIHIHIHIDORIYA!! NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!” Shinsou cackled, twisting and writhing on the ground. “YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW IT’S BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD THEHEHEHERE!!”

“Why do you think I’m tickling you there?” Deku laughed, too, finding his hip bones and pressing in deeply. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

“DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!” Shinsou cried, flustered and embarrassed but also having a lot of fun despite himself. He let out a loud shriek and kicked his legs when Deku focused on that one spot that drove him absolutely crazy. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIDORIYAHAHAHAHA!!”

Deku chuckled. “Feeling better? Feeling relaxed yet, Shinsou?”

Shinsou squealed, prying his eyes open just enough to see Deku’s huge smile, his bright eyes, his looming form over him, and the boy from 1-C simply could not take it anymore. “PLEHEHEHEASE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!! MIDORIYA, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! MERCY!! MERCY MERCY MERCYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

Deku stopped, but didn’t climb off of him. Shinsou gasped for breath and looked up at him, still giggling, surprised to see a tiny blush on the boy’s freckled cheeks. He blinked a few times. “M-Midoriya?”

“I…I’m s-sorry, I, uh…” Deku stammered, blinking as well. His cheeks got even pinker. “Oh! I’ll let you go—”

Shinsou reached up faster than either of them could think and grabbed onto Deku’s arms, stopping him from climbing off just yet. He forced himself to make eye contact with the smaller boy, and when he did, what he saw there gave him the encouragement he needed to finally get this off of his chest.

“Midoriya,” he said quietly, “I think I need to tell you something.”

Deku swallowed. He suddenly seemed nervous, too. “Y-Yeah?”

Shinsou’s heart was pounding against his ribcage. “I…I kind of…like you. Like…you know. That way.”

Deku let out a little gasp in response, but he never broke eye contact. His cheeks went from pink to red. “I…I t-think I like you, too, Shinsou…”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Shinsou finally moved to sit up, wrapping an arm around Deku’s back to keep him from falling over as he did so, and when he was upright again the two of them were face-to-face. Shinsou’s eyes flicked all over Deku’s blushing features, from his shining eyes down to his lips and back up again. Then he brought his free hand up to scribble against the smaller boy’s side.

Deku immediately smiled wide, giggling slightly, and Shinsou’s suspicions were confirmed. “Ugh, you’re adorable,” he muttered, pulling him into a bear hug and burying his face in his shoulder. “You know that? Adorable, Midoriya.”

“I-I think you’re cute, too,” Deku stammered, sounding incredibly flustered.

“Only cute?” Shinsou teased, digging his fingertips into the boy’s ribs, feeling him jolt in his arms but holding him tightly all the same. “Wow, and after I just poured my heart out to you.”

“Ahahahahaha nohohohohohoho! I’m sohohohohohorry!” Deku squealed, giggling and squirming but unable to go anywhere or protect himself. He tossed his head back and laughed freely. “You’re adohohohohohorable, too! Plehehehehehease, Shinsou!”

“Too late, Midoriya,” Shinsou replied, grinning into his shoulder, feeling more confident now. He slid one tickling hand down to Deku’s hip and laughed with him when he spasmed so hard they both fell to the floor. “You said I was just cute. Now you’ll have to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Nohohohohohohohoho!” Deku cried, giggling hysterically, but it was obvious to both of them that he didn’t really want any of this to stop, and neither did Shinsou.

So it didn’t.

[fukurodaze]

october

pairing: third year!tsukishima kei x third year!fem!reader genre: fluff, suggestive word count: 2.7k warnings: cursing, mentions of hickeys, makeout session hehe synopsis: “tsukishima” and “high school sweetheart” are a unique combination of words

LISTEN TO: lowkey - niki; used to you - mxmtoon

lowercase intended!

nobody knows about this.

nobody knows about his offhand banter and longing gazes. if you and kei go back exactly five months from today, you’d be asking him a question about the research assignment as you were about to leave the library and he surprisingly follows his answer up with “i’m going home too. come with?”

nobody knows him on facetime, staying late until his eyes can barely open after a blink. you’re used to his texts, somehow so much funnier and warmer than everyone seems to know him. and maybe one day he’d kissed you; on the right temple, as you fell asleep on your bed; on the back of your shoulder, when he did it subconsciously during a movie. and maybe you kissed him too; a short peck on the lips when he went home through your front door; another on his calloused and bandaged hands after a block had left it bruised. 

nobody knows that now, you’re straddling the boy you’ve known for a while as you suck his tongue until he gets breathless. his hands roam up and down your body, finding themselves under your shirt and holding onto the bare skin of your waist like he can never let go. when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, bunching it up your torso, you let him take it off, the moment away from his lips making you realise his lips are swollen and his glasses have been thrown somewhere on your bed. you freeze for a bit when he spends a little too long staring at your body, and you freeze even more when you realise you’re not wearing the bra you would’ve liked for this occasion, but you’re cut off when he starts nipping on your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he mumbles, “you don’t have to suck in your stomach.”

you relax a little, small whimpers coming out of your mouth as he continues to work on your neck, the little shocks of pleasure filling your senses as hands on bare skin start to feel more familiar than foreign. you could get used to this. 

“wait, don’t leave any, uh, marks or hickeys or whatever,” you breathe, “people might see.”

he hums, and yet his grip on you tightens as you think he’s coming back to your lips, but he doesn’t. he just stops there, face inches away as his lips barely ghost yours. he purses his lips for a second, like he’s thinking of something to say, but the microwave makes its strange appearance when it beeps loud enough to make you jump a little in his lap. he still holds you close. 

so, so close. and nobody else knows.

“i’ll get the popcorn.” right, because tonight you had planned to watch a movie with him. like the usual - talk, cuddle, whatever. 

come to think of it, your relationship with kei sounds weird; feelings so well understood without ever being spoken. you liked it at first, when he told you he liked you on a saturday morning, your reciprocated feelings tasting of warm rice and milky eggs and an unspoken convention that this stayed between you two and you two only. but as the days passed, and the thrill of a secret relationship wore off, you’ve started to wonder how it would feel like to be able to show people that, yes, tsukishima kei is your boyfriend, and yes, you like him very much.

when you take your shirt, he says, “wear my hoodie. it’s cold.”

you grin when you hear that, opting to simply wear his hoodie without a shirt underneath. it’s the same black hoodie he wears literally all the time and probably doesn’t wash regularly (which is gross) but if there’s one thing you learned about these feelings is that you couldn’t care less.

when you pick up the popcorn, kei only lays against the headboard of your bed, feeling slightly empty at the words he’d heard from you. serves him right, he thinks as he picks his glasses back up; this relationship, or whatever it is, isn’t something both of you wanted everyone to know. he’d get sick of all the attention, and there was probably no need for the two of you to share everything. it’s high school anyways, who knows how long it’s going to last.

yet, when you come back into his room, lips soft and hair tousled, holding a bowl of fragrant popcorn, kei finds himself letting go of those thoughts.

you take a seat on the floor against your bed frame, already having set up the laptop in the middle of the floor. you motion to the boy on the bed to come down, and he brings your entire duvet with him.

as he settles next to you, your shoulder touching his upper arm, you set the popcorn in the space where your knee meets his thigh, over the blanket. the movie you two had decided on earlier tonight starts playing, and you feel your head slide into the crook of kei’s neck, like it always does. 

the night starts off slow; just the two of you making remarks at the movie, laughing at plot holes and cliches. then, by halfway, the bowl of popcorn is empty; as the protagonist kisses their love interest, you feel a flush up your cheeks; and as the movie ends, kei’s arm is around your waist, pulling you into his side. it’s a pretty shitty movie.

“well, that was a shitty movie.” 

“agreed,” you grunt as you stand up to place the bowl of popcorn on your desk, to be taken out at a later time. you fold your laptop onto your desk as well, and kei gets the cue to sprawl your duvet back onto your bed. it’s only nine pm. you climb back in your bed, motioning for him to come with you, too.

slowly, his tall figure holds yours in an embrace filled with something you could only identify as care and affection. and here, especially with his glasses off, sight blurry and only really being able to see you in full focus, it makes you grin at how strikingly different he can be in your room and at school. not that you had ever seen him at school very often, as most of your relationship was crafted of video calls and secret little dates in the night. 

you wonder if he’ll grow out of this.

“oh my god, something kind of funny happened today after the english exam,” you chuckle, your head resting comfortably on kei’s chest. he lets out a questioning hum.

“the girls in my class thought i was seeing osawa,” you stifle a laugh, “at me they were like, you’re definitely dating a guy from the basketball club.”

“wait, how’d they know you were dating someone?”

“word got out. they asked for details, and i told them he was in a sports club.”

“they didn’t think about the volleyball club?”

you shake your head, “they did, but they literally went - ‘we know it can’t be kageyama or tsukishima, so, yamaguchi?’” kei snickers at those words, remembering that even the boys in the volleyball club don’t know about you.

“i love how they just glossed over the chances of you with either me or kageyama,” kei tsks, “and who’s osawa?”

you roll your eyes, hearing his voice tinted with a bit of jealousy when he hears other people think you’d go better with this random guy at school. “he’s a guy i partnered up with for biology. why?”

“nothing. just good to know.”

“alright, whatever.” you flip over, your chin now pressing on the backs of your hands on his chest. your grin is wide. 

“your hoodie smells like sweat,” kei says, trying to divert the topic away from your eventual accusations of jealousy.

“it’s your hoodie, asshole!” you jokingly exclaim, and he pulls the hood up to your head. you look cute, he thinks, even with his over-worn hoodie and messy hair. it’s in moments like these, when the both of you let go of the fronts you put up at school, and just live like nobody else exists. of course, it will all be over in a few hours, but that’s not to say he doesn’t secretly text you under the desk during class or that you don’t have the liberty of an extra pack of chips in your locker from the early mornings kei has practice.

“okay, but, hoodie aside, you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

you like the sound of it; something so distant yet so close. so you make him repeat it again, “wait, what did you say?”

kei exhales through his mouth, “you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

“would you like a boyfriend badge with that?” you tease.

“shut up. at least it sounds better than you and osawa,” he mumbles, sitting up, leaning on his arms. “not that anyone would ever know about us.”

your arms wrap around your boyfriend’s neck. his eyes stare straight into yours, and though he still feels uneasy at first, he likes the feeling of you so near him, so warm and fluttery in his stomach. it makes you hope, at least, in the way he’s looking at you, that he might want to show you off more than he lets on. 

“you know, kei, it wouldn’t hurt for some people to know about us,” you mutter, almost a whisper, and he catches your words perfectly.

“but i hate how everyone shits on couples all the time.”

“no, you just shit on couples all the time.”

he sighs defeatedly, “okay, but everyone’s just gonna be annoying when they know. like they’re shoving their noses into our business.”

“yeah, but-”

“on top of that, my mom would constantly nag me about the details of our relationship. i don’t need everyone knowing so much about us.”

you fall silent, running out of things to say. admittedly, the way he’s so quick to shut down all your reasons is getting to you.

“see? there’s no point in other people knowing.” kei’s hands run under your hoodie to caress your bare skin. he likes the way you shiver slightly from the sudden coolness of his fingers, but it does give you an idea.

“i’ll let you leave marks under my school blouse.”

“as hot as that is, no.”

you groan, slouching against his larger frame. you shift your weight onto him, making him fall back on the bed, and you settle with lying beside him. kei, like the reluctant cuddle bug you’ve found him out to be, immediately wraps an arm around your torso, like every second spent at your house that doesn’t involve his limbs intertwined with yours is a second wasted. 

you exhale through your mouth, “kei, i just wanted to be proud.”

his grip tightens.

