#BUT SINCE THEY MADE IT SEEM BETTER THAN IT IS YOU PICK THE WORST THING YOU COULD EVER REALISTICALLY DO TO CHOCOLATE AND STILL HAVE PEOPLE

[zelokors-random-stuff]

life is like a box of chocolates...

you go in thinking your going to have a real great time and then you realize half of the flavors you dislike and the other half are some war crime like salted caramel, and so your just standing there, having spent 20 dollars on the most "eh it's ok in general" sweets in your life, or if your unlucky it's all peanut and you have a peanut allergy!

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ where he finds home ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you and your daughter have managed to fall into a comfortable pattern of life with logan by your sides, but your ex shows up one night to stir up some trouble and the wolverine isn’t having any of it┊2.9k words; prt one, prt two (here), prt three (coming soon)

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: hurt/comfort? mostly fluff, ooc logan probably, single mother reader with an unspecified age but still younger than logan, this chapter is mostly in your perspective, asshole exes, rushed ending what, but love confessions & getting together isn’t that cute

➤ author's note: alright, part two of the single mom! reader & her daughter!! the amount of support i’ve had on this was overwhelming, so sorry that this chapter isn’t on par with the first one, hopefully the next one will be better!

ever since that night, logan found himself rarely going a single day without interacting with you or your daughter. he can’t explain the force that seems to pull him towards the two of you, but he can easily realize that the sheer magnitude of it overpowered the little voice in the back of his head spewing pessimistic comments about how this couldn’t possibly end well just like everything else in his life did. his little made-up rule not to get attached is thrown out the window every time he sees either of you, reminding him that one simply cannot fight against the impossible no matter how much of a hardened killing machine he used to be. how could he try to avoid these feelings when they seemed to fill the hole in his heart until it was bursting at the seams with affection as if it was as easy as the apple pie you sometimes baked to share?

besides, even if he tried to hide this rapidly growing fondness, it’s not like anyone would have let him: not when wade keeps on offering to babysit while you’re at work, not when your baby has picked up the habit of running up to him to ask for hugs or to be picked up, not when you’re a sight for sore eyes as you follow up in the evening in your formal attire and pearls to pick her up, and especially not when althea keeps asking you when you two are getting married with the claim that she doesn’t need sight to see the chemistry happening at the dinner table. 

you’ll laugh and brush it off as the old lady watching too many romance films in her free time, but your cheeks are secretly burning in embarrassment at how literally everyone can tell that you’re crushing like a high schooler in your grown age except for the subject of your fancy. 

logan himself is pretty difficult to read, but thankfully, his roommates are open-book, blunt to a fault, and willing to tell you anything and everything you need to know whether or not you even asked. for example, they confirmed he did indeed have a soft spot for you and your daughter, one that made them howl with laughter as they bully him relentlessly for it (feel free to tell them that they shouldn’t because he’s just being nice, they aren’t going to listen to you). he tries his best to refrain from swearing within earshot, not even under his breath on the off-chance she will hear it and pick it up. he fixes his appearance whenever he knows he’ll see you in an attempt to look more approachable. he never cares to listen to the ongoing conversations about other friends, but he’ll lean in a little closer if it’s about you. he even buys toys or stuffed animals on occasion because he thinks of her when he sees them.

you probably shouldn’t be thinking about these things during such a busy moment of your life when you’re focused on raising your daughter, getting that job promotion in the bag, and finally agreeing to take your ex to court for him to take responsibility by paying child support. although he’s as kind as a man who is as gruff and rugged as he can be, he’s still an older man (both chronologically and biologically) who is a mutant superhero with powers you were still unaware of. it’s not you questioning if he’s safe to be around, it’s you questioning if it’s in his best interest to have a family with all that going on (especially if he wanted to play father to a toddler who had no blood relation to him. playing uncle is one thing, but father? you can never be sure).

still, you would be lying if you said that seeing him being so tender and sweet with your daughter didn’t stir up a domestic image in your mind. a girl could only dream, right? 

recently, he’s been showing up at your doorstep with a toolbox in hand every other day. you’ve been complaining lately about how nothing under your roof seems to work anymore and every time you inform the landlord, you get a half-assed job that falls apart within the span of a week: the pipes are leaking, the windows refuse to open, the gas stove won’t start, and there are also other things you never got around to fixing yourself like a wobbly desk or putting together a little bed for your baby since she’s outgrown her crib.

the conversations usually go a little something like:

“oh, you really don’t need to—”

“no, no, i insist— it’s not like i have anything better to do, and i’ll do a much better job than whatever the fuck those maintenance men have been doing anyways.” he’ll purse his lips at the unintentional curse word which slipped and then push past you. “anyway, which windows have been giving you trouble?”

it takes him an hour maximum to work his magic, always leaving behind something fully functional and stable enough to last for years. you’ll compliment his handy skills and try to push a wad of cash into his hands, but he refuses it every single time. you can’t match his stubborn personality for more than a few minutes, so you’ll sigh and offer him to stay for dinner instead because you refuse to let him go home empty-handed after helping you out so generously. 

while you’re busy rummaging through your pantry and fridge for ingredients to cook something of varying degrees of complexity each time, your daughter will make an appearance to keep logan occupied because you refuse to allow anyone to enter your kitchen ever since that incident with wade. yes, he is more careful and mature, no, you’re not taking any chances. 

tonight, she’s playing forcing him to play with an assortment of dolls. he’s never done this before, and it looks so awkward to see a grown-ass six-foot-two man holding a little blonde barbie limply in his hand without any idea what the setting is or the storyline or the characters supposed to be played, but your girl was smiling and cheerfully babbling something barely legible every time he played along so he wasn’t about to complain about it. 

you hummed a tune while slicing thin slices of beef, completely on autopilot and enjoying the night of peace. the doorbell suddenly rang throughout your apartment and you rushed to wash off your hands before wiping them off with a dishrag, assuming it was one of his roommates. who else could the unannounced visitor be at eight-thirty in the evening?

the smile on your face immediately dropped when you saw the unusually unkempt appearance of your ex-fiancé, reeking of booze with his hair sticking out a little past his ears and rough stubble lining his jaw. before you could even say something, he rudely pushed past you and stood in the center of the unfamiliar space. maybe it was for the best since he definitely would have caused a massive commotion in the hallway and disturbed the neighbors who didn’t need to be subjected to your personal issues. your daughter had fallen silent and stared at him in a mix of confusion and something else that was unreadable yet clearly not joyous in any way. 

the entire world seemed to stop for a moment as you held your breath in anticipation of his next move, wondering if he was going to be amiable or (more likely) stir some trouble to disturb the peace. your eyes met with logan’s and you shifted your gaze to the hallway entrance for a split second to signal him to bring your daughter into her bedroom, sparing her the scare that would come when her father would inevitably lash out. 

he understood immediately and picked her up in a single swift motion, “come on, bub, it’s time to go to bed.” his hand rested her head on his shoulder and she appeared to be okay, just wide-eyed with her thumb in her mouth, almost as if she could recognize the gravity of the situation despite barely being able to comprehend such things. 

“it’s only been a few months, and you’re already living with another man…:

“it’s actually almost been a year, but what are you even doing here? i thought you had a wedding to plan.”

“... wedding���s been canceled…”

“aw, really?” you could already tell where this was going. althea told you plenty of times that once he saw how much better you were doing without him while his life quickly tumbles down a slope, he would come crawling back. she made you promise on your life that you wouldn’t take him back no matter what, whether he begged on his knees promising he’ll be better or revealed he was the new ceo of amazon with riches beyond your imagination. you didn’t quite understand her concerns because the thought of it never crossed your mind once, but she just tutted and reminded you that love was unpredictable before revoking her statement when she remembered you wouldn’t get back together with your ex when the wolverine was on the table.

“she was seeing someone else…”

“well, well, well, you know what they say, ‘karma’s a bitch.’ it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”

he took a step towards you and you flinched in response, making the other man standing in the shadows straighten his posture. he was never physically abusive, but you had no idea how he would behave under the influence. “you know she was the reason everything fell apart…”

“oh, don’t try to pin the blame on her when you were the one who was about to get married and you were the one who made the choice to abandon her family. good on her for leaving, and you should do the same.”

“do you ever think there would be anyone who would love you like i did? i was your first, and there isn’t anyone else who would take you as is. hell, i don’t even think the other guy will be around for much longer—”

“alright, i’ve had enough of this.” logan came forward from his spot in the shadows, getting closer to your ex until he was clearly intimidated by his looming figure and threatening aura. it’s the first time you’ve seen such a dangerous edge to him, yet strangely enough, you still felt safe knowing he was acting in your defense (if it was any other man, you probably would have kicked them both out before it could escalate). “get out of here.”