“like, we don’t have to tell everyone what happens between us every single day, but, god damn, i don’t want to keep sneaking you in like this, or having to send you off at like, four in the morning so nobody knows you were here.”

“do you care more about what other people think than how i feel?” now you’re letting it out. you realise you’re frustrated - so fucking frustrated - that you barely even get to see him every week because of school and clubs, and that you don’t even get to save his contact on your phone under his own name in fear that people might find out. all because nobody knows.

“no, i care about-”

“i want to hold your hand in public, kei. is that too much to ask?”

you take a deep breath, sitting up against the headboard, “my friends think i bail on them all the time. i want to tell them it’s because i’m going to see my boyfriend instead of some lame excuse, kei. and i want to cheer you on at the spring high nationals in january, because you talk to me about volleyball so much and i want to see my boyfriend do what he’s been working so hard for.”

there’s a hanging silence in the air, coupled with the whirring of your heater. you can’t make eye contact with him - what if he gets mad? your fingers fiddle with the string of his hoodie, knotting it and untying the knot. and it’s only then that he sees you, gaze unsure and lips pursed, that he knows what to do.

it’s not so bad, kei thinks. he wouldn’t have to save your number under a name that’s not exactly yours, and he wouldn’t have to always rush to leave because he has “something coming up”. he can walk you to class in the mornings when you arrive after his morning practices, and it’s like he can imagine the way he’ll hold your hand and make sure everyone knows you’re with him. his train of thought might have gone a bit too far, but he can’t deny the thought of wanting to show you off as his. hell, he’s had a crush on you since your second year (though he’ll never tell you or anyone), and now that he’s got the girl, he might as well be proud of it, too.

so he comes up and kisses you. chastely. “okay.”

you give him a flick to his shoulder, earning an ‘ow’ from him. “that’s it? okay?”

“you said i could leave marks as long as it’s gonna be covered by your blouse, right?”

another finger flick, to his forehead this time, “you asshole.” but you smile. you know him.

when you pull his lips to yours, this time, he makes sure to keep you busy with his hands around your body and your hands in his hair, shirts and hoodies being pulled up to eventually be taken off. suddenly, he stops, and it’s only then that you hear something that you’ve only barely heard once before, on a warm saturday morning when it was summer, months away from today’s october.

“i really, really like you, y/n. and i’m not afraid of that.”

as he cradles you in his touch, kisses trailing down your jaw and beginning at your collarbone, you make sure to ask if he’s okay with reusing the same uniform he wore today for tomorrow. his answer slips out easily; yes.

“is it always this cold in the mornings when you practice?” you tighten the scarf around your neck, shoving your hands into your coat. kei hums in response as you two near the gym.

“to be fair, you could’ve worn tights. doesn’t help when you’re basically half naked in the winter.”

“wearing a skirt does not mean i’m half-naked, kei.” you scoff, but you do take a mental note to start dressing warmer for the coming seasons. 

“i’m just saying, the wind can just go up your skirt-”

his sentence is cut short when a louder, higher-pitched voice runs through.

“woah! tsukishima’s with a girl?” you recognise it as one of the kids in class 3-2, hinata shoyo. his orange hair isn’t exactly easy to miss. behind him is the boy you recognise as kageyama tobio, remembering the way kei would sometimes slip in a snarky mention of his name on the nights he’d call you from his training camp in tokyo. you introduce yourself to the two boys.

“why is that such a surprise to you?” kei points out sharply. a number of second and first years pass by the three of you, and they exchange casual good mornings.

“i think i’ve seen you around. are you friends with kana-san?” hinata names one of the girls in your class, and you nod, telling him you’re pretty close to her. 

"are you going to be watching us practice?” hinata asks, and as you look frantically between kei and hinata, you tell him, “yeah, is that okay for you guys?” kageyama and hinata nod.

you don’t miss it when kei takes your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. it makes you feel a little warmer in chilly weather. it makes you smile.

“go ask team captain over there,” kei shrugs, cocking his head at yamaguchi, who currently has a content smile on his face.

“so this is your girlfriend!” 

you immediately snap your head at kei, as if silently telling him no fair, how come yamaguchi knew all along?! kei shrugs, “he saw me going to your locker one day.”

you roll your eyes before introducing yourself the same way you did to hinata and kageyama, and you hear kageyama huff out, “she looks too nice for you.”

kei scoffs, “well, that’s rich coming from you. maybe you’re forgetting how-”

“alright, tsukki, let’s just go up to the clubroom first.” yamaguchi thankfully cuts in, letting hinata and kageyama go to the gym first.

“oh, y/n-san, you can go to the gym first, too, since we’re going to be changing in the clubroom. we don’t want you to wait outside, after all.” yamaguchi adds, and as you let go of kei’s hand with a reassuring smile, hinata takes it upon himself to make even more conversation with you on the way to the gym. you find his and kageyama’s company entertaining.

“if he’s you’re boyfriend, does he, like, insult you all the time?” kageyama blurts out, his words making you break into smiles.

you giggle, swatting your hands, saying no, no. it makes you realise how different he really is when he isn’t with you.

your hand wanders to the uniform bow around your collar, and you play with the ends of it, the area of your body reminding you of the hickeys you saw littered around your chest and collarbone this morning. when you told kei about it, he only shrugged with the most smug face you’ve ever seen. thank god for collared uniforms.

“so, y/n-san, how’s tsukishima as a boyfriend?” hinata chimes in.

you catch your lip in between your teeth, sucking in a soft inhale. you wonder if you could tell them that he’s the guy that buys you your favourite snacks on the way back from volleyball practice, or that he puts all your favourite songs into his daily playlist so that he can sing along with you when he comes over. still, even after the news about your relationship, you think there’s no harm in keeping some things private. so you exhale.

“he’s an asshole,” you laugh, gleeful, “such an asshole.”

[waywardsummoner46]

(Un)Pleasantville

A/N: Second one shot, yay! Definitely toying with expanding this as well as my Lucifer!Sam and Michael!Dean fic. I’m open to requests and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (never had one before, oo this is exciting). As ever enjoy the fic and let me know what you think!

Word count ~ 1620

______________________________________________________________

Alright so, not to sugar coat anything but this was an absolute nightmare.

  You, Sam and Castiel had gotten word of a hunt - well more Sam but that’s besides the point - and had left yesterday. You’d paused at a gas station outside of a place called Charming Acres but the dude at the counter said something was off about the place… so naturally (or supernaturally) you all went to check it out. And a dude’s head just completely blew up out of the blue after he came in for his phone?

  Pulling into the town itself, now that was something. You felt as though you’d walked into a 1950s sitcom about some cheesy, lovesick marriage story. Something that you’d like to stay well away from. Consequently, you met a cheesy, lovesick couple called Justin and Cindy Smith who said they’d heard absolute zilch about any deaths and “this is a very close-knit community, nothing goes on here without everyone knowing” blah blah blah.

  Anyway, the strangest thing for you wasn’t the clothes, nor was it the 1950s behaviour, no, it was the fact Justin didn’t seem to recognise what a phone was. You silently ogled at him but he paid no attention to you. So now you definitely thought something was off about this place. 

  After that fateful encounter, you all stumbled upon the local diner “Harrington’s” who was run by the Mayor Chip Harrington and his daughter Sunny. You thought Sunny was a very sweet young woman who honestly looked like someone you’d get along with, however you noticed her head perked up once conversation about Conrad (watermelon head guy) started. Castiel so delicately stated, “Oh no! His head exploded” rendering everyone in the diner speechless.

  The Mayor stuttered for a moment then questioned “Excuse me?”

  “Like a ripe melon in the sun.”

  Whilst this confrontation was happening, Sunny gave you and Sam milkshakes, as Cas had refused earlier, so you were busy trying not to spit it out as you found that conversation hilarious. Chippy boy gave you the information where Conrad was last seen and then you all took off but not before Sam abruptly said “Alright, you know what? We’re leaving, bye.” And that was that.

  When you’d all arrived at the boarding house, a too cheerful Ms. Dowling greeted you at the door, and creepily said she knew you were coming because it’s a small town and things travel fast. Honestly, what is it with these people? From there, and after a brief explanation on why you all were there, she showed you to Conrad’s room and said he moved in a few weeks ago.

  Being your observant self, you came to the conclusion that the bed had been barely used but there were passionate and just plain disgusting letters under the mattress addressed from Sunny (so maybe she wasn’t so innocent, neither were you).

   At the same time Sam suggested you all stay overnight and divulge and investigate more thoroughly in the morning and yet his almost desperate tone of voice put you on edge. Obviously, you were all tired and weary but Sam was just on a whole new level of “oh this is amazing, we should stay here because it’s so cool”. So reluctantly, you and Cas agreed but not before exchanging an uncertain glance with each other, the intuition of a teenager and an angel right?

  Sam and you were sharing a room since Cas had insisted on his own, and instantly something changed with how he addressed you. “(Y/N), please take your shoes off, you’ll ruin this lovely carpet,” and “(Y/N), sweetheart, don’t you think wearing something a little more lady-like would be more appropriate, hm?” 

 All you could do what was sit and stare because not once had Sam ever been this pedantic or pathetic and he certainly had never called you “sweetheart”, so too baffled to engage in intelligent conversation, you went to bed just after Sam as you were too busy burning incredulous holes into the back if his hairy head. Struggling to grasp sleep, you softly whispered a “What the fuck?” and thank god Sam didn’t hear you because you would’ve absolutely hated the outcome.

  The next morning you were woken up quite rudely by an angel banging on your door. Blearily you struggled out of bed and opened the door, rubbing your eyes. “What time is it?” You said.

 “Time to get up, get dressed and Sam-Sam?”

 Noting Castiel’s confusion, you turned quickly in what was once Sam’s direction only to find your lovable older brother had disappeared to Chuck knows where. Great, man hunt at ridiculous o’clock in the morning. Cas immediately raced down to the stairs to seemingly find Ms. Dowling leaving you rushing to change into something more appropriate that pyjamas.

 Descending the stairs you notice the front door open and a frantic looking Castiel waiting in the Impala, waving for you to get in. Shouting a quick “thank you!” to Ms. Dowling, you sprant for the car and sat in Sam’s seat.

 Castiel started the car and you asked “So? We know where he went?” 

  “I’ve been told he left this morning saying he was going on a walk to the diner and wanted a milkshake, but only after screaming at Ms. Dowling who had her eardrums blocked with ear plugs,” he said. You nodded, absorbing the information and pondered why Sam would just up and leave for a milkshake.

  “Cas, you don’t think that there’s something wrong with the milkshake? Or like, this town in general? Because I do and Sam was being a real overbearing douchebag after you left yesterday and acting completely out of character.”

 He didn’t hesitate to nod his head, “I must admit, the strange customs have piqued my interest and Sam did drink quite a lot of that milkshake yesterday so it might be a possibility that there is a supernatural force going on here.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but you’d turned a corner and arrived just before the diner. Castiel left the car and went to inspect whilst you decided a smart move would be to ring Sam’s phone… only to find it ringing in the back of the car. Typical frustrating Winchester. 

  Placing your hands on your head, you massaged your temples and tried to think of any reasonable explanation as to what on earth was going on. 

 You heard the driver’s door being opened and looked over to see Castiel already turning the keys in the ignition. “He’s gone to Mr and Mrs. Smith's house,” was the only explanation you received.

  Suddenly determined, you nodded and said, “Alright, we’re getting somewhere, onward!” So, the car started and picked up speed, as you made your way to the Smith’s house you took a chance to observe the area a bit more.

  It was definitely something outdated and old-fashioned but the people did look happy, even if the shops were called something despicable like “The Rainbow Restaurant". It was very bright and colourful and you didn’t doubt that even if a thunderstorm hit, these people would still be acting on top of the world.

  Upon finally reaching your destination, you took notice of the white-picket fence and the massive garden. The house was huge and definitely unnecessary for only two people. Regardless, you and Cas sauntered up to the door and knocked three times respectively. On the third Cindy opened the door with a clear smile on her face and a very pleasant scent of lavender perfume. “Hello, can I help you?”

 You and Cas glanced at each other before he answered, “First of all, I’d like to offer my condolences for your husband's death but we really need to know-”

  He was cut off by a very confused Cindy Smith who said, “My husband? Honey, I think you might be mistaken. My darling husband is in the kitchen, fetching his newspaper. Justin, dear, come say hello!” 

 Again, Cas looked like he wanted to continue but a very familiar, moose-like voice interrupted “Coming darling! Won’t take two slices  of a carrot cake!” It was, unmistakably, Sam.  You gaped and stared questioningly at Cas in silent question. He merely returned your look.

  Moments later, Sam appeared in the doorway. Wearing a pair of glasses. A ponytail. And a fucking cardigan. A cardigan, because why the hell not? He wrapped his hands around Cindy’s waist and looked at us in confusion. Or sorry, at Cas in confusion, but when his gaze landed on you his face went more stern. 

 “Young lady, do you not remember what I said about un lady-like clothing? Because those denim jeans and that ridiculous jumper are hardly suitable for my daughter, little miss. I suggest you get in this house right now and put on that lovely dress your mother bought you,” he basically seethed.

  Now you were definitely the equivalent of a fish, with your wide mouth and wide eyes. You managed to compose yourself a bit before stuttering “Sam?”

 His eye twitched and there was no warning before he grabbed your arm and pulled you in the house then promptly dragged you into the sitting area. He guided you to the sofa on the left of the fireplace and very softly explained, “My sweet honey, I know that this is hard for you, but your mother and I want what’s best for you. Now, be a good girl and wait here until your mother and I have finished our pleasant conversation with our new neighbour, hm?” Then he planted a kiss on your forehead and returned to Cindy’s side to continue conversing with Cas.

  All you could think was: what the fuck?

[shutupanddance]

Bones / Reader — Remember Me

Hey my fellow fan fiction people, I have MAJOR writer’s block, and I really want to get these requests done, so I’m hoping that this will snap me out of it.

Warning: this is angst!!

How would Bones react to your death?

Normal text is present time, and blocks of italic text are memories!

Enjoy ;)

Dr. Leonard McCoy is experiencing a “slow day” in medbay. Not that there isn’t the occasional ensign coming in with a scrape or broken bone, but it’s nothing like when the away missions come back.

Speaking of away missions, you were on one now. You weren’t scheduled to come back for a week, though. You were a microbiologist, so your missions were usually much longer, and consisted of more time going back and forth between your lab on the Enterprise and the planet you were stationed on. 

The personnel staff realized pretty quickly that very little got done when you and McCoy were on a mission together. The doctor was so worried for his fiancé that he spent more time making sure you were safe than doing his job. So, it was a rare thing nowadays that you’d be put on a mission together.

Spock is suddenly in medbay.

“What are you doing here?” Leonard grumbles, glancing over his shoulder.

When Spock doesn’t respond immediately, he turns. Something is wrong, Leonard can tell. But whether Spock has a common cold or the ship is about to explode, he can’t tell.

“Captain Kirk requires your assistance on the bridge.” Spock states coolly. Odd.

“Are you sure? Can’t he just ask me through a holopad like everyone else-”

“Please come with me, doctor.”

Doctor McCoy follows, but he grumbles the whole way.

As soon as he’s in the elevator, another team rushes into medbay. They’re surrounding a gurney. And attached to that gurney is a heart monitor, which is beeping slow. Dangerously slow.

You’re not really sure why you got picked for the Enterprise. I mean, it’s Starfleet’s flagship, for crying out loud! But here you are, working away in one of the most advanced labs you’ve ever seen, floating many many miles from home.

You’re still processing all this when a beaker slips out of your hands, and shatters violently on the floor.

Luckily, no one else is in your lab right now. You stay calm, walking on careful feet, and retrieve a broom. As you’re sweeping, though, you realize blood is running down your fingers.

One of the shards of glass must have flown up and cut me, you realize.

You carefully wrap the small wound and apply pressure, then begin walking to medbay. 

The nurses don’t immediately notice you, probably because you’re just standing there looking like you’re out for an evening stroll, but soon enough one happens to glance directly at the gauze you have wrapped around your forearm.

“Oh, dear!” She says, guiding you to a bed. “Dr! Dr. McCoy!”

Out from a nearby office walks Dr. Leonard McCoy. He’s got dark hair, the most alert eyes you’ve ever seen, and damn he’s hot.

“What happened to you?” He grunts.

“Beaker broke. Shard of glass flew up and cut me. No other injuries, and there’s no glass in the wound. I was able to stop most of the bleeding, but I think I’ll need stitches.”

An eyebrow goes up.

“Alright, why don’t you sit down and I’ll take a look.”

You didn’t know it, but in that moment, Leonard McCoy nearly fell head over heels for you. And all he showed for it was a raised eyebrow.

The Captain will not stop insisting that he needs a plan for contagious diseases on the Enterprise.

“We already have one,” Leonard reminds him.

“But will it work? Do we have one for different situations? For instance, if we’re docked on a hostile planet-”

“Are you trying to keep me from my job!?” Leonard asks, more as a pointed jab, but when the room grows uncomfortably silent, he realizes he’s right on the money.

What else does he realize? That every face in the room looks forlorn. And a bit defeated.

“What’s got everyone so depressed?” He asks, swiveling to see the entire bridge crew. No one answers.

Finally, Spock clears his throat.

“We wanted to keep you away from medbay while the doctor’s worked on Y/N.”

There’s a moment, a brief moment, where Leonard’s brain stops working. And he’s paralyzed with fear. But, it doesn’t last for long.

“WHAT!?!”

Jim steps in.

“She was injured on the away mission. Some animal we’ve never seen before came out of nowhere and attacked.”

Bones is trying to get away.

“She saved everyone else’s lives by luring the beast away, doc,” one of the crew is saying, but he doesn’t care. He needs to get to you-

The door to the bridge rolls open. M’Benga is standing there.

And Leonard has never seen the man look so guilty, so distressed, so sad.

“Watch the Coreolis Anjankus!” You say, pulling a red shirt away from a very poisonous plant. You pass him to Dr. McCoy, who pushes him even farther away.

“I thought you were a microbiologist?” He chuckles.

“With a minor in botany!” You smile.

You were one of the few scientists Leonard found to be cool under pressure, and the only one with real common sense. Still, despite all you knew about the dangers of every planet, you were always completely relaxed. If he was being honest, the doctor envied you (just a little bit).

“Tell, me, how did you get stuck with this motley crew?” He asks, eyes trained on the Captain, watching for any dangers.

“I’m not really sure,” you admit. “They just sent me a message one day asking if I wanted to join.”

“And you said yes.”

“Of course I did! Have you seen the labs on the ship?!”

Leonard laughs.

“I’m a nerd, I know, but this assignment is everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

Dr. McCoy finds himself staring at you, suddenly. He doesn’t really remember how he got here. All he can think of is the fact that your heart’s not beating. That your body is mangled and bloody and despite M’Benga attempting to close the wounds, you look horrible.

It seems ironic, almost, in that instant. The woman who never worried about anything is lying mauled in a biobed. Dead.

The medical idea of death has settled in Leonard’s mind. No beating heart, no brain activity. But what he can’t wrap his head around is you being gone. You’ve  always been there. And, for a moment, he’s convinced that if he sniffles too loud, you’ll hand him a tissue. If he mentions he’s hungry, you’ll wake back up, dig through your duffel bag, and pull some food out.

But you’re not moving.

“Where’s her duffel bag?” He asks, voice as loud and cranky as ever.

Kirk hands your bag over.

Bones reaches in, and digs around until he feels something soft. A teddy bear. He places it on your chest, and lifts your arms to hug it. The soft fur stains with blood.

It’s a horrific scene, the one in front of them.

A village destroyed by a massive storm system. Houses leveled, fields of crops uprooted, and hundreds of people injured or dying or dead.

But you’re standing there, cool and calm as ever, handing out blankets. You smile gently at each villager who steps up, and ask them in one of their native languages what else they need. You direct them to different crew members who can help.

One kid walks up, so young you have to crouch to be eye-level with them. He’s alone. And he looks so terrified, so empty, that you immediately wrap him in a hug. He clings on for dear life.

When he finally let’s go, you begin to explain to him that he needs to see the doctor. He shakes his head so hard you’re afraid his neck will snap. You say some more words in his language, and reach into your duffel bag.

You pull out a teddy bear. The boy smiles, ever so slightly, and immediately gives it a tight hug.

You speak encouragement at him, something about bravery, and the little boy makes his way over to the medical tent with his head held high.

All this Leonard watches. You look at him. He looks at you. And for a while, an unspoken respect passes between the two of you.

He asks you later why you had the teddy bear.

“I always have one on me,” you smile sadly. “You never know when you might need one.”

The ship docks at Command, and the usual celebratory revelries aren’t being heard. The crew is somber.

Your body, encased in a beautiful casket, is loaded onto a small carrier vehicle. Jim, Leonard, and Spock follow it as it weaves its way through the halls.

Your parents are there, and the funeral is quick. No one can really find the strength to say what they want to. No one can choke through their tears long enough to tell your story.

Bones is the last to leave. He watches your casket for hours, almost as if he’s waiting for you to spring out and laugh and kiss him, promising it’ll never happen again, promising you’ll never leave him…

He smiles. A memory-

The town of traders on this new small planet offered the Enterprise crew a place to stay overnight, and Kirk had agreed.

Their houses stood on stilts overlooking an ocean, and there were beautiful torches that burnt blue everywhere to light the paths. Bird-like creatures swooped through the town, twittering and squeaking.

You’re watching them silently through a window, a soft smile on your face. Leonard is sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your shoulder.

Two of the bird things get into a fight, and screeching is heard. Feathers fly.

You laugh, loud and unapologetic, as they tussle. Leonard laughs too. He’s smiling at you as you watch them, so completely wrapped up in how beautiful you are.

You fall back onto the bed, hair flying everywhere. You’re still giggling.

You look at your fiancé, enjoying watching him watch you. You feel comfortable. The house is warm and the blue firelight traces his face. The face of your love.

Leonard is wondering how on earth he landed you. How he convinced you to love him. But he truly has no idea. You’re lying there, eyes locked with his, gazing with so much love he feels he’s going to burst.

You lying there like that, hair spread out on the bed, a lazy smile on your face, eyes sparkling with the reflection of torches… he locks that picture in his mind.

And Leonard thinks that he’ll always remember you this way.

[verse50]

Heat

It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.

I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.

“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.

“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.

His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths. 

He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.

 But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.

The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.

“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”

“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.

“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”

After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby  lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.

You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...

Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.

“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.

“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”

I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”

“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.

“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.

“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”

Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”

“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”

My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”

“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”

I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.

“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”

“What?”

“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”

Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.

“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.