“can’t believe this,” he spat, turning his head to look back at you, “you bitch—”

he grunted at the insult, feeling more pissed off about it being directed at you rather than him, promptly throwing a punch into his face and gripping onto his collar before he could stumble over. an unfamiliar *schlikt* sound was heard before your eyes managed to process the long metal claws mere inches away from gouging out your ex’s eyes, making you gasp quietly in shock.

“okay! okay! i’m leaving!”

“i’ll escort you out,” he growled, still not letting go of him as he shoved him out of the door and closed it behind him, wanting to make sure that he would never come to bother you like this ever again and also drag him to apartment security to ensure they understood not to let him in ever again. 

then once he was gone, logan stood outside in the slight cold for a moment wondering what to do next. he just revealed his true nature to you that he’s been trying so hard to suppress: violent and animalistic. he should just prepare to hear you say that you are now scared of him, that you would prefer it if he didn’t come over anymore and to stay away from you and your daughter. 

the worst part is that he can’t even blame you, and a part of him feels like this was for the best. he was stupid to hope for a peaceful domestic with two human civilians when he was a mutant through and through. still, his heart drops at the thought of your eyes looking at him with fear rather than the usual caring, gentle look that made him forget all of his pain.

there was more impending doom weighing on him as he stalked up the stairs than there ever was for certain death missions.

his hyper-sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of a baby crying, one that he immediately recognized as your daughter’s. he slowed his pace to hear you trying desperately to calm her down.

“oh, oh, shh, i know, i know,” you sighed, “god, logan, please hurry back…” he practically ran when he heard that, bursting through the door and rushing into the nursery which was in the process of being turned into a proper bedroom. there were slight tears pricking at your eyes when you looked at him, “sorry, can you put her to sleep? s-she won’t stop crying…”

“it’s okay, it’s okay, i got it,” he assured, taking her off your hands and soothingly patting her on the back, “please stop crying, you’re breaking your momma’s heart.”

after a minute or so, her high-pitched wails gradually quieted down, falling asleep in his strong arms and allowing him to place her in her little bed which was newly constructed by him just a few days ago. you led him out of the room, being careful not to make any sudden noises so as to not wake her again, and returned to the living room where it all started.

“i’m sorry you had to do all that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your forehead in a poor attempt to ease the forming headache. “i really don’t know what i would have done without you…”

“don’t apologize, i’m happy to help… but i completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again…” he wasn’t sure why he brought it up when you didn’t even say anything about it, but perhaps he wanted to get the inevitable over with because this conversation would have happened sooner or later.

“what? why would i never want to see you again when you just saved me from my ex?” you asked, genuinely confused as you moved to pour out two glasses of wine and plopped down onto the couch with your head thrown back. “is it because of the claws? i don’t really care about that stuff— i mean wade runs around with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. besides, it’s not like you can’t control them, they only came out because you were trying to protect me…”

“well, yes, but—”

“logan, i really don’t care that you’re a mutant or a former killer or whatever— you’re a superhero who runs around in yellow spandex, fights evil, and is the only one who can get my daughter to sleep most of the time— i trust you.”

“... you do?”

“of course, i do,” you reach out and motion him to join you, leaning against his frame and feeling all of your stress dissipate at the contact. “i trust you with my life and you’ll always have a home here, i want you to know that..”

logan was silent for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard words along those lines. “i don’t know if you mean that…”

“of course, i do, why wouldn’t i? although…”

“although?”

“i… i don’t think i could handle being just friends for much longer.” you cringed at your own words, sounding like a fucking teenager who was confessing to her first love. something straight out of a cheesy romance movie, or as deadpool would say, straight out of a fanfiction written by a lonely teenager who is trying to move the plot along and finish up. “god, that was so stupid—”

“well, no one said we had to be ‘just friends.’”

you looked at him ludicrously, “really? do you mean that?”

“i mean… if you’re okay with an old man who has adamantium claws in his knuckles…”

“are you okay with a lady who’s a single mom?”

“i think mine is a lot worse than that. sweetheart,” he chuckled, returning to the light-hearted tone. “so… does that mean i can kiss you?” 

you hummed, “of course, you can.”

even with your spoken consent, he still seemed a little hesitant when his hand found its way to the back of your head and he stared deeply into your eyes. his gaze was honestly a bit overwhelming since you’ve never seen anyone else look at you that way before, making you wonder if this was how to felt to be truly desired as a person.

you leaned forward to finish the kiss for him, a quick peck at first, then a deeper one that carried all of the bottled-up feelings from the previous few months. it wasn’t anything too crazy, yet it felt like your very first kiss all over again, clumsy and inexperienced. when you finally separated from him, you pressed your nose against his and giggled, “spend the night?”

“i thought you would never ask.”

tag list: @natsukitakama @fandomxo00 @wolflover-20 @dannsparrow @honestlysublimecherryblossom @acescutejeans-1247 @burkayyy @hotmesshobbit

[deathbxnny]

this is going off my previous one! What about when Jinx finds them and saves them! Atleast Isha wasn’t there alone, she has reader! Now my mind is thinking of more shit-

(Previous part)

Your hand was holding onto the back of Isha's head as you cradled her in your arms carefully. The Enforcers weren't able to separate you two, especially not with the way the girl desperately clinged onto you in fear. And so, you were thrown into this musty, dark cell together. You could tell that she felt guilty and that she most likely felt awful at the mere idea of you being angry at her. Yet all you felt was worry.

"It's okay, don't be scared. I'm sure she will be here soon." You whispered into her hair in an attempt to calm her trembling body. But you weren't all too confident in your own words, admittedly. It had been hours, or maybe even days, since you had ended up here. Your hope was running out, and the fear crept up your body as a reminder of your failures. You should've kept an eye on Isha better. You should've stopped her from going to the rally. You should have just listened to Jinx when she told you to stay put, to not leave to anywhere without her. Why didn't you just listen? She could've gotten Isha herself just fine without being captured.

Head lulling back against the stone wall behind you, your eyes fluttered shut whilst your mind drifted away in an unintelligible sleep. You had fought the exhaustion until now, yet the head injury you've sustained was making it impossible to stay awake any longer. Pulling Isha closer protectively, you allowed yourself some rest. Your dreams were mangled, and nothing seemed recognizable. In the midst of it stood Jinx, angry and worried, reaching out to you yet still so far away. But then she said your name, loud and clear. And the shaking of your body followed.

"Hey! Wake up already. You're scaring me -" You blinked against the red lights, eyes meeting Jinx's familiar ones, which made you let out a relieved sigh. "Y-you're here... finally." You whispered, struggling against the bounds of pure pain and exhaustion, as she quickly pulled you into your arms, her brows furrowed. Weakly turning your head to the side, you saw Isha and a less than impressed Sevika stand there with a frown. "Their head injury isn't looking good. We need to get out of here." The strong woman huffed out, clearly perhaps feeling ever so slightly guilty for what had happened to you.

Nodding, Jinx picked you up with scary ease, as though you weighed absolutely nothing. Her brows were furrowed, and you knew she was struggling to keep it together at the sight of you. It just made the guilt in you worsen. "I'm sorry. I should have waited for you-" "No, it's fine, let's just leave already." She cut you off, clearly trying to preserve her sanity.

But things suddenly took a turn for the worst when the Enforcers came in to stop you. Yet it wasn't them that disturbed you. No, it was that odd, terrifying sound that emitted from the heavy doors to the jail cells. You and Isha locked eyes, and it made you wish you weren't this injured. She clearly wanted to hide in your arms, and it hurt. "What the hell is that..." Sevika whispered, and her answer came in the doors blowing off their hinges, which made everyone stand there in horror.

Through the red smoke and darkness, one could see the form of a horrifying beast emerging from the shadows, snarling and angry. You watched on as it sliced through the Enforcers like butter, leaving them behind in mangled messes of blood and body parts, until it reached you. Jinx had tried to shoot it with her gun, yet found it not working all too well when carrying another person. And seeing that things would most likely only get worse from here, she turned and looked at Sevika, an immideate understanding between the two forming. She had to handle this alone.

"Get them both out of here! Quick!" Jinx yelled, as she distracted the beast enough to give Sevika time to scoop you both up in one arm and run. It would've been impressive if you weren't so terrified. "NO WAIT, JINX! JINX!" You screamed, the adrenaline giving you the slightest boost to reach out to her, despite it being for nothing.

Your eyes met then, and she gave you a smile and wink before the elevator doors shut for good. Leaving her behind to what you believed was her sure death.

[slttygeto]

THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.

⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.

જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.

ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.

Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.

You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.

It’s because of me.

When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.

And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.

--

Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.

You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.

Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.

You were avoiding him.

“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Huh?”

“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.

“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.

“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.

You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.

“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.

“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”

“Did Satoru—“

“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.

“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.

“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.

“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.

“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.

“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”

“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.