“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”

I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”

Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”

“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”

I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.

“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.

I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.

Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.

Linktree

[bokettochild]

If you’re still taking requests maybe Legend showing off his outfits from Triforce Heroes (if you consider that one of his games) or just the fierce deity outfit if that’s to much

Good grief! This one really took it away! I liked the prompt so much, and had so many ideas for it, that I think this might have to be a multi-parter (wasn't expecting that).

I touched on three outfits in this one, but I have six more I might do as well. For reference, I included the Kolkiri Clothes, Linebeck's Uniform and the Cozy Parka.

I also realized while writing this that this is the first time I've written from Wind's perspective, which is positively criminal!

I am still taking requests by the way! If you want to see something, shoot it at me!

(Fic below the cut)

It started so normal, Wind never thought it would get so insane.

They were in the Old Man’s Hyrule, too far from the ranch to make it by nightfall but close enough to still be in a relatively safe location. Time had called for them to set up camp and as they were close to a stream, Twilight had called for the additional order of baths.

Watching Twilight drag his protégé into the water was almost worth having to have his head scrubbed by Sky.

Most of them had taken the chance to cool off and mess around once they were clean, and while Warriors attempted to duck Time under the water (a mistake, they soon realized, when the man easily overpowered the captain, who ended up getting dunked instead) and Wild sat in a tree watching their backs (hanging up to dry, Twilight had joked), Wind found that the rest of them were content to swim idly in the water, with only the occasional splash from one or another of them. Usually, there would be more noise, but Twilight was teaching Hyrule to doggie paddle, and they needed calmer waters so as to not scare the Traveler.

He cast his eyes over their group. A red-faced Warriors was coughing and spluttering out insults at a smug looking Time (boy he needed his picto-box), Twilight was gently coaxing Hyrule to the other bank in a manner highly resemblant of a parent urging a baby to walk, Wild was keeping watch, and Sky was relaxing in the shallows.

Where were Four and Legend?

A glance upwards and a signed conversation with Wild later and Wind was making his way upstream a way, around a bend that blocked off most of the noise but that Wild could still see over if needed, to where Four and Legend sat together one the bank.

Or rather, Legend sat, Four was floating in the shallows with a curious expression as he watched the vet- cleaning clothes?

“We’re out here having a good time and you’re doing the laundry? Boring much.” He drawled, drawing the attention of the two heroes.

“I don’t like swimming around others.” Legend scrunched up his nose in disgust, it wiggled, almost cutely. “And my things needed a wash.”

He snorted, turning his questioning gaze to Four.

The smithy shrugged. “It’s quieter over here, and Wars will try and dunk me if he gets the chance.” A heavy sigh escaped the shortest hero. “He really needs to be taken down a notch some days.”

“Some days?” Legend snorted.

Wind just rolled his eyes. So, what if Wars had a bit of an ego and spent a lot of time messing with them? It was just the way the captain expressed himself, Wind would do the same if he could get away with it and had a few inches on the others.

A flash of color in the spring caught his attention, bright pink against the soft blue of the water, and he surged forwards. “What’s that?”

Legend’s hand hit his face as the vet reached out to push him back, effectively pushing the excited child under water, and for a brief moment, Wind could swear he saw a pink skirt drifting just before his face before it disappeared and he was popping up out of the water again with a splash.

“You have pink clothes?” He grinned at the bundle of fabric in the Vet’s hands.

“I have clothes in all colors.” Legend sniffed, batting another piece of fabric at him in a shooing motion.

“Doubt.” Four and Wind deadpanned. “Nobody has that much clothing.”

Legend’s face was drawn, eyes dark with that haunted look that Time sometimes got when looking at the moon. “I do.”

Wind and Four exchanged a look. “Why would you even need so much clothing?”

“Adventure number six.” Legend sighed, returning to his washing.

Another shared glance was exchanged and the two boys swam closer to the older teen. “And you used all of it?” Legend nodded. “All by yourself?”

The vet paused. “I had some...friends, with me.”

“You have friends?” Wind sat up again, who knew the Vet actually got along with people other than Ravio and Zelda?

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, Wind, that’s kinda mean.” Four murmured.

“I don’t mean you don’t have friends,” He huffed bangs from his eyes to look at Legend better, it did nothing, they still drifted into his view and cut off his view of the top of Legend’s hat. “I mean, we’ve never seen them so I didn’t realize you were on good terms with more people than Ravio.”

Legend shrugged. “You probably won’t ever meet them, I... became acquainted with them outside of Hyrule and they’ve never been seen leaving the land where we traveled together.”

“What were their names?” Four asked lazily, eyes trailing after leaves that floated off downstream towards where the others were.

Legend’s snort caught them off guard. “You don’t want to know.”

Now that was interesting, Legend never shied away from giving names to the people he had met in his travels, what was so different about these people? He’d had nothing against telling them Ravio’s name. “Why not?” Curiosity was tickling at his just like his hair was, and it was the only thing keeping him from ducking under again to relieve the itching of slowly-drying hair.

Legend cocked a brow at the two of them. “Their names are worse than ours.”

Now Wind really wanted to know! “What were they?”

Four echoed his question, eyes glinting in the light as he stared over at the vet, who was now beginning to pack away his things again. It took some nagging (something Wind had plenty of experience with) to finally get Legend to answer, but when he did, he didn’t disappoint.

“Red, Blue and Green. A set of nut cases if you ask me.” Legend drawled, not looking at them as he stuffed something glittery and gold in his bag. Four froze, eyes flashing four colors, one after another for a moment before he turned his sharp gaze on the vet.

“Did they call you Vio by any chance?”

Wind stared. “Why would they do that? He already has a name, he wouldn’t need to match, besides, Legend doesn���t even wear purple.”

“His eyes are purple.” Four pointed out, and Wind turned to very pointedly try and see what color Legend’s eyes actually were.

They were purple.

“No, they didn’t call me Vio,” Legend rolled his eyes, pushing Wind out of his face again. “They call me Link, same as any sane person does.”

“We’re sane.” Wind protested.

“Debatable.” The two older heroes deadpanned.

Wind pouted, but let it go, gaze drifting for a moment as he let silence fall over them. Four was staring at Legend in a suspicious manner, eyes blue again, but he didn’t say anything, and the vet didn’t seem keen on saying anything either, instead getting up and walking over to the clothes he had draped across one of the trees. He wasn’t kidding, it looked like a rainbow over there.

“So, if those things belonged to your friends, why do you have them?”

“Only one with a bottomless bag.” Came the clipped reply. “That and I’m the only one who’s likely to need them again.”

“Your friends don’t need clothes?” Four balked.

“No! Of course, they do!” Legend made a face, swatting a hand at Four. “Wild’s the only one who goes around naked, I’ll have you know, and if any of them had done the same they would have been shunned by the whole kingdom.” The vet huffed, voice dropping to a mutter. “What with the fashion laws and all.”

“So, if they already have clothes of their own, what did you need all for this for?” He gestured towards the various garments that Legend was still packing away.

“They’re all enchanted, or otherwise intended for special purposes.” The vet winced. “Hopefully I’ll never need most of them again, but there’s always the chance.”

“Will we ever get to see them?” He watched as Legend stuffed another garment into one of his bags many pockets.

“Hopefully never.” Legend spat.

But when did things ever go Legend’s way?

It was a hat first.

A battle in the forest ended with black blood spattered everywhere, but with Legend and Wild having provided support from the sidelines in the form of arrows flying across the battlefield, injuries were more scarce than normal.

Of course, that could be attributed to the fact that there had only been a few of the black-blooded monsters in the camp they had just destroyed.

As most of them had gathered their weapons and wiped away the blood, Wild had come leaping down from the treetops with Legend following after at a more sedate pace. Wind wondered if that was because of the Vet’s arthritis is because of the huge hat on his head.

“Nice accessories, do some shopping while we were down here fighting?” Wars snarked, huffing a laugh at the vet as Legend’s feet touched the earth again.

Indigo blue snapped at the captain as Legend adjusted the pointed cap. “No time for that when I have you all to keep an eye on.”

Twilight sniggered. “What’s with the hat, Ledge?”

“Yeah!” Wind bounded up to the older hero, eyes wide as he looked at the strange accessory. “Where did you get that?”

“Is that one of the things you got on your last adventure?” Four mused, sparking further excitement in the sailor, if it was, than maybe Legend would actually be willing to tell them more about it!

“Yeah, is it?”

No one addressed the confused stares of the taller heroes as their three shortest members conversed.

“Yeah,” Legend lifted the hat off and brushed at its brim in a clearly fond display; if he even attempted to say anything about hating his adventure again Wind was not going to believe him, not after that smile. “A Kolkiri hat, made to aid archers and help them shoot more arrows. I don’t usually use it, but it helps when you need to take out more than one enemy at once.”

“You could just learn to shoot better.” Wild chuckled, plucking at the hats brim only to have the garment whisked out of reach by a glaring veteran.

“I can shoot well; this just helps me see better because it blocks the freaking sun.”

“Kolkiri you say?” Time mused, stepping forwards to peer at the pointed green cap.

“Sure, you didn’t just steal it off of a witch?” Wars teased.

“No witch could replicate this sort of quality,” And if there wasn’t pride in his voice than Wind would eat his boots. “Not even the finest tailors in all of Hytopia could imitate it, and they’ve tried.” Legend spun the hat in his hands before popping it back on top of his head. “Don’t know the tailor, but what I wouldn’t give to learn their tricks. Kolkiri know what they’re doing, and they do it better than most Hylian craftsmen.”

Time was smirking, and Wind really wanted to know why. “You should see the tunics they can make.”

Legend returned the smirk. “Oh, I have, I own one.”

“As do I,” Their resident old man chuckles. “Although I doubt I could fit in it any longer.”

Wind giggles, trying to imagine Time in the clothes he’s seen on the spirits of the kolkiri, it’s hard, what with how big their leader is.

“Hat might fit you though.” And as the words ring through the air, Legend is already reaching up to pull the brim of his pointed hat over Time’s face. Their leader chuckles, brushing Legend off and adjusting the hat to sit more securely on his head.

Somehow, Time looks more comfortable in the hat than he does in his armor, and even though the two clash terribly, he doesn’t seem to mind, a light smile gracing his features as they set off again.

It’s a few days before Legend brings out another item from his collection of clothes, and when he does, it’s only after the others have drifted off to sleep. Wind would have been sleeping too, but you can only stay awake so long when your mind replays the horrors of the past, and Wind can only watch in silence for so long as giant ocean-monsters attempt to destroy those he loves the most. Tetra’s scream echoes in his own cracking voice as he startles awake.

The stars shine brightly overhead, brighter still as they blur from his tears. Despite what the others might say, or the confident way he tries to convey himself, Bellum frightens him, even now, and everything he had to deal with on that adventure... it weighs heavy on his mind.

A strangles sob escapes him as he sits up to bury his head in his knees, arms wrapped tight around his legs as he tries to shake of the after-effects of the dream.

That’s all it was, after all, just a dream.

Just like the Ocean King, like Lineback, like everything else in that world had been.

It’s just a dream.

“Hey,” Legend’s voice is soft and almost lost in his sobs and the crackling of the fire, but Wind is used to listening for even the softest of sounds in the night; be it due to Aryl having a night-terror –her own dreams aren’t free from their adventure- or someone sneaking around to make trouble. “Sailor, you all good?”

It’s clear he’s not, and he knows that, so Legend really has no business asking, but at the very least he isn’t being told to stop being a baby. “’m okay.” His own voice betrays him and Wind wants to sigh in irritation. Usually, he’d pout and groan at the way his voice cracks, but right now he doesn’t have the emotional or mental strength to do anything about it.