“You’re being selfish.”

Selfish? You were being selfish?

You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.

“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.

“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.

“Baby, I didn’t—“

“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”

The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.

“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”

“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”

“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.

“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.

“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”

“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“

“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.

“Suguru—“

“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”

“Stop.” your lips quivers.

“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”

“You’re being mean, Sugu.”  

Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.

“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.

“What?”

“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?

This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.

You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.

--

Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.

He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.

And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.

“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.

He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.

“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“

“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”

Some space… So you were considering the break.

“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“

“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.

“Okay… can I still text you?”

“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.

“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.

“We’ll be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”

“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.

“Take care, Sugu.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― test drive ⭑.ᐟ

― the ways in which they drive you (crazy) ⋆⭒˚.⋆

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, choso x gn!reader, toji x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, the term passenger princess is used but is not gender specific, nicknames (baby, darling, my dear, love, doll), kissing, fluff, slight crack for some, jjk men and their driving habits (stay safe on the road guys jhdshdj) a/n: title is based on test drive by ariana grande and i wrote this to celebrate me getting my driver's license so yipeeee !!! this is much longer than i was expecting it to be (especially for a headcannon/drabble) so sorry for the delay on my behalf, as always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciate and much love from me to you all <33

gojo satoru fights with you over who gets to be passenger princess loves to take you out for spontaneous drives whenever and wherever that you begin to question if this might be a secret addiction or guilty pleasure of his.

(his real secret addiction is just you but it doesn't take a detective to figure that out)

"hop in!" he shouts as he arrives at your front door in a shiny white convertible. it seems that he's decided to whip out an old classic of his, though you can't deny that he keeps you on your toes whenever he pulls up in a new or different ride seemingly every time he picks you up.

you wonder to yourself what he does with all his other cars in that massive collection of his.

"we're going on a trip to the beach you've been telling me about for weeks and plus, i already booked a hotel suite for us." he announces eagerly and though his eyes are currently covered by a pair of black sunglasses, you know that they're practically glimmering with palpable excitement. he opens his hand towards you as his way of beckoning you to come along with him.

you take his hand and he pulls you towards his side to the point where you're almost resting atop his door before he presses his lips against your intertwined hands in a lingering kiss.

"toru, is this a cry for help? are you on the run from something?" you joke, a look of mild amusement on your features, and he rolls his eyes light-heartedly at you.

"please, baby?" he slides up his sunglasses so that they're perched up on his snowy white locks and looks up at you with those big puppy-dog eyes that you know you could never ever say no to no matter how ridiculous the request was.

you silently think over his proposition for a moment.

looking up to the sky, you notice that today is a particularly sunny day and despite the sun being smack dab in the middle of the sky, it also wasn't boiling hot on account of the light breeze which made this a special type of sunny day that was a once in while occurrence for summertime. to be fair, it had also been a while since you and satoru went out anywhere together on account of your clashing schedules so it wasn't necessarily the worst thing to be spending some time off with him.

(you also wouldn't mind the sight of him shirtless on the beach but that was a different conversation to be had)

you look back at him and after careful consideration on your behalf, decide to indulge in this whim of his.

"okay, fine but did you-"

"yep, i already made all the arrangements so it's all cleared up for the two of us." he cuts you off smoothly with a cheeky wink.

"i don't want you stressing about anything in that head of yours, alright?" as if to punctuate his point, satoru lightly taps on your forehead which earns him a small smile and a soft shove to the shoulder from you.

you quickly head in to grab some stuff from your place before returning outside and jumping into the passenger seat. he leaps out of his seat and over the hood of the car to open the door for you before you can even reach for the handle and you sink in comfortably into the expanses of the plush leather seat beneath you.

"you better make this worth it, mister." you remark playfully at him. he returns the smile on your face with one of his own as he leans over to place a deep kiss against your lips, taking his time to savour the taste of you on his tongue.

"trust me, baby. i'll make it worth your while."

geto suguru always makes you his designated passenger princess when driving. no matter what vehicle it is, be it a car, motorcycle, or even a bicycle (you're still not sure how he managed to do that), suguru has seemingly decided that the title of passenger princess belongs to you and only you.

he takes this so seriously that he even goes so far as to specifically reserve the front seat for you in any vehicle he's driving in and makes sure that you're the only one who can sit there. just ask satoru, who unfortunately had to learn that the hard way when he tried to call shotgun one time on a road trip and was chased off by suguru who went to the extent of blocking the door to the front seat until you arrived which he graciously opened the door for you whilst also sending satoru a warning stare.

now, this isn't because he doesn't trust your skills, he does wholeheartedly and would gladly put his life in your hands. it's just that he thinks that you deserve to relax and that you deserve the princess treatment at all times (his words, not yours).

of course, if you do want to drive, he'll let you but he always insists on helping you out in any way that he can even if it is the smallest things like clipping on your seatbelt for you before surprising you with a fleeting kiss against your cheeks, though the sensation is gone before you know it and you're left wondering if it really just happened.

he always does it in a way that's so subtle that by the time you notice, it's already too late and he just smiles at you with an oh-so-innocent look on his face that makes it impossible to even accuse him of any wrongdoing, although this wasn't really a wrongdoing in most senses of the word per se.

though, it seems that this time, you're able to catch him red-handed in the act.

as the car pulls into the parking spot, you make a move to reach for the handle to open the door on your side when suddenly, it seems that someone has apparently beaten you to the punch.

you pause for a moment as your brain attempts to catch up with what has apparently just transpired.

"sugu, wasn't my hand on there?" you ask, quickly flicking your eyes back and forth from where you were sure where your hand used to be and where suguru's hand was now residing.

"hmm?" he raises a curious eyebrow in your direction, as if completely oblivious to his own actions. "oh, i'm not sure what you're talking about, darling." he remarks, brushing off your concern in a nonchalant manner as he leans over to unbuckle your seatbelt for you.

"suguru." you chide, there's a warning edge to your words as you cross your arms at him. thinking about it now, you're definitely sure that it was suguru who moved your hand out of the way just so he could open it for you.

it's not that you were necessarily mad about him doing this, quite the opposite in fact as you can't deny the way he makes your heart flutter whenever he goes out of his way to treat you like royalty, but rather, you're more interested in finally being able to get a confession from the ever elusive geto suguru.

he stops for a second, as if to weigh up the options in his mind, before a small sigh escapes his lips as he reaches over to gently caress your cheek. "i'm just saying that why do you need to do something so small when i'm here to do it for you."

maybe it's the way you seemingly become putty in his hands or the velvety cadence of his voice that you're pretty sure could convince people to walk into a wall without them even realising or perhaps it's just him, but you find yourself hard-pressed to try and come up with any sort of rebuttal on your end so you settle for a silently 'humph' of defeat.

a soft chuckle escapes him at your response. he presses his lips against your temple before tilting his head ever so slightly sideways so he can get a better look at you. "if you really don't like it, i'll stop. but, if you don't mind, then just let me treat you, alright darling?"

nanami kento might just be the best (and most distracting) driving teacher you could ever ask for.

it wasn't that you didn't know how to drive, you did, but rather, you wanted to get better at it because you always felt a slight pang of guilt whenever you noticed how he would occasionally try to fight off a small yawn when you're in the car with him. you know how much his job drains him already so you're honestly just worried that he might be overexerting himself when he should be trying to take the time to catch up on some much-needed rest instead.

when you originally approached him with this idea, he tried to reassure you that there was nothing to worry about and that he was fine.

"really, my dear, it's no trouble. you know i enjoy driving you around." he insists, an arm curling up around your figure as you nestle into his embrace one friday evening on your living room couch.

"that's not the point, kento." you pout slightly as you gaze up at him from your position. you gently run your finger underneath his eyes as you take in just how dark his eyebags appear to be. "just think of it as me wanting to help lighten some of your burdens when you're tired, that's all."

he rests his chin upon the crown of your head, silently mulling over your request for a moment in his head before agreeing. "alright then, but don't think i'll go easy on you, dear."

you giggle softly at his answer, brushing off his words as a joke before you lean in for a kiss.

you should have really paid attention then.

true to his words, it seems that kento was really making true to his promise as you have never met someone this meticulous and so dedicated to all the small details when it came to driving in general. hell, this might even be more difficult than when you first took your driving lessons to get your license.

it also doesn't really help that he might be one of the most distracting teachers you've ever had as well as you've never had to fight this hard to focus until now when he's reaching over to smoothen out any wrinkles that might have appeared on your clothes because of your seat belt and brushing his hands against yours when you reach for the gear shift.

"you have to pay attention, my dear." he reminds you as he delicately tilts your face so that you're facing forward at the road instead of stealing glances at him. "eyes on the road, not me."

a shaky breath leaves your lips as you try to concentrate on driving, just like he says, but you're beginning to wonder if this is a test of your strength as a person instead when his large hands envelop yours as he helps readjust your hands to the correct position on the steering wheel.

at least when you do something well, you're rewarded with a kiss from him so he definitely understands how to incentivise you even more which is a strong strategy in your books that has no complaints.

when you decide to surprise him one day by picking him up from work, the look on his face is absolutely priceless when you roll down the window and he realises that it's you. once inside the car, he laces his fingers with yours as he brings your hand up to his lip for a soft kiss.

"you've passed with flying colours." he congratulates you, a smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you with utter adoration in his eyes.

although, there will forever be a part of you that misses being able to experience teacher nanami kento. maybe you can convince him to teach you something else.

kamo choso needs to have his hand on you at all times and this extends to driving as well.

it was like a mental checklist that he would run through every time the two of you got into the car, no matter who was driving. doors locked? check. nothing blocking the car? check. all mirrors are angled correctly? check. his hand on you? he gives your hand a cursory glance and quickly intertwines his fingers with yours before he squeezes it softly, soaking in the feeling of your hand enveloped in his. a satisfied hum leaves his lips as he checks off another box in his head.

if it was up to him, you two would just stay home all the time so he could remain glued to you forever but unfortunately for him, it seems that the world doesn't agree with his fantasies.

you never really questioned this habit of his, rather just writing it off as another one of his adorable quirks that you were privy to as his significant other, much like how he likes to trail behind you like a lost puppy whenever you walk anywhere together or how he insists that you should wear his hoodies since they're much better at helping you stay warm even though you both bought hoodies at the same store. small things, like that you know?

however, one day, it seems that your curiosity has seemingly gotten the best of you as you decide to pull off a harmless prank on him to just see what would happen if there were to be a snag in this routine of his.

when the two of you get into the car that day, choso runs through his usual checklist before starting the car and when he gets to the specific step involving you, you evade his attempts to hold your hand. the moment his hand is met with the cold emptiness of air instead of the warmth of yours, he freezes up for a second as his mind tries to comprehend what just happened.

"did i do something?" there's an immediate switch in his demeanour as he almost visibly shrinks and shrivels up in his seat like a cartoon flower that has been deprived of water and sunlight. his voice is delicately soft, as if scared to break this newfound silence between the two of you with one wrong move on his behalf, with a small pout on his lips that reminds you of a kicked puppy.

with one look at his face, you can feel your resolve start to waver and you're extremely tempted to throw your little prank out of the window to go and comfort him and reassure him that he's done nothing wrong but you steel yourself in an attempt to hold your ground.

"you didn't do anything, cho." you reply plainly, trying to keep your voice as relaxed as possible to avoid giving anything away.

you're pretty sure his pout gets even poutier, which you weren't sure could even possibly happen, at your response as he asks again in a thinly veiled plea. "then why won't you let me hold your hand when i drive?"

"well, why do you want to do it in the first place."

"because it's my good luck charm." without even missing a beat, he replies in a tone so matter of fact, you can hardly find any good reason to protest.

"that's all?" you probe, curiosity eagerly egging you on.

"well, i also like being reminded that you're right to me."

"you could just look at me, cho." you giggle softly. he shakes his head at you.

"yeah, but it's not the same as holding you. i like feeling you in my hands. so, can i have your permission to hold your hand?" he reaches his hand out towards you earnestly as he anxiously awaits your response.

you lean over to give him a quick peck on the lips before breaking into a small smile, seemingly satisfied with his heartfelt words, as you take the initiative to entwine your fingers with his. this earns you a soft grin and blush from choso who eagerly peppers your face with kisses with barely-contained joy and relief from being able to hold you again.

after this, you sometimes decide to surprise choso by making the first move to reach for him instead of vice versa and his heart always skips a beat as he tries and fails to fight off a smile whenever you do.

fushiguro toji scares you slightly with the way that he drives. hear me out, that's not to say that he isn't good, he's a great driver truth be told (but you would never say that to his face because you could just imagine the smirk on his face if you did), but he does

to be fair, toji is far from being a novice driver so it makes sense that he's comfortable enough in his abilities to be able to pull off such risky manoeuvres in your eyes but you can't help how your heart skips a beat or two when he starts pulling moves straight from movies like fast & furious.

whenever you lightly chide him for making such moves like how he effortlessly weaves his way around tight corners and such, he always brushes off your concerns with ease.

"doll, do you think that i'd ever risk doing anything stupid when i have precious cargo in here hmm?" he quips back at you with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his lips slightly upturned in that classic crooked smirk of his that makes your heart flutter in more ways than one.

you think for a second about how you want to wipe off that grin with a kiss, to give him a taste of his own teasing, but then you're reminded that you don't wanna give him this victory so you turn off to the side with a small huff leaving your lips. he chuckles to himself under his breath at your antics before leaning over to your side of the car.

"no comment, doll?" he teases. you don't take the bait but you can feel your cheeks rising with heat with how close he is to you to the point you can feel his breath against your neck.

after seeing that you're not budging, toji leans back into his seat though not before intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. he lets go of your hand shortly after and reassuringly squeezes your thigh with his calloused hand.

"have some more faith in me, would 'ya?" he hums and you expect him to let go of you when he starts to drive again, but he doesn't and his grip on you remains there for the entire ride and the next ride after and so forth to the point where it becomes an unspoken habit for him to do so.

he does take a bit more caution when driving now, which he can tell is much to your relief when he notices that you seemingly have much more free time to try and tease him when he's driving for your own amusement.

but after all, old habits die hard and sometimes, they slip through every now and then like when he suddenly pulls off a rapid turn but this time, you can't deny the adrenaline rush that comes along with it.

fushiguro megumi has the most infuriating driving habits in the way that they're also the most attractive driving habits you've ever seen someone have.

you might be biased on account that he's your boyfriend but put anyone in your shoes and in that close proximity to him when he leans over the console to check your seatbelt for you and brushes against you or how he never fails to catch your eyes when adjusting the rear-view mirror and you're sure that they would have the same reaction as you which would be a blushing mess.

ironically, he also drives you up a wall with how oblivious he's acting to the effect it has on you. it has to be an act right? you think to yourself. there's no way that he can be so oblivious to the fact that whenever he looks at you, your face is always flushed red and you're sure that he can't truthfully buy your weak attempts at brushing off his concerns as you stutter an excuse out.

probably one of his worst offences in your book was when he would roll up his sleeve before putting his arm behind your seat to get a better view while reversing. you couldn't even try to logically come up with an explanation for why he does this since no way having his sleeves rolled up affects his ability to do this in any way, shape or form. plus, his car has a rearview camera on the dash monitor so he doesn't even need to look back like this!

well, there's a part of you that knows that you shouldn't probably complain that much since it gives you a good excuse to stare unabashedly at the way his lean muscles flex slightly with each move he makes. but still, the point remains that you have to try and pretend like you're perfectly fine despite

this has to be some form of torture right? you think to yourself, being able to only stare and not do anything else because he's busy driving and you don't want to distract him but yet you're being constantly subjected to stuff like this. you try and fight the growing red blush that seeks to consume your face as you continue to test the limits of your own resolve.

it seems that you're far too lost in your own head and have completely zoned out when suddenly, a voice interrupts your train of thought. "are you looking at my arms?"

at megumi's question, you're instantly brought back into reality as you realise that you had zoned out whilst blatantly staring at his exposed arms and therefore was just caught red handed in the act of shamelessly ogling.

you can feel a strong sense of embarrassment starting to set in as your mind runs through hundreds of different possible responses to his question that range from outright denial to a full-on detailed rant on the way some of his driving habits make you feel before you finally decide to settle on a simple "yes."

a beat of silence passes between the two of you before megumi awkwardly attempts to clear his throat as he brings a hand up to run through his hair.

"o-oh, okay." he stutters out as he tries to turn his attention back to the wheel.

neither of you speak any more on the topic for the rest of the journey though, there seems to be a shift in megumi as he seemingly becomes much more observant towards the apparent effect he has on you when he drives and although you can't confirm it, it also seems that now his actions are much more intentional instead of accidental as he'll purposefully linger on you now rather as if to draw out your reaction rather than pull away normally like before.

you're also sure that there's a ghost of smile on his lips when you do get flustered because of him.

however, he can't hide the fact that the tips of his ears burn bright red whenever he catches you staring now.

okkotsu yuuta loves to shower you with all the love and attention he can offer you at all times. if this was a job, he would be the employee of the month every single month and he would never fail to clock in for his shift. it's not his fault if he gets so distracted by this that he forgets that he also has to do other things as well.

this is probably also why yuuta isn't a very good multitasker when you're next to him.

as much as you love it and him, you had to strike a compromise with him that he could hold it in until you were at a red light in order to make sure that one, his attention would stay on the road and not you, and two, you two would stop getting honked at or angrily stared at by the other drivers on the road who were unfortunate enough to be in the same lane.

whenever the light does turn green and he has to return his attention back to driving, he always pulls away with the most regretful look on his face and you can't help but picture him as a little sad puppy whenever he looks at you with those large, seemingly bottomless eyes that threaten to pull you in whenever you stare at them too long.

you're currently stopped at a red light, a surprisingly long one at that, and it seems that yuuta is fully taking advantage of this opportunity by reaching over the console and capturing your lips in his with such vigour you might think he's been deprived of your touch for the last century (not that you're complaining, of course)

you hear the beeping of the traffic light coming in from your right side, informing you that the light is going to change soon and you break apart for a breath of air to quickly inform him. "yuu, the light's gonna turn green soon."