There’s shifting from across the camp, and even though his head is still pressed against his raised knees, he sees a flicker of golden pink in the firelight as Legend crouches down before him.

Thank Hylia the vet doesn’t sit back on his ankles, Wind doesn’t want to know if he’s not wearing shorts under that skirt of his.

“None of that now, what’s eating you?” It’s a weird term, especially coming from Legend, who’s usually so clipped and professional in his speech, and Wind can’t help but huff out a short laugh.

“Nothing,” His hand dashes across his eyes, wiping the tears away, only to have more of them prick at the corners. “Go back to watch, I’m fine.”

“And Twilight is a dog person.” Legend drawls. “Look, if you have an emotional moment or whatever, you’ll be tired as shit when we have to leave in the morning. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel keen on dealing with another Sky.” It’s rough and gruff, but in a way that reminds him of Lineback rather than make him upset.

“I’m fine, just...” He dwells on his next words for a moment. He’s not scared, not really. It’s just the aftershock of a too-real dream about another too-real dream. He’s not really sad either, even if the island is gone now, he’s just... “I’m drained.” He whispers, scrubbing his eyes. “I miss everything back at home but,” He pauses, wondering briefly if Legend could even understand what he’s trying to express. “I guess I miss the things that aren’t there too.”

“Like what?” He doesn’t look up, but he knows the exact expression on Legend’s face; brow raised and mouth pulled into a thoughtful frown.

“Places... people. It’s all just dreams but..” He fiddles with the end of his blanket. “I miss the warmth of them I guess, miss the sea and the islands, even the fake ones, they were so... comforting.” He chuckles, surprising himself with the bitterness that tinges his own voice. “Even if I did spend so much of that time trying not to get killed.”

“Warmth, huh?” Legend hums. There’s a brief pause, one Wind almost takes for Legend rolling his eyes and deciding to leave him to his thoughts, but then there’s a brief rustling and something warm and thick settles over his shoulders as Legend sits at his side. “It’s no pirate uniform, but it still smells like the sea, if that helps at all.”

Wind wants to tease Legend for the sentimentality and love in the action, but when he turns to look at the Vet, his gaze falls instead on the royal blue coat that has been draped around his shoulders.

Too-long sleeves fall to fold at his waist while the rest of the long coat trails and puddles around him, rich, warm fabric blocking out the night chill. It’s a lovely coat, but it’s painfully familiar, and Wind finds himself running his fingers over the stitching and inspecting every detail with a precision that he only ever shows to his swordsmanship and sailing.

His eyes don’t fool him either, the coat is an exact copy of Lineback’s own.

“Where... where did you get this?”

“Like it?” The vet chuckles softly. “Hytopian tailors. It’s a sea-coat, made to aid traveling sailor’s in searching for treasure. Don't ask me how it works though,” A ringed hand waves lazily overhead. “I could never make sense of it all. What matters is that it’s warm, not even the ocean can chill you in that thing, and trust me,” Buck teeth and small canines shouldn’t look so chilling, but Legend’s smile is just that. “It’s tried.”

Wind decides not to push it. There’s no way Legend could know about Lineback, not with the gaps of time and timelines between them. So, instead, he nestles down into the coat, one which bears the promised scent of the sea, with just a hint of smoke and rum to it, and lets his mind drift off again while Legend hums something under his breath.

The vet doesn’t realize he’s humming any less than he realizes Wind is slumping into him, but by the time he does recognize it, Wind is out cold, his head pressed against Legend’s shoulder, the coat still draped over him as he snores softly. Legend doesn’t push down the warmth in his chest as he smiles down at the golden curls, no one will see him anyway. Gnarled fingers decked out with countless rings card through sun-bleached curls as a lilting melody pierces the silence around them, no one will hear it anyway.

In the days to come, Legend allows Wind to don the heavy sea-coat from that night. Warriors makes a comment about poor coordination between fabrics, and while Legend doesn’t seem to disagree, both of the older heroes seem of the opinion that it's for the best he holds onto it, what with the cold and all.

The last switch landed them in the mountains, and while the Hyrule they are in has not yet been confirmed, everyone knows one thing for sure: it’s cold. Wind buries his face in the raised collar of the heavy sea-coat, which, despite being in Legend’s bag for so long and the vet refusing to smoke or sail, much less swig rum, the coat smells of all three, and Wind buries a smile at the thought that maybe Legend didn’t get it new like he’d let on.

It does a good job of keeping him warm though.

He wishes he could say the same for Four.

The poor smithy refuses to be carried, but as snow whips around them as they trek through the knee-high snow, the diminutive smith is left chattering and shivering in their wake.

It really shouldn’t be a surprise that Legend has something to help with that.

Yes, the vet still isn’t wearing pants, but he doesn’t seem too poorly off, no matter how badly the others shiver. He and Wild only share a look and scoff when Warriors asks through chattering teeth how the two of them aren’t freezing.

“You should see the mountains in my Hyrule.” Wild chuckles brightly.

“Done this before, cold is cold, you get used to it.” Legend grins, swinging his fire-rod.

“N-not all of us c-can s-st-stand the c-c-cold.” Four chatters grumpily, sounding startlingly close to the minish he’s shown Wind in the past. “Jer-jerks.”

The concern on the faces of the taller heroes is obvious, but with Twilight’s teeth chattering nearly madly (the rancher's nose is somehow frozen) and Time wrapped as tight as possible in one of Wild’s extra cloaks, it’s clear most of the others don’t have warm things to spare.

They were separated in landing in this world, and even when they had all been pulling themselves together again it had become clear that there was nothing of Wild’s that could even fit the smithy, and not even the blue scarf that trails over his shoulders seems to be doing much good against the freezing winds.

“Hang on a sec.” legend huffs, already turning to rustle through his bag. The coat he pulls out is ridiculously plushy, and in a soft shade of violet that makes Four chuckle past his chattering teeth. The chattering doesn’t last for much longer though, not when shoves the garment over Four’s head like Wind has done to his sister so many times with the sweaters Granny has knit them. The smithy’s blond hair is mused beyond recognition, chunky and flying every which way as he pushes his face out of the plush, but the healthy flush to his cheeks assures the rest of them that he won’t be freezing any time soon.

“I- Oh...” Whatever Four was about to say cuts off as he looks down at himself. The coat is long, but not too long. Where Wild’s shirts would drown the smithy, a coat made for Legend only brushes against the smithy’s ankles.

Legend smirks. “It prevents slipping too.”

“Why aren’t you wearing it then?” Hyrule questions, the Traveler’s cheeks are rosy in the cold, but borrowed clothes from Wild, while also too big, seem to be keeping him warmer.

Legend winces. “It’s a pain to get off.”

“And inconvenience is enough reason to freeze?”

“Do I look cold to you, captain?” Legend snarks, turning an expectant look on Warriors. “Because I certainly don’t feel it.”

“Stop rubbing it in.” The captain huffs, unfortunately too big to borrow from the others, and now highly irritable from the cold. His scarf is still on Four, and if what Legend says is right about the coat, Wars won’t be getting it back for a while, leaving the poor captain to shiver as he clings to another fire-rod.

Four seems comfy enough anyway.

[thiserichann]

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

  He opened the chat and started typing right away.

  LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

 Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

 "Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

  You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You  sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter I // JJ Maybank (smut)

I have started my first JJ story, which will consist of several chapters that I will constantly be updating. The story picks up where season 2 leaves us. TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence. 

Chapter 1 can be found below.  Oh, and - please feel free to submit requests, I tend to write a lot ;) 

Enjoy xx

Chapter 1 - La Guardiana

Days had passed since the Pogues had last seen civilisation, maybe even weeks. The sun was hotter than ever, with close to no wind to mask the warmth. JJ was taking this particularly badly. 

“I’m so done with eating bananas, man,” he moaned, kicking a pebble as he trotted a little behind the rest of his friends, “Can’t we just stumble across an oasis or something and end up in, like, an actual city?”

As if on command, his friends stopped in their tracks, the girls awing and the guys smiling happily. 

“We just might, JJ,” said John B, looking at the city unfolding itself in front of them in the distance, “We just might.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m actually starving,” laughed Sarah, nudging John B’s arm, “Don’t tease!” “Hey, so am I,” he cooed, “First joint we find, we’re going in for food.” Kiara rolled her eyes, “As much as I would love to accept that offer, let me remind you that we have no money.” Sarah nodded, “Mhm, nothing at all.” “Nada,” John B looked at the two girls sternly, “And when has that ever stopped us exactly?” Kiara rolled her eyes once again, smirking at her friend, “Alright, I suppose a good meal would give me the energy I’d need to run a marathon after getting caught not paying.”

The group continued walking down a not too busy street, studying the buildings, looking for a restaurant, cafe, diner - anything, really. They hadn’t had a proper meal in God knows how long and they were famished. They couldn’t help but notice how all the buildings on the street were of the same height - no more than four storeys each, all painted in different colours. If they hadn’t known any better, they’d have thought that they had left the United States of America altogether, although one thing was certain - they were definitely not in the Outer Banks anymore. 

The street wasn’t crowded at all, there were hardly any cars or people lurking about. JJ concluded that this was probably an unpopular area of whichever city they were in. This would also explain the lack of supermarkets and restaurants. He really wanted to ask his friends to stop for a little break - his throat was so dry and his legs could barely hold him up anymore, but he knew better. The longer they walk, the faster they’ll find what they are looking for. Having no indicator of the time on them wasn’t helping either, hell, they could have been walking for 12 hours for all he knew, and with no result. 

“Maybe we should just ask someone,” Pope suggested, “Neither of us is a wanted criminal anymore, I’d say we have nothing to worry about.” John B smirked at his friend’s remark, but ultimately agreed to ask the first person they ran into where the nearest food joint was. Turns out, they were standing right in front of it. 

“La Cubanita Hotel and Restaurant” it spelled out in bold, red letters. The building was narrow and a light shade of blue, totally contrasting the obnoxiously coloured sign planted in front of it. Much like the rest of the buildings on the street, it had no more than four floors, each consisting of a row of Spanish windows with brightly coloured frames. The Pogues looked at each other with a hint of uncertainty before John B lead the way into the building. 

On the inside it looked like a typical diner - tiled floor, red and blue booths, a long bar accompanied by bar stools and, cheesily enough, a boombox. JJ guessed that the way to the hotel was through the back, but he didn’t put too much thought into it. The place seemed dead, with only one of the booths being busy. It was either an off-peak hour or this city was actually a ghost town. 

The group sat at one of the booths on the other side of where the other people were and JJ took a second to observe them. A group of bikers, all wearing stereotypical biker outfits from leather jackets down to bandanas. They were in their mid 50s and were all smoking indoors, drinking what looked like whiskeys, despite of the blazing sun still very much being out. JJ had to give it to them though, they did look pretty darn cool if he did say so himself, and those cigarettes looked eerily appetising to him at this given moment. Oh, what he’d give to have a sip of whatever they were having and a long, much needed drag of one of their cigarettes. He was so lost in his daydream, he barely realised Kiara poking him in the arm. 

“JJ,” she urged, “Waitress is here!” In this moment JJ turned his attention to the new subject in question, their waitress. She was standing at the foot of their booth, wearing her uniform, black and red, holding a pen and a notepad, chewing a piece of gum, waiting for his order. Could this place get any more stereotypical? JJ thought to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, handsome?” She said, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Uh…” JJ fumbled with the menu, “I’ll just have whatever they’re having.” He said, pointing at the bikers in the booth across from theirs. The woman rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum. She took the rest of the Pogues’ orders before disappearing somewhere behind the bar. JJ followed her with his eyes, blocking out the conversation his friends were currently having. The waitress came back out of what he assumed to be the kitchen and handed the paper with their orders to another girl behind the bar. JJ guessed she was the barmaid, and boy was she a bit of him. 

She was wearing the same uniform as her colleague, although JJ had to admit - it looked a whole lot better on her, at least from what he could see from above the bar. Her hair was long and brown, half of it tied up effortlessly, and slightly messily, although JJ didn’t mind one bit. He watched her as she took the paper from her colleague and went to fetch the drinks written on it. He couldn’t make out what exactly colour her eyes were, and quite frankly - he didn’t really care, she was gorgeous regardless of what her eyes looked like, and she looked around his age. Had the sun and heat gotten to his head, or was it just the fact that he hadn’t touched a female in so long, he didn’t know, but if there was one thing JJ Maybank was notorious for, it was his ability to pull any girl his heart desired effortlessly. This is why he excused himself from the table and, albeit his friends’ confused looks and comments, he made his way towards the bar, sliding into one of the stools directly across from the girl. 

She looked up at him, “Can I help you?” “Brown…” JJ mumbled to himself. “Excuse me?” She said, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Her eyes were brown, JJ thought, brown and sexy. He coughed, trying to compose himself and gave her his signature Maybank stare. It worked wonders back home, surely it would work wonders now again. “Name’s JJ,” he said suavely, “I’m not from around here-“ “Clearly,” she muttered, picking up a bottle of whiskey. JJ assumed it was for him, “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, JJ?”

JJ smirked, “What can I say, I have the face of a boy but the body and mind of a man.” The girl snickered under her nose, “Sure. Well since you’re here, make yourself useful and bring your drinks over to your friends,” she gave him a fake smile, placing a tray with their orders on it in front of him, after which she turned her back to him and walked towards the back of the bar. JJ was too busy observing her behind to notice the other waitress standing next to him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Should I take that or will you?” She said, waking JJ up from his everlasting daydream. “Oh, uh, don’t sweat it…” he said, picking up the tray and carrying it over to his friends’ booth. “So much for customer service,” Sarah laughed. “And to think my dad says I’m hostile to our customers,” Kiara muttered out. JJ took his seat next to her, his eyes never leaving the bar. “La Guardiana,” Pope read out loud, “This place is called La Guardiana, and apparently we’re somewhere in Florida.” “Florida?” John B said, confusion dripping through his words. Pope nodded, pointing at some text on the bottom of the menu. 

La Cubanita Hotel & Restaurant **, 97 Diego’s Crescent, La Guardiana, FL 

“Holy shit, we’re in Florida!” John B whisper yelled. Sarah laughed at his reaction, “Calm down now, Sancho, let’s not draw any attention to us,” “Yeah, you might wanna tell Casanova here that,” teased Pope, nodding his head in JJ’s direction, “Was it really worth it to potentially blow our cover just to talk to that girl?” JJ snapped at Pope, “Hey, man, just ‘cuz you don’t have the nuts to go over there and talk to her yourself,” “Yeah, I really want to attract the staff’s attention, you know, even more than we already are, seeing as we’re the only other busy table at this place.” “Your food,” the waitress from earlier was back with some of the Pogues’ orders. They waited for her to be out of earshot and JJ spoke up, “Relax, P, I bet you I can charm the pants off that girl and we won’t even need to sneak out without paying!” Pope gave JJ a fake smile, “Mhm, I’m sure she’s gonna be so deep under your spell she won’t even notice us leaving without paying a cent." JJ rolled his eyes, picking up a toothpick from the table and placing it between his teeth. “Might even offer us a place to crash, you know, because she’ll be so captivated by you.” Pope continued to tease. “Yeah, chicks totally dig this whole I’m homeless and I haven’t properly showered in like 15 days look you're going for,” Sarah joined in on the teasing. Kiara laughed and added, “Yeah, and the bit that’s gonna fully seal the deal for her is that you have literally nothing to offer her, like 0 dollars.” Everyone was laughing while JJ just crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to look out the window, “Talk all you want, guys, but once we get that gold back, you’ll see who’ll dig what.” “The rest of your order,” he recognised the girl’s voice. It was her bringing their food over this time. She placed John B’s plate in front of him and then made her way around the table, next to where JJ was sat. She handed him his plate and bent down slightly, so that her lips were on the same level as JJ’s ear, “Next time you decide to share your criminal plans, you might wanna talk a bit more quietly.” She whispered, setting his cutlery down for him, “Oh, and, you might be charming wherever you come from, but your friend’s right. That shit doesn’t work around here.” She said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. JJ didn’t waste time sitting around to listen to his friends pass comments about what had just happened, he downed his whiskey and practically chased after the girl. “I’m guessing you’ll want another one?” She said, not even turning around. JJ wondered how she knew that he was there. When she turned to face him, the bottle of whiskey was in her hand. “Let’s see… Do I pour you another one and close my eyes about you planning to leave without paying, or do I do what anyone else in my position would do and call the police on you? Hmm…” she pretended to think, her eyes never leaving JJ’s now panicking ones. “Please don’t call the cops,” he blurted out, the whiskey hitting his brain and making him stress out more than he wanted to admit to, “Look, we - we were in a boat accident, we don’t even know how we got here, hell - we didn’t even know where we were up until 10 minutes ago! And we - we don’t have  any documents on us, we don’t have any sort of identification, what would you -“ “Relax, kid,” the girl smirked, picking up two glasses and pouring a generous amount of whiskey in both of them, “I won’t rat you out.” She said, handing JJ one of the glasses and raising hers for a toast. JJ clinked his glass with hers, a large smile growing on his face, his dimples becoming very prominent, “Thank you, really… That means a lot.” The girl took a moment to observe JJ, then to look at his friends having a heated conversation at their booth, all of them practically stuffing their faces with food in an almost animalistic sort of way. Could this boy really be telling the truth? Could these kids have been lost at sea with no place to go? She looked back at JJ who was also looking at her. Despite the smile plastered on his face, she could clearly see that he was extremely nervous still. “Hey,” she said, “I told you to relax, didn’t I. I won’t charge you for your food, in fact… I might even have a place for you to sleep and clean up tonight.” JJ’s eyes grew wider at her words, “You what?” She leaned in closer to him over the bar and lowered her voice so that he would be the only one to hear, “Hotel upstairs, my aunt owns it. She’s currently out of town with my cousin. Should be back next Thursday. I think I can fit you and your friends in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour.” She said, pulling away and taking another sip from her drink. JJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. She was hot and she was willing to help? This must have been his lucky day. Sarah could suck it, and so could the others. Clearly this girl was into him. Why else would she be offering to help? “So, uh, what’s in it for me?” He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. The girl opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the other waitress groaned from behind her. “Samara, how many times do I have to tell you?” Her croaky voice rang. The girl, who JJ had just learned was called Samara, rolled her eyes and repeated with her colleague, “No drinking on the job, yeah yeah, I know. But Heather’s gone and so is Conner, so who can tell me what to do, really?” She said, finishing what was left of her whiskey, “Besides, Georgia, as far as I’m concerned, since they’re both gone, that leaves me in charge, no? Now get back to work,” she said, making her colleague roll her eyes at her. Samara turned around to face JJ again, giving him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. JJ couldn’t believe his luck. He swung his arm over the bar and picked up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself one more drink before returning to his friends. “Guys-“ JJ tried getting their attention. “So what are we supposed to do now? We’re totally screwed!” “They’re gonna call the police on us, hell, they probably already have! The cops could be on their way!” “Guys!” JJ yelled, catching even the bikers’ attention. His friends looked up at him, worry filling all of their eyes. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to tell you, oh, and Sarah? You can eat your words.” He smirked before telling them what had just happened. “Hold on,” said Kiara, her face revealing her confusion, “So this random girl in this random place just randomly said that we can crash here until when?” “Next Thursday, or was it Tuesday? What day is it today?” JJ scratched his head. “JJ!” Kiara slapped his arm, “What if this is a trap? It sounds too good to be true doesn’t it? Like, what’s in it for her? We don’t even know her! What if she’s a murderer or something?” “She’s right, you know,” Cleo chimed in. “She is,” said John B, “But we have nothing to lose, literally.” Pope nodded, “I’d usually agree with Kie, but John B’s right. We have nothing to lose. And what if she calls the police? What could even happen then? We get put in jail for agreeing to sleep in a hotel for free? Come on, guys, I’m sure we can all agree that a bar of soap and a normal bathroom would do us good. I mean, we stink.” Everyone laughed at Pope’s remark before Kiara turned to JJ again, “So what’s the plan?” Realisation just struck JJ that he didn’t in fact know what the plan was. Samara had told him virtually nothing about how any of this would go down. Where were they supposed to meet? Was she going to take them to their rooms? Would they all be sharing one room? He was so busy thinking about how all of this would go down, he barely noticed Samara herself passing him a note. It was taken out of her colleague, who JJ now knew to be Georgia’s notepad. The note read in messy handwriting:

Bring your friends to the lobby. Straight down the hallway by the bathrooms. 

JJ turned the piece of paper towards his friends and they all got up, rushing towards the hallway by the bathrooms.

[carolmaximoffs]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAIT OMFG i can’t believe so many of the coolest ppl in my life that i know are aquas. ily you’re NINETEEN that’s wild!! you know i love a good roommates or friends w benefits fic gimme gimme gimme 😗💜

a/n: THIS IS SO LATE AGH...here is your long overdue wanda x reader roommates fic, my love! so sorry for the wait, but thank you for your sweet words and your patience <3 @subtlebucky

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

warnings: none really? maybe a curse. references to drinking, partying. jealous! reader. apologies to anyone named jillian, beck, or yasmine. sharing a bed, but not in THAT way. 

WHEN YOU WAKE UP, you smell coffee already brewing. You stretch leisurely as you pad into the main part of your shared apartment, faux-flirtatious smile already gracing your lips.

“Smells good, baby!” You call. The laughter dissipates from your body as you pause in the kitchen doorway. Wanda is indeed sipping coffee in the kitchen, but is also standing between the legs of a tall, rather buff girl you’ve never seen before who’s perched comfortably on your island. “Oh.”

"Jill, this is my roommate, Y/N," Wanda says, perfectly at ease. You wonder if your eye really does twitch at the sight of Wanda's hand on Jill's thigh, but you pray it's just your imagination.

“Hi, uh, I didn’t - we’re not - hi.” Your face burns as you duck past them, reaching up into the cabinet for your mug before realizing it’s missing. You whirl around, about to ask Wanda, when you see it. And Wanda must realize it the same time you do, because she gives you this tight smile and wide eyes. Jill sips idly from your favorite cup, the one with the funny handle and your initial in rainbow gradient. Pietro, Wanda’s brother, had gifted it to you a few Christmas’s back - you know he’d have stopped Jillian from using it. Instead, you fill the most boring mug you and Wanda own - black, with a white outline of Sokovia in a red heart - and send your roommate a sour look. “I’ll just...”

You jerk your head towards the bedrooms, and stalk off. Maybe out of embarrassment, but mostly out of stubbornness, you pretend not to hear Wanda apologizing and making excuses on your behalf as you leave.

.......

Two weeks later, just when things are returning to normal, it happens again.