"just a few more seconds, love." he murmurs against your lips. he has his fingers hooked around your chin as if to hold you in place so he can savour the taste of your just a bit longer. it's clear that he has no intentions to pull away with how his other hand is slowly snaking its way around your waist.

"yuu," you huff out as your eyes flick to the rear window, taking stock of the seemingly endless line of cars waiting behind yours. "i'm pretty sure the car behind us is honking at us to go."

almost as if right on cue, there's the loud screech of a car horn from behind you which goes on for what is probably longer than necessary but yuuta gets the message as he quickly scrambles back into his seat with a small yelp of surprise escaping from his lips and the car jumps back to life as he presses down on the accelerator.

he offers you a sheepish look and you roll your eyes light-heartedly before leaning over to his side to place a chaste kiss against his cheek. the tips of his ears burn bright red the moment your lips grace his skin and he almost visibly deflates when the sensation proves to be a fleeting one.

you can almost see the cogs turning in his mind as he scans the road ahead for any traffic lights or intersections and you know that he's already hoping that they turn red as soon as he gets closer to them. he squeezes your hand twice before returning to the steering wheel and you can't help but smile to yourself at him.

at least you have something to look forward to at red lights now.

itadori yuji makes it his personal job to make every drive with him the most fun drive you could ever have.

originally, it started out with him trying to find a way to make driving more enjoyable for you when you were practising for your driver's test since he knew how much it stressed you out and it hurt his heart to see you so panicked.

if it was up to him, he wouldn't mind being your personal driver 24/7 but he also knew that this was a really big milestone for you and you were insistent on learning this life skill and so it became his life mission to make driving enjoyable for you in any way, shape or form that he can.

of course, with any new thing, there was a slight learning curve for yuji, especially since he was going from what he was used to with his role as the driver to a passenger, but soon enough he became an expert in this to the point where it was almost like he was a mind reader with how well he could anticipate your wants and needs.

carpool karaoke? he's already got a playlist loaded up with all your favourite hits on there. feeling peckish? yuji has a stash of snacks that he knows you love ready in the trunk and is always willing to hop out at a local gas station and go on a late-night shopping spree with you. a bit tired? he's got a pillow and blanket with your name on it in the back seat and he's ready to take over from you at any second.

even when you're not driving, he still tries his best to take care of you whilst also paying attention to the road and although sometimes the balance is a bit more towards you, you don't mind jumping in to help a bit here and there.

when you do try and thank him for his efforts, he always brushes it off with ease as he insists that he's only fulfilling his duties as your boyfriend and that he doesn't need any thanks for doing something as simple as this.

whatever you need, yuji's prepared and ready to help you out in any way that he can and all he could ever ask for in return is to see that smile that he loves so much on your face.

after each drive with him, you always remember to pepper his face with kisses before leaning in for a peck against his lips, which inevitably turns into something much longer as he chases after the fleeting feeling of your lips on his, as your own way of thanking him.

[notjoelmiller]

don't mind me.. just thinking about vampire!ghost at 10am

1.8k words (beware... a little bit of blood, alcohol, vampirey stuff and la tension sexuelle)

...

Captain Price warned you. The day you transferred onto the team, he pulled you aside, and in an utterance quieter than anything you’ve heard from him since, he told you that the Lieutenant would take some getting used to. 

“He’s a good man,” Price said, “Just peculiar.”

Read between the lines, sergeant: he’s an asshole. It isn’t anything new, and it certainly won’t become an excuse. You worked hard to get on this team, and some weirdo won’t get in the way of that.

So you prepare for the worst, and… you end up with the best? Lieutenant Riley turns out to be the best superior you’ve had the honor of serving under. He’s not a friend, not by any means, but he’s efficient on the field and cordial off of it, a luxury you’ve rarely been afforded.

However, Price’s words ring true. The man is just as his call sign suggests– a ghost. He barely socializes with the team, always (politely) declining to eat meals with you all. He makes himself scarce during the day, only appearing for training and missions wearing a skull mask. Hell, you’ve never seen him without the damn mask.

Despite his peculiarities, you can see why he’s made the team. He’s built like nobody you’ve ever seen– nearly six and a half feet of pure muscle. And the man is efficient. He lurks in the shadows, waiting to strike, and when he does… The man has slaughtered his way out of one too many impossible odds. It’s a pleasure to fight by his side. You find yourself missing him whenever he’s disappeared. The longing is unusual, unfamiliar, especially considering the allusiveness of the lieutenant. Yet when he’s there, working with you on training or missions, things just go better. It’s as though he understands you on some incomprehensible level. He picks up on things nobody else ever has– when you’re fatigued, hurt, or just generally pissed.

Unfortunately, today was one of the many days where Ghost lived up to his namesake. And what a day it was for him to be missing. After a grueling training session, you were tasked with a mountain of paperwork. All was going well until you accidentally misplaced about half of your completed paperwork, leading to an overzealous recruit dumping them into the paper shredder during your lunch break. While you were happy to give the kid one hell of a talking to, the damage was done and you were practically back to square one.

You don’t finish up until almost midnight. The urge to sleep is strong, but your frayed nerves are stronger. If you want to get some shut-eye before the sun rises, you need a drink ASAP. So straight past your room you go into the common room kitchen. Except, you’re not alone. 

A man leans over the counter, setting down an empty glass. His blond hair is so light it nearly blends in with his translucent, pale skin. You’ve never seen him before, surely you would have noticed if you have. With skin that white, he must glow like a damn disco ball in the sun. The man wipes his lips with the back of his hand. It comes back smudged with red. So it seems like he had the same bright idea as you.

“Care to share?” You ask, startling him. He straightens to full height, and your heart skips a beat. He didn’t look all that large while hunched over the counter. Now? He’s built like a damn brick wall, tall and broad in a way that’s even rare among the men and women you work with.

The man gazes at you with wide brown eyes lined with purple bags. They dart behind you before he relaxes a bit, slumping back down.

“Share?” He whispers. His voice raises your hackles, something about the timber of the sound, even in a whisper, that awakens something in your mind.

You motion to his wine glass. He holds the stem tightly. You wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered. “The wine, pal.”

The man tenses. “Pal?”

“Pal,” you repeat.

“You’ve never called me that before,” says the man as he reaches in the cabinet for another glass.

You frown. “Have we met?”

The man’s face stretches into an unamused pout, “Really, Sergeant?” The word curls around his tongue in such a familiar way, yet it’s nearly impossible to place.

Just nearly.

You know that voice well. Typically it’s barking out orders in your earpiece and—

Shit, you just disrespected your Lieutenant.

“Christ—” Ghost flinches. You compartmentalize his dislike of blaspheme for when you’re not profusely apologizing to him. “Ghost, I didn’t recognize you without—“

“It’s alright,” Ghost looks through the cabinets until he finally finds the one with the 141’s not-so-secret alcohol supply. “Wine, you said? White or red?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

Ghost frowns at you until you motion for his emptied glass still filled with the crimson liquid. His lips part into an ‘o’. “‘F course."

Ghost pours a glass and slides it your way. “Can’t sleep?”

You nod. “You?”

“Something like that.”

You raise your glass. “Cheers?”

Ghost taps his glass against yours with a satisfying ding.

“You know,” you say after a sip, “We haven’t gotten the chance to talk since I joined— one-on-one, I mean.”

“That we have not,” Ghost muses. “I suppose you have questions.”

“That I do,” your eyes follow your finger, tracing the rim of the glass. “You know, Price gave me a warning when I joined.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, said you were a weirdo.”

“‘Weirdo’?” Ghost laughs. It’s surprisingly warm. You get a flash of his smile for the first time. His teeth are blindingly bright, but your attention is drawn to his canines. They’re unusually large— long —their points extending long and dangerous. “Is that what we’re calling it these days,” he muses.

“It’s not totally crazy to say, you know?” Ghost tilts his head, another sharp smile pulling at his lips, “I mean– this is the first time I’ve seen your face.”

“I’ve got a skin condition.” You raise a skeptical eyebrow. Ghost continues, “I get burnt easily.”

You frown, “Burnt?”

“Sunburn.”

“You’re joking.”

Ghost grimaces, and you realize that he is in fact not joking. You bark out a laugh, and before you consider the possibility that Ghost may actually have a medical condition, he starts laughing too.

You’re not looking, too busy laughing about your poor brick-shithouse of a lieutenant getting burnt to see that you’re about to slam your hand down on your wine glass. And you do, the glass knocking over and spilling wine all over the counter. And, as though the universe is reminding you that luck is not on your side today, the glass shatters, a shard managing to cut through one of your fingers.

A string of expletives escapes your lips as you instinctually avert your eyes. The feeling of the glass slicing through your skin echoes in your mind. Thinking about it causes you more distress than the actual pain.

“Let me look,” Ghost grumbles. He reaches for your hand, but you pull it back, examining it. A long but shallow cut mars your pointer finger. It oozes blood which drips down your knuckle and between your fingers. 

“It’s fine,” you gasp, “I’ll just grab a band-aid.”

“No,” Ghost wraps his hand around your wrist. It’s not particularly hard, but the shock of his cold touch has you gasping. He pulls your hand to his face– his lips –and before you know it, your bloodied finger is in his mouth.

“Ghost, what the hell are you–”

Your lieutenant honest-to-God moans around your finger. His tongue swirls languidly around the digit in his mouth, like he’s savoring something. You suppose he is– the taste of you. Ghosts’s eyes are pulled shut, brows furrowed as he completely ignores your protests. Though, your protests aren’t exactly passionate, rather halfhearted formalities in case any others decide to wander into the common room this late at night.

He draws your finger out slowly, his tongue keeping contact with it until it can’t any more. You don’t draw your hand away from his grasp, instead letting it stand between you two, Ghost’s grip still iron on your wrist.

The room spins around you. You blame it on blood loss, ignoring the fact that you’ve lost way more blood in way less time. A cut certainly couldn’t bring you down. Your lieutenant however–

“Better?” Ghost asks. He moves closer, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep inhale almost like he’s smelling you. The thought makes you dizzier, a recessed part of your brain running wild at the thought of such a primitive act.

“You… you just–” You cut yourself off, a cross between a sigh and a whimper bubbling from your throat. 

It sounds like a moan. 

Maybe it was a moan. 

It definitely was a moan.

Ghost’s free hand comes to cup your cheek, tilting your gaze back up to his. You hadn’t realized, but you were staring at his bloodstained lips. “Darling,” he coos, “Answer me.”

The words tumble from your mouth before you can even think about them: “Much better.” They ring true. Your finger doesn’t hurt a bit, even though it was very much just sliced open on a glass.

Ghost brings your hand to his lips again. You think he’s going to put your finger in his mouth again. Instead, he presses it against your lips, placing a kiss on the cut. He lets go of your wrist, but before your hand can fall to your side, his tongue darts out from between his lips, giving the cut one last kitten lick.

Ghost’s lips are moving. Between them, you catch glimpses of his canines. Why are they so long? They’re lined with red blood– your blood –filling the crevices between his teeth. His tongue runs over his teeth, wiping them clean of you. Your lips part, your own tongue running over your own teeth in mimicry.

“Darling?” His mouth is closed, lips pursed.

“Huh?”

He’s staring at you, the bags under his eyes seeming to have lessened. It’s just the lighting, that’s all.

“I said,” Ghost’s thumb traces your cheekbone. You feel like you might faint. “Go bandage that.”

You blink, mouth forming an 'o'. “Okay,” you barely get the word out as Ghost lets his hands fall from you. Your feet are carrying you backwards as you stutter, “B-bandage. Got it, Ghost.”

You’re falling over your feet as you stumble away, nodding profusely and uttering bandage, bandage, bandage under your breath.

“Simon,” he calls, and you stop, turning to him. “It’s Simon. I’m not just a ghost, you know.”

A ghost. No he certainly is not. Not anymore. Your finger is stinging, and when you look down, it’s bleeding again. You’re tempted to point it out to Ghost– to Simon –just to see what he’ll do.

“Good night,” your bloody finger twitches involuntarily, “Simon.”

[burreauxsworld]

Locked In (1) | Joe Burrow

Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader

Exboyfriend!joshallen x Exgirlfriend!reader

•••

Being in the spotlight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Yeah, there’s glitz and glamour and getting to live out your dream you’ve had since you were a little girl, but deep down you’re still human, with normal human emotions. Emotions that are completely normal, even when people tell you to never show them. You honestly were doing so well considering the circumstances you were left with. A completely shattered heart, an album that had just dropped (full of love songs written about the person that shattered your heart), and a sold out stadium tour that would take place over the entire summer. You were thriving. Slowly but surely, your heart mended itself back together every time you took the stage. Nothing could stand in your way.

Then football season rolled around and people started noticing that you weren’t in your normal spot, in a suite at Highmark Stadium. Supporting the man you believed you would spend the rest of your life with. Even had the ring to prove it. But it all came crashing down the night you walked in on him in bed with his ex from college. It absolutely crushed you. Especially because Josh Allen seemed like the perfect guy. He treated you well, showed you off in public, spoke about you in post-game interviews, the whole nine yards. You never would have saw this coming in a million years. But it did, and it felt like the worst day of your life.

Pre season wasn’t too bad, people just assumed you were busy. Then week one came and you still weren’t there, and people started to question things. Headlines quickly made their way into the world, it was mentioned in sports news all over the country, and you and Josh had started to trend on Twitter. It was all mixed feelings. Mostly just men that were happy to see you go, the women tearing Josh down, and some fans that were devastated about the split. You never commented on the topic. You figured you’d let it die down, and at some point it would be addressed in a normal adult way.

Josh had other plans.

He’d gone on a podcast for barstool sports, and when asked about the topic he didn’t shy away from lying to the entire world. “We both have pretty busy lives. She was going to be starting her tour and didn’t really have a lot of time on her hands. There’d be times where she’d go days without reaching out to me. I just couldn’t live that way anymore”

You were dumbfounded. Completely and utterly baffled. “Brittany and I reconnected last season when we played the Chiefs. It had been such a long time since I’d seen her. We kept in touch. But assure you, there was no crossover. I’d never even think about cheating on a woman”

Blow number two. The cheating had went on far longer than you’d realized, and right under your nose. You were too busy catching up with Taylor Swift in the suite to notice that your fiancé met up with his ex. “I think I’m the happiest I’ve been in a while. I can’t speak for Y/N but I can honestly say for myself that I checked out of that relationship a year before it ended. I could not physically live that way anymore”

You couldn’t watch anymore. You powered your phone off and threw it to the end of your couch. Tears streaming down your face, your heart feeling like it shattered all over again. He’d just proposed to you in July of last year, the two of you started planning your wedding for the off season. It was all a lie.

You thought about retaliating. Putting him on blast the same way he did you, but that wouldn’t make you feel better. At this point, you weren’t sure what would make you feel better, but you knew you couldn’t be sad over him anymore. You needed to pick yourself back up.

•••

2 days later

You laughed hysterically as you threw your head back. When you realized your management team wasn’t laughing with you, you slowly stopped laughing. “Oh you guys are serious?” You question, dumbfounded. “Absolutely not. I’m not stepping foot into another football game for the rest of my life” you say firmly. “Y/N, it’s just to sing the national anthem, and then you can leave. You don’t have to stay for the entire game” your manager, Ryan, tells you with hope in his voice.

“And what reason am I going to give the media for leaving? That I was a heartbroken little child so I couldn’t stay? That’ll do more harm than good and you know it” you rant, letting out a sigh. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” You question, and put your head down when Ryan makes a face.

“It’s out of my hands. The record label won’t produce your album if you say no”

“When and where?” You say, reluctantly. “Sunday, October 6th, and in Cincinnati. This is the first AFC North divisional. There will be a lot of viewers and attendees already but you singing the national anthem would raise those numbers. The NFL is paying you very well to do this, plus you have a private suite with your name on it if you would like to stay,” Ryan explains, not tearing his eyes from you. He knew how hard this would be for you. He hated even having to ask you to do this.

“I’ll be there. But only because the future of my album rides on this. The NFL literally makes me sick to my stomach right now” you rant, rolling your eyes. “You can’t let one guy deter you from your passion of football. You loved football even before he who shall not be named. Besides, I will be there the entire time, and so will Megan. Megan is kick ass at what she does. All this Voldemort nonsense is gonna be put behind us. Clean slate, Y/N/N” Ryan assures you, and you crack a smile. “Voldemort?” You question.