Well, more or less. It’s significantly darker out now, and this time you’re putting leftover Chinese food in the fridge when the door bursts open. Wanda all but falls into your apartment, a sharp-nosed girl with a deep violet buzzcut hot on her heels. Space Army Cadet and your best friend are hand in hand, the latter barely tossing you a glance as she drags her guest down the hall. And yeah, you’ve seen Wanda bring people home before - even brought a handful of people home yourself. Hell, one of you two’s closest friends was an ex of hers; oddball physics major, Vis, had been Wanda’s lover for the notable first three years of college.

 Lately, though, you’d noticed this...pit in your stomach, carved a little deeper with each new bedmate. Every time you shook it off - it wasn’t any of your business what Wanda did in her free time. Was it because they were women? You catch yourself wondering, but no - you’d never had an issue with that, why would you start now? Shutting the fridge, you shuffle back to your room, turning your TV up to drown out anything from Wanda’s room next door.

The next morning, the eccentric friend is nowhere to be found, but you did find there was a severe lack of alcohol in your coffee as Wanda cheerily filled you in. Buzzcut’s name was Yasmine, she was in Wanda’s European lit. course, and they’d gone out for drinks to celebrate Yasmine nearing the acquirement of her masters. You stare into your cup and hum at all the appropriate points, choosing not to point out that it was only November and nowhere near graduating season. Maybe Yasmine was on the fast track - Wanda always did like the smart ones. 

You become so absorbed in thought you don’t notice at first that your housemate has stopped chittering away. When you look up, it’s to a pouty frown. You shift in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “What?”

“Are you...okay?” Wanda’s frown deepens, brows furrowed as she brushes a stray lock of auburn from her face and folds her arms over her chest. “We...You’ve been a little distant lately, I guess.” 

“I’m fine,” You say breezily, rising to your feet to dump the dregs of your coffee in the sink. Some irritating heartstring twangs at your tone - you hate brushing Wanda off, but what are you supposed to say? Hey, can you stop bringing girls home? I think I’ve caught homophobia. You repress a shudder at the mere thought as you move to sweep past her and get ready for your first class, but a small hand curls around your bicep.

“Just...don’t be a stranger, okay, kedvesem?” Darling. Swallowing the lump in your throat, feeling curiously parched, you can only nod. Wanda lets go, but you can feel her fingerprints burning like a brand even when you’re lying in bed that night.

.....

The holidays go off more or less without a hitch; there’s a very scary hiccup shortly before Christmas when you come home to find Wanda curled into Vision’s side on the couch, the pair of them sharing a blanket. But Wanda looks...as if she’s been crying? Love Actually is playing, Wanda’s go to Christmas comfort movie, and Vision is texting someone called ‘Peter M.’ with an alarming number of heart emojis, so you continue onward. 

Your subconscious must be looking out for you otherwise, because it’s not until New Year’s that you see Wanda with a mystery lover. Actually, you don’t see much of Wanda at all outside of Christmas, and even when you do, it’s always just the two of you at home. Of course, because of this, she insists on dragging you out for a New Year’s party. When her twin, Pietro, gangs up on you via Facetime, you give up arguing and steal a shimmery black slip from Wanda’s closet before flipping them the bird. 

Pietro arrives around 10 to pick the pair of you up, obnoxiously laying on the horn outside of your apartment building. Wanda trips several times as she tries to shove on her other heel and put lipstick on at the same time. Making it out the door is a whole other ordeal - after a short spat about Wanda needing a jacket, an awkward moment when the elevator doors open on some neighbors practicing for midnight, and finding Pietro just about to buzz in to get you, you and Wanda are sliding into the backseat of Pietro’s obnoxiously cramped sports car.

“Ladies, your prince, or princess, awaits!” Pietro announces grandly as you pull up to a shabby loft just a few blocks away. You can hear the music from the street, sighing inwardly as you force yourself to get out of the car. Wanda smooths out her flowy black pants - you keep your eyes trained politely above her shoulders to ignore the fitted, maroon sequined top with the plunging V-neck she’s paired with them. 

“I’m actually meeting someone here,” She says casually to her brother as the three of you make your way in. Pietro waves her off with well-wishes, but throws you a questioning glance. All he gets however is a shrug in reply, this is certainly news to you. He accompanies you to the makeshift bar where you fill a cup with copious amounts of liquor. It usually wasn’t your vice, but the strobe lights alone could be cause to drink. You made a mental note to ask whose idea this party even was in the first place. when you turn around, though, Pietro, too, has slipped off into the crowd.

So you do what one is supposed to do at sweaty, too-loud functions such as this one - push yourself from your comfort zone, get comfortably tipsy while you wedge yourself into the mass of bodies and move with strangers. As mentioned, liquor and strangers have never been favorite pastimes of yours, so once you finish off your second drink (maybe third - you deserved it), you set out searching for Wanda. Her glittery form is tucked into a corner with a small group you don’t recognize, but you definitely note that she’s in the lap of a tall, dark, and handsome type. She spots you before you can get to her, making excited grabby hands as you get closer. 

“Y/N!” The bubbly young woman squeals over the music. She leans forward to be heard better, and you gulp. “This is Beck! And Jade, and Marcie, and you remember Yasmine!” 

You offer only a wave and tight smiles as you, too, lean in further. “I’m gonna get an Uber!”

“What?” Wanda pouts dramatically, Beck snaking an arm around her waist to steady her as she jolts back in disappointment. “It’s not even midnight yet!”

“No, I know, I’m just not really feeling it, I guess!” Yasmine leads over to whisper something to Jade; it’s the furthest thing from your mind as Wanda reaches out to squeeze your hands understandingly. 

“I’ll see you later! Kisses!” You repeat the word weakly before shoving once more through the mass. The sidewalk and cool bite of the outdoors is a welcome respite - your driver doesn’t speak all the way to your apartment, and you give them 5 stars for it. After a cold, quick shower, you curl up in your fuzziest bathrobe with a cup of coffee and flick through Netflix. You know when midnight rolls around when the neighbors upstairs, hosting a party of their own, cheer and shout to each other. It can’t be 20 minutes later that your door is met with a tentative knock.

On the other side is Vision in the most disarray you’ve seen him in - he’s in pajamas, for Pete’s sake, hair and glasses askew over a chunky knit sweater. He’s supporting an equally-bleary but much more drunk Wanda, and passes her to you with a wrinkled nose.

“Y/N!” She crows, dissolving into giggles as you shushed her. “I wondered where you went.” 

“I told you I was coming home, bubs,” You mutter, hugging her back briefly before you notice Vision is still standing in your entryway. “Hey, how about you go get changed, and then I’ll make you some eggs?”

Wanda agrees, talking animatedly even as she walks away. You look back at Vision, smiling wearily. “Thanks for bringing her home safe, Vis. Did you want a cup of coffee, or...?”

“No, thank you,” Vision quips, polite as ever as he tugs his sweater down over his hands. He jerks his dimpled chin the direction Wanda had disappeared in. “Take care of her, please.”

“Of course,” You reply, instantly, brows furrowing. He nods briskly before turning to leave. “Thank you again.”

“Of course. Goodnight.” He’s almost to the elevators when you call a ‘Happy New Year’ after him, and that earns you a smile. “Happy New Year to you as well, Y/N.”

Back inside, you find Wanda spread eagle on her bed in mismatched socks, an old college hoodie, and the same underwear you’re pretty sure she wore to go out tonight. You poke her heel and she makes a frankly unhuman gurgle into the duvet. “How much did you have?”

“Nah a lah,” Is her muffled reply. “We’on dwink anymo’.” 

You realize she’s right, though you figured she was at least taking some of those dates to bars. Maybe not, though - Wanda was always a romantic. You push the mere though away and tug at the arm closest to you. “Yeah, I know. You’ll feel better if you eat something, though.” 

Her protesting grunts are less effective than when she kicks out blindly, narrowly avoiding your hip, and you huff. “Fine, I’ll bring the food to you.”  You make to leave, but she’s captured your wrist now. Wanda turns her head to make powerful puppy eyes at you. “Stay. Sleepy.” 

“I...yeah. Okay.” You were still a little tipsy in your own right - neither of you were college kids anymore, after all. Wanda’s smile was blinding as the pair of you made your way under her numerous layers of blankets. When she turned the lamp off, you wondered if she could hear your heart thundering in the dark.

“Y/N?” She whispers, just when you think she’s fallen asleep. 

“Yes, Wanda?” 

“I love you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, brushing it off as dreaming.

--------

Midday, you’re roused by someone laying across your stomach and shaking you awake. It’s Wanda, long lashes fluttering prettily as she rests her chin on folded elbows. You scrub sleep from your eyes as you croak, “Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, Y/N.” She says your name with purpose - sort of always has, you realize. You’re running over last night in your head, and like a mind reader, Wanda answers your every question. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Still love you.” Wanda murmurs. You meet her gaze - completely clear, if not a little glazed over with absolute adoration. She pushes up a little, lips hovering over yours. They brush just barely when you speak, sparking like live wires. 

“I love you, too,” You breathe, and finally, finally, she kisses you. 

Things make so, so much more sense then.

[beauregardlionett]

i think i might understand the concept of home

AO3 Link

Yasha’s car had broken down on the side of the road in some tiny town she only meant to pass through. She hadn’t even read the welcome sign half-a-mile back, so gods knew where she was. Thankfully, there was a shoulder and a sidewalk, so she wasn’t stuck in the middle of traffic. She had the hood popped and stared helplessly down at the tangle of mechanics she did not understand.

Nothing was smoking, so she figured that must be a good thing.

“Need a hand?”

Yasha glanced up, catching sight of a woman standing just outside the coffee shop Yasha broke down in front of. She stood defined in the sunlight, composed of sharp lines and lean muscle, contained by planes of smooth, coffee-colored skin. She had on a simple grey sports bra under denim overalls littered with stains and distressed patches torn in random places on the legs. Her hair was in a low bun sat over what looked like an undercut all tucked messily beneath a backward cap.

Damn...she was hot.

The woman cocked an expectant eyebrow, reminding Yasha she had yet to answer.

“Oh, um...yes?”

Hot Lady smirked and stepped off the curb to stand at Yasha’s shoulder, leaning over the open hood and inspecting the mess. Yasha was busy inspecting the tanned slope of neck to bare shoulder, all of her quite a sight in the midday sunlight.

Gods, was that a tattoo on her back?

With abrupt yet easy precision, Hot Lady hauled herself up onto the lip of Yasha’s truck and shoved her hand between various pieces of metal. Startled, Yasha looked down at the engine, hoping she wouldn’t have to call emergency services for a hand lost in her car engine.

“The alternator might be shot,” Hot Lady said, squinting as she moved her hand around a little.

“What does that mean?” Yasha managed, only a little strangled.

“Means you need to get your car into a shop because you aren’t going to have much luck getting far without it.” Hot Lady removed her hand and gave a little hop back down to the pavement. She wiped her hand carelessly on her overalls and shrugged a little.

“It’s not a super challenging thing to fix, but it will take a minute. I can point you to a good garage if you need.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you...um...”

“Beauregard,” the woman said, sticking out her hand with a grin. “Call me Beau.”

After hesitating a moment, Yasha grasped Beau’s hand and gave it a tentative shake, cheeks warm. Her face flushed even warmer when Beau raised her eyebrow again, clearly waiting for Yasha’s name.

“Yasha,” she blurted, horrid awkwardness muddying her chest. “I’m Yasha.”