“Oh yeah, he sucks. He’s lucky you’re giving him the grace that you are, and that you held me back from beating his ass that night” Ryan rants, and you laugh. Grateful that not only is he your manager, but one of your best friends. “But seriously, I’ll be there, next to you the entire day. And a little birdie told me you have some fans on the Bengals. Who knows, you may find a hotter guy that’ll be an upgrade from shit-for-brains” Ryan teases, and you scoff.

“I doubt it. I’ve sworn off athletes. Especially ones that play professional football”

“You say that now,” Ryan winks as he leaves the room, and you roll your eyes, yet again.

•••

Sunday October 6th, 2024

You heard the whispers as you walked past people. The judgmental comments about you neglecting your relationship, how you were the reason for its demise. The awful things people were saying about you, and screaming at you, almost made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. The worst ones, were the looks of sympathy you got from the women in the stadium. You knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

“Ryan, I don’t know if I can do this. They all hate me” you stress, and he’s already shaking his head at you. “They don’t hate you-“

“Slut!”

“Seriously?” You say, with a flat tone. “Okay, so some macho men are just mad that you’re here. Who cares? Y/N, your career is literally riding on this”

“I can get a new label” you retort and Ryan sighs. “Y/N, you got this. You’ve literally dealt with so much worse than this-“

“Y/N, you’re on in 10” an NFL official says, walking past the two of you. You feel like your throat is closing up. There’s a lump that wouldn’t go away. In all the years you’ve been performing for big crowds, this one had you nervous. “Josh turned me into a social pariah when it comes to the NFL. He literally blamed me for everything, Ryan. I shouldn’t be here” you rant, tears brimming your eyes. “You absolutely deserve to be here. And for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been upset if you spoke your truth. Damage control is my job, let me worry about that. You just go out there and sing your heart out” another voice chimes in, and you turn your head to see Megan, your publicist.

“It’s time,” Ryan says. “Y/N, keep your head held high. You can do this. I’ll be right over on the Bengals sideline waiting for you to finish” Ryan assures you, as the three of you walk toward the opening to the field. Here goes nothing.

•••

After The Game

You should’ve known that staying at the game would mean Ryan would convince you to go to the after party. Although the game ended in a Ravens win, the team still seemed to be in good spirits. A lot of them were actually a lot of fun to be around. You were originally invited by Ja’Marr Chase, who made a point to come up to the suite and invite you personally. Letting you know that he and a few other guys were big fans, though part of you thinks he was just being nice.

You came in and conversed with him and a few other guys before making your way to the bar, then to an empty booth in the corner of the room. Ryan was mingling with some of the coaches and Megan decided not to attend the party, so you were pretty much left to your own devices. You nursed your dirty shirley as you scrolled through twitter. A lump forming in your throat at the harsh things being said about you.

“You really shouldn’t look at that stuff. I’ve learned that the hard way”

Your head snapped up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, as the couch dipped next to you. “I hope this seat isn’t taken, though you’ve been sitting by yourself for the last half hour. Not that I was watching like a creep. I promise. I just got tired of standing at the bar” the deep voice rambled. “You’re okay. The seats not taken” you say, a small smile gracing your features.

“I’m just not very popular at the moment” you admit, taking another sip of your drink. “You played really well today, by the way. If you ask me, the Bengals had that in the bag” you say, changing the subject and he scoffs. “Always room for improvement,” he says, sipping his drink. “I’m Joe, by the way” he says, extending his hand to you.

“Y/N,”

“And since we’re voicing opinions, you didn’t deserve to be dragged down in the media. I’m not sure what actually happened, and by no means am I asking you to tell me, but I think it should have stayed private. Josh seemed like a nice guy, but that was a low blow” Joe says, not looking at you, as he yet again sips his drink. You frowned at the mention of Josh, and sank back against the couch. “Thanks, I guess,” you mutter, bringing your glass up to your lips. Joe looks over at you, and mentally face-palms.

“I’m so sorry. I overstepped. I shouldn’t have commented on something I know nothing about,” he says, a sense of urgency in his tone. “I literally came over here with liquid courage, with the intention of getting to know you and I fucked it up by bringing up your ex. I’m such an idiot” Joe rants, leaning back against the couch. You look over at him, a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Joe, it’s okay. You were trying to make conversation-“

“But I could’ve asked like what your favorite color is, not brought up your ex” Joe says, internally beating himself up. “It’s yellow” you answer, and he looks over at you confused. “My favorite color is yellow” you say, and he smiles. “Let’s start over. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you say, extending your hand with a smile.

“I’m Joe Burrow. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Is it a Dark Day? - Cole Caufield

Word Count - 1.9k

Summary - For the first time since you started dating Cole, your depression seems to be coming back to kick you in the ass. Scared of how Cole will react, you do the only logical thing and pull away.

Warnings - depression, the effects of depression, executive functioning issues, but ends in fluff.

Authors Note: This the first part of a series I plan on writing where I take one mental health issue or any type of disorder and pick a player to write about how they would react if their significant other had it. If you have any ideas for future ones or future players please send me an ask. As always thank you for reading and sorry for not posting much lately. 💜

Let me love you masterlist main masterlist

Sometimes your brain likes to remind you that you were in fact not a normal happy person. It was an act that you’ve learned to master over the years, sometimes you're such a good actor you even fool yourself. Until your brain reminds you that you are in fact an actor. Someone who plays a part, and it will happen in a flash. Feeling as if you're having a good day, and then suddenly you hear a song that reminds you of something and you start to feel that exhausted and craving your bed. Or you will be out with friends and they remind you of something they find funny but it only reminds you of how much you were struggling at the time. Although the worst one was when you don’t even know the trigger, you could have been having a great time and then suddenly you will be on your couch for the next three days rotting away. 

The worst part was this time, it’s almost like you felt the signs but ignored it. It started with the fact that it had been a stressful week at work, then you felt tired all the time, you found yourself being late to work simply because you couldn’t get yourself out of bed. Sadly, you were used to this popping up every once in while, knowing it was inevitable to get this all too familiar sadly almost welcoming feeling in your head. It’s like you had a brain fog come over and no matter what you did you couldn’t shake the feeling. But this time was different from all the others, this time you were dating the actual definition of a very hyper individual who always had some joke to say or a smile on his face. Cole was quickly becoming one of your favorite human beings but you didn’t want him to see you like this where you haven’t even taken a shower in 2 days. Cole was one of those people that radiated sunshine and it made you sink further into your couch thinking about how he would react to you right now. Again, your brain makes you think that he would judge you like others have for when your brain made you hate yourself. Thankfully, Cole was on a roadie so what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

Knowing that you should probably answer Cole’s messages or answer one of his many facetime calls but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. Somehow during the last couple days, your mind seemed to alter your perception of time. Thinking that Cole would still be on his roadie for at least another day. But suddenly you heard banging on your apartment door. 

“Baby?! Open the door please.” Cole pleaded on the other side of the door. Hearing his voice shocked you to your core, part of you wanted to open the door and tackle him. Allowing yourself to feel his comforting warmth hoping that some of it would make you feel even a tiny bit better. The rest of you were screaming to pull yourself more into the hoodie that you were wearing, pulling the blankets higher up to hide your body from the world. Letting your emotions overtake you when you realized you were wearing Cole’s hoodie because you wanted him more than anything 3 days ago when you started your couch rotting. It’s funny how time can change things, because nothing could get you up now and walk 30 feet to go open your apartment door. 

Cole’s pleas and banging didn’t stop, “baby please! Tell me what I did.” he begged through the door. “y/n?” he said much softer than before, you could barely hear it from where you were hiding in your living room. “Please open up or I’m gonna use my key you gave me for emergencies.” The tears that were lightly streaming down your face now full on ugly crying. Of course that was the moment Cole decided to enter your apartment. 

Hearing the door shut behind him as he entered your apartment. “Love where are you?” he asked, before he noticed what appeared to be the shape of your body on the coach. Once Cole did notice you, it was like he was on his knees in front of the sectional in seconds, even though he was on the other side of the apartment. “Mamas you awake, my love?” he asked gently as you felt him taking his palm and rub comforting circles all down your side. As your body registered his voice and processed words and touched your silent sobs became very much more real and loud. 

“Hey shhh babygirl whats wrong?” he asked as his other hand not rubbing circles now your back went to grab the edge of the blanket. In a quiet voice Cole spoke his next words very carefully.  “Honey, baby I'm gonna remove the blanket okay.” 

His voice was telling you that he wasn’t asking but you didn’t care as you started to protest. “No no don’t” your voice started to crack “no I don’t want you to.” As you grabbed the blanket to keep it from moving. 

“Why not?” you could tell in his voice that he was feeling hurt. 

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” softly you admit not sure if your confession was more of admitting to Cole you didn’t want him to see you or confirming what your body was telling you earlier. 