“Nice to meet you, Yasha,” Beau said as she slowly took her hand back. Yasha already like the way her name sounded rolling off of Beau’s tongue - perhaps far too much for someone she just met.

“You might need to shack up somewhere for the night,” Beau said, pulling her phone from her pocket and texting someone. “Depending on how long the garage takes with your car. I haven’t seen you ‘round here before. You got a place to stay?”

“Oh...no,” Yasha managed. “I’m just passing through.”

“Well, I texted my buddy over at the garage to come get your car. He’ll be here soon. There’s only one hotel in this town, and to be honest, it sucks. My buddy Caleb moved most of his stuff out of his apartment, but he hasn’t turned the lease over yet. He got a big wig job two hours from here and they had him start early, despite the fact he still had a month on the lease. You can crash there if you want. I’m pretty sure he left his mattress.”

Yasha blinked, dazed and flabbergasted at the turn this conversation had taken.

“I...what?”

Beau looked up from her phone, fingers pausing in their rapid texting. She seemed to take in Yasha’s stunned expression and grimaced slightly.

“Sorry, that was a lot all at once.” Beau tucked her phone away and crossed her arms over her chest. Yasha recognized the defensive tactic attempting to look casual with ease. She performed that move often enough herself.

“This ‘helping’ thing isn’t my forte - more Jess’ thing. But uh...yeah. If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. Promise there're no strings attached or anything like that.”

“But...you don’t know me.”

“True,” Beau shrugged. “But it’s not like there’s anything to steal from Caleb’s place. It’s basically an empty apartment he’s not getting anything out of. Might as well put the place to good use.”

“Okay,” Yasha said after a moment of strange quiet. What else was she supposed to say?

Beau blinked up at Yasha, then grinned, wide and delighted. “Cool.”

A few minutes later, a tow truck pulled up. Beau greeted the driver enthusiastically as Yasha watched on, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

--

“This is it,” Beau said, shoving open the door with her hip as she wrestled the key out of the lock.

Yasha followed Beau in, fingers curled tightly around the strap of her meager duffle bag. The apartment was near barren, as Beau had said. It had a small living area that faded seamlessly into a kitchenette. Down a short hallway appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom, both doors open. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The only sign someone had recently been occupying the space was the old mattress just visible through the bedroom door and the sagging sofa in the living room.

“Sorry there’s no food in the kitchen, but there’s a store about a block from here if you’re up for a walk. I’d hang around but I have to get to a class.”

Yasha twisted to look at Beau, something bubbling up in her chest that felt a lot like gratitude and a little like something indescribable. She watched as Beau fiddled with her key ring, only realizing what was happening when Beau pulled a key off and tossed it to Yasha. She just barely managed to catch it and not make a fool of herself.

“That’s the key to the door for ya. And,” Beau pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from her pocket, holding it out to Yasha. “My number, in case you have questions or you need anything. I’m a night owl and an early riser, so chances are I’ll answer whenever.”

“Thank you,” Yasha warbled after a long moment, clutching the key so hard the grooves of its identity imprinted into her palm. The notches stung like she would never forget their shape. “I mean it. This is...a lot.”

Beau rubbed the back of her neck, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the worn floorboards. “It’s nothin’ really...”

“No,” Yasha insisted. “It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Beau’s gaze met Yasha’s intense stare, her bright blue eyes wide as they took in Yasha’s sincerity. A handful of seconds stretched into eternity before Beau ducked her head, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Yeah...sure.”

Yasha was getting the impression she wasn’t the only one completely out of her depth in this situation.

“I’ll come around tomorrow with updates...bye.”

Yasha watched her duck out the door, disappearing down the hallway before she shut the door behind Beau and clicked the lock.

--

The garage had Yasha’s car fixed and ready to go after two days. Yasha was still in town three months later.

In all honesty, she’s not sure how it happened.

The night she planned to leave, Beau had swung by and insisted on seeing her off. They ended up at a diner, tucked into a booth, talking like they actually knew each other. Next thing Yasha realized, it was nearing midnight, and they were being asked to wrap up so the diner could close. The chef had called to them from the window, an older looking man with bright pink hair who gave Beau a knowing look and a wink.

Somehow, that unplanned extra night turned into months. Yasha had taken on the lease from the absent Caleb for his apartment. She found a job at the local florist, a job she quietly enjoyed. The gravity of her situation only set in after she bought sheets for the mattress.

She met Jess - real name Jester, or Genevieve, but Yasha couldn’t sure - a bubbly girl with deep blue hair and the sweetest attitude ever. Her fingertips were permanently paint stained, and she left hastily sketched dicks everywhere she went. Yasha also met the tow truck driver from the first day, a guy named Fjord. They were a weird mix of individuals, but somehow they got on just fine. They ate dinner together every Thursday night at the same bar owned by the guy who tended the bar - one of those small town things. His name was Mollymauk - Molly for short and sometimes they instead of he - with inordinately purple hair and makeup to match.

Yasha never really spent a lot of time in her apartment. She didn’t see the point, not when she had access to the florist shop, or the diner, or anywhere else with Jess, Fjord, Molly, or Beau. Especially not when Jess’ apartment she shared with Fjord was so much warmer, much more like a home.

It took three months before Beau stopped mid-sentence of a story and blinked at Yasha over their pancakes in the diner.

“This is probably a stupid question, but did you have somewhere to be?”

Yasha looked up, confused. “Right now? Uh...no? My shift at the shop doesn’t start for another three hours.”

“No, no, I meant like outside this town. You told me you were passing through, before.”

“Oh,” Yasha set down her fork and looked out the window. Her chest felt tight. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago - a whole other person ago. “Not really.”

“Do...uhm,” Yasha looked over at Beau to find her pushing her food around her plate awkwardly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

This was difficult for both of them. If Yasha had learned anything in her time here, it was that they both struggled to convey their emotions eloquently. But that Beau tried meant everything to Yasha. The least she could do was meet her halfway.

“I was running, and I didn’t know where or when I would stop. But I guess this place is where I’m meant to be.”

“Why were you running?” Beau stared at her, gaze intense in a way Yasha found endearing. She watched like nothing else in the world could distract her.

“I...I had a wife. And I lost her rather abruptly almost six months ago. I tried to stay for a while, to keep what we had built together, but I wasn’t strong enough. So I ran and hoped that I would find something worth staying for again before I fell off the world.”

Beau stared at Yasha openly over their half-eaten breakfast, eyes wide.

“You stayed here. Does that mean you found something here?”

Yasha looked at Beau, at her messy bun and her undercut that needed a fresh shave. She took in the puddle of syrup, slowly saturating Beau’s pancakes and the half gone pile of bacon. Beau’s cellphone sat face down on the table so her attention stayed on Yasha. She realized the baggy sweater Beau had on was one Yasha had misplaced almost a month ago. Yasha lost her breath at the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach.

“I think so,” Yasha breathed, tethered and unhinged all at once.

--

They didn’t talk about it, because of course they didn’t.

But two weeks after their pancake conversation, Beau invited Yasha out for a night on the town. There were only two bars with decent night life here, and Yasha had been to both of them exactly once during her time here. (The daytime trips to Molly’s bar didn’t count, of course. She had only been to their bar for the night life once.)

She met Beau in the middle, and they walked together the rest of the way.

Beau had gotten her undercut shaved tight again, but it was hidden with the way her hair spilled loose and long down her back. She had a cobalt lace crop top on - the one with the built-in bra. The way it showed off the definition of her muscles was doing things to Yasha. The black cigarette pants didn’t help either.

A few drinks and way too many EDM songs later - or maybe only a few? Yasha couldn’t tell them apart - Yasha remained upright from adrenaline alone. Somewhere between the drinks and the beat of the music, Beau pressed up against Yasha, wiry arms winding around Yasha’s neck as they danced. Yasha wasn’t much of a dancer in any regard, but she was just tipsy enough to not care.

Beau’s hips fit comfortably in the space between Yasha’s hands, and Yasha resolutely tried not to follow that train of thought. For no other reason than she didn’t want to ruin a good thing, and there was no way Beau felt the same.

Beau pushed onto her toes, shiny black boots creasing with the motion as her lace top rode up her enticing torso.

“I really want to kiss you,” Beau called over the heavy thrum of the base. Her voice nearly got lost in the din, but Yasha heard her. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t. The weight of her heart dropping into her stomach hit too heavy and real to ignore.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss Beau, too.

Yasha’s t-shirt stuck to random parts of her torso with sweat, a detail she was now hyper-aware of with how little space existed between her and Beau. The press of bodies around them was abruptly unnerving. So much so, Yasha wound an arm around Beau’s shoulders and steered them both free, ducking into the hallway that lead to the bathrooms as Yasha gasped for air.

Beau leaned her back against the wall for support, peering at Yasha with far too much clarity for someone who could barely stand upright.

“Are you okay, Yash?” Her voice was quieter now that they had moved out of the main bar, but the base still pounded like a heartbeat through the floorboards.

With more confidence than Yasha would ever possess in her life, she caged Beau in, a hand on either side of her head against the wall. As Beau stared up at her with unabashed awe, Yasha’s face warmed with flushed embarrassment.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Then do it,” Beau said. It sounded like a dare, but she said it as if she were asking permission.

With a quick swoop into Beau’s space, Yasha pressed her lips to Beau’s with the barest amount of pressure. A feather-light, electric brush of a promise, a question, and an invitation. Yasha moved no closer.

Beau leaned in, and as far as kisses went, it was simple. Neither of them surged toward the other, or grappled for purchase to deepen the embrace. It was an easy press of lips, testing the waters despite the alluring tug of the tide.

Tipsy seconds later, Beau pulled back first with a soft gasp. Yasha’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt like a cheesy teenager when she realized they had closed without her knowledge.

“Do you want to do this?” Beau asked, voice soft and a little wrecked despite the chaste kiss.

Yasha, never one for many words, gave a quick nod and ducked back in. It wasn’t confidence, more like the beginning of a realization.

Beau held onto her, this time hands back around Yasha’s neck and fingers tangled deep in Yasha’s wild hair. Yasha took one hand from the wall to cup the back of Beau’s head, fingers sliding easily over the short hairs of Beau’s undercut.

It wasn’t a fireball kiss, but it tasted like the whiskey shots they had done half an hour ago. Beau’s lips were soft and a stark contrast to the way she kissed Yasha. It wasn’t falling stars and fire lit in her chest, nor was it a cosmic shift of puzzle pieces snapping into place. As before, it was a realization, a revelation of something that might have been there for a while.

Beau kissed Yasha back, and she thought about pancakes at the diner and memorizing the way Beau’s eyes scrunched when she laughed. Yasha rubbed her thumb over Beau’s jawline and Beau’s sharp grin burst to life behind her eyelids. A tug to Yasha’s hair reminded her of Beau offering to braid Yasha’s messy locks every time they all slept at Jess’ place. Beau licked into Yasha’s mouth and all at once, Yasha pictured her apartment. She saw the walls she had kept carefully bare, the sheets she had bought, but no other furniture. The echoing emptiness of a place abandoned for a better chance, and inhabited by the echo of who Yasha used to be.

And what did people say about echoes being louder in empty rooms?

Beau kissed Yasha, and Yasha realized she didn’t want to be an echo anymore.

Beau made her feel solid in a way that was undemanding. She merely held out her hand and asked for the pieces of Yasha that were real, the parts she was willing to share. She helped Yasha make them into a complete picture.

Yasha kissed Beau back with all the gentle strength she could muster through the weight of her epiphany and the whiskey.

This time, Yasha knew she found something worth staying for.