His voice barely over a whisper “what? Did I hurt you? Baby you haven’t answered a single one of my texts in 2 days, I spent most of today trying to not panic as I called your phone. Please baby let me see if you're okay?” Hearing his voice on the last few words and how he seemed to be fighting his own emotions. Feeling as if your own heart broke at that moment, the last thing you wanted to do was bring Cole down with you. 

“You're gonna judge me.” you mumble, most of you knows that your thoughts are irrational but the part of your brain that’s calling the shots at the moment truly believes. 

“Never.” his voice stern. With that yoo you couldn’t help but let out a little okay. Within seconds you could feel Cole slowly pulling back the safety of your blankets. Only pulling them down enough to see your face. “Hi beautiful.” he grins at you, the relief clear not only in his voice but his face as his eyes are finally able to see you after being radio silent for 2 days. 

He moves your head so that you're looking up at him as he asks you “please tell me what’s wrong.” He moves his hands so that they are able to wipe some of the tears off your face. 

“I don’t know.” your voice squeaking. Finally letting your eyes focus on him, you see his face is full of nothing but worry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-” 

“You’re okay. I’m not mad, baby… I just- I want to know what’s going on in your head.” he admits, and your stomach drops at his confession. Loving Cole was one of your favorite things in your entire life, but Cole was different, he had this way of always being happy. How could someone who you have never even seen to have a frown on his face understand that your brain sometimes fights itself. Leaving you feeling as if even doing the most basic mundane task is out of reach and you don’t even know why. 

Cole has never seen you struggle with your depression and it’s a lot. On top of his busy schedule due to being in the middle of the season, trying to move up from third line or second. Somehow your brain has convinced you all in a matter of minutes that Cole doesn’t have time to sit back and watch you fight your battles. You didn’t even realize that you were lost in thought until you heard Cole’s voice again. 

“Baby” his voice is soft but loud enough for your brain to register that someone was speaking to you. 

“I- I- sometimes I just - my brain it's like it.” Struggling to say what you want to say, finding the words to describe how much you truly feel like death at the moment. 

“Is it a dark day?” he asks gently. You look at him in shock, “it’s okay to have a bad day every once in a while honey. Just please don’t push me away.” softly bending down and kissing your forehead, your body automatically chasing his lips as they leave your forehead. 

“What if it’s more than a day?” you ask.

“Then I’ll be here please just let me love you.” he asks.

“Okay.” feeling yourself caving, allowing Cole to help you, it's almost like your body felt just a sliver of lightness for the first time in days, knowing that Cole felt the same way with the smile he had on his face. 

He moved his hands so they were under your arms gently lifting you so he could lay comfortably with you on the coach. “Okay we can lay here for a little longer, then I’m gonna help you shower and get some clean sweats on alright?” 

All you can do is nod, feeling overwhelmed with the love that Cole is showing you. Cole stayed true to his words after a few minutes he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. Balancing on the balls of his feet in front of you on the toilet seat, his hands resting in yours on your thighs.He already turned on the water to warm up “Do you want me to stay or are you gonna shower by yourself.” 

“Don’t leave.” the phrase rushing out of you, feeling scared if you didn’t get it out fast enough Cole would leave you again with nothing left but your thoughts to keep you company.

“I won’t until you tell me. We can shower together it’s okay” Finally making eye contact with him again, a giant pout on your lips looking as if you were gonna cry again. He took one of his hands that was resting with yours and took it to your face. “Hey hey you're alright. I promise. This will pass.” Finally moving his lips to yours for the first time since he came over, it was full of nothing less than the love he felt for you. He poured every single emotion into that kiss, it made you feel loved, safe, adored, cared for. Finally pulling apart you whisper a small ‘thanks.’ “Let’s get you cleaned up baby.” As he helps you undress and then quickly shedding his own clothes before helping you in the shower. He helped you wash your body and your hair, giving you little wet kisses all over your body, whispering reassuring words between the kisses. He wasn’t trying to start anything, he just wanted to show you how much he loved you when you couldn’t find anything to love about yourself. 

Cole stayed with you that night, actually his only entire weekend off. He had to go to morning skate that Monday morning since it wasn’t optional. But from that weekend on you never felt closer to Cole. He was your light even on your darkest days, and he helped you find yourself every time you felt your depression pulling you away. Every time he noticed you randomly ghosted him. Or seemed distant in your eyes like your mind was somewhere else, he would always ask you one simple question “is today a dark day?” so that he always knew how to care for his girl.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: You find yourself developing a crush on mischievous soccer player Eita Otoya. The only problem? Eita and relationships don’t exactly go hand in hand — which is something you’re only all too aware of, considering he just so happens to be your best friend’s older brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Karasu Version

Pairing: Otoya x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 12.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, otoya is a red flag let’s not lie to ourselves, he’s lowkey ooc at the end, reader says ‘i can NOT fix him’ but then accidentally manages to anyways, otoya plays video games but sucks at them, otoya’s younger sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘otoya’s younger sister’ the entire time), std jokes, your honor eita otoya IS a loser

A/N: yes this is based off the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious. yes this is probably the dumbest otoya fic you will ever read (i promise i’ve written him better before). yes this is four times longer than it was supposed to be. idk what to say either i just get carried away LMAO

On the first day of your first year of middle school, you were told by your teacher to sit next to an entirely disagreeable looking girl. Her round face was adorned with a scowl, and there was a scrape on the bridge of her nose. She had silvery hair cut in a choppy bob, and blunt bangs streaked with green covered her forehead. When she noticed you staring at her in surprise, she made a face at you.

“What do you want?” she said.

“I’m supposed to sit here,” you said. “Teacher said so.”

“Whatever,” she said with a scoff. You gave her an uneasy look as you set your things down beside her, sliding into your chair and watching her out of the corner of your eye. If she noticed, she did not care, gripping her pencil in her hand so hard it was a miracle it did not snap in half, her scowl deepening as she looked over the introduction sheet you all had been given to fill out. 

“I’m Y/N L/N,” you offered meekly, not wanting to accidentally offend her. She seemed like the kind of girl you really shouldn’t mess with, not if you wanted to keep your life and limbs intact.

She glanced at you. “Seiko Otoya.”

“Nice to meet you, Otoya,” you said.

“Seiko,” she said firmly. “Nobody calls me Otoya ‘cause I have two older siblings and it’s confusing.”

“Ah, but neither of your siblings are here, so it wouldn’t be confusing,” you pointed out before you could stop yourself. Seiko gave you an annoyed look.

“So what? Everyone’s been calling me Seiko since I can remember, so if you try to get my attention by saying Otoya I won’t realize,” she said. “What’s your problem with it?”

“I don’t have a problem,” you said, pulling out a pencil of your own and filling out your introduction sheet. Your handwriting was ten times nicer than Seiko’s, you noticed — she had a messy scrawl that was barely legible, especially when compared to your neat print. 

“That’s great to hear, L/N,” she said, shoving her arm over her paper so you couldn’t look at it any longer. “Quit copying me.”

“Of all the assignments to copy on, do you really think I’d pick this one? It wouldn’t even make sense, since all of the information is about ourselves. See, this one asks about our families,” you said, tapping your eraser against the question you were referring to. “It’s not like I would write that I have two older siblings, because I don’t, even though you do.”

Seiko scoffed, puffing her cheeks out and turning back to her work with a pout. “Fine.”

You had been hoping that you’d befriend your desk partner, considering you didn’t know anyone at the middle school. All of your friends from primary school lived across town from you, so they were attending another middle school, which had the unfortunate effect of leaving you by yourself. Unfortunately, it seemed like you were out of luck when it came to making friends with the girl beside you, because Seiko was surly at best and downright hostile at worst.

When the bell rang to signify the end of the first half of the day as well as the beginning of the lunch break, you all but leapt out of your seat, speed-walking towards the cafeteria as fast as you could, eager to avoid another stiff conversation with Seiko. For her part, she rolled her eyes, taking her own time to gather her things and push in her chair, ignoring you completely all the while.

In your haste, you didn’t watch where you were going, and because of your shyly-ducked head, you ran straight into the back of a tall, heavy-set boy.

“What is wrong with you?” he snapped, spinning around to face you. He had close-cropped hair and thick brows, a narrow mouth pressed into a taut line, and a pinched, ruddy face. 

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately.

“You made me drop my chocolate milk,” he said. “Apologize again, and give me money to pay for more!”

“Your chocolate milk is still in your hand,” you said quietly. He glared at you, and then, before you could react, he was unscrewing the cap and pouring its contents all over you.

“Like I said,” he said. “You made me drop it.”

“What — why would you do that?” you sputtered. You had thought that middle school would be much the same as elementary had been, only with different people, but this never would’ve happened, even just last year. You looked around wildly for a teacher, but there were none; though you were surrounded by laughing peers, you realized that you were alone in this hallway, completely and utterly alone. Everyone was laughing at you and milk was dripping down your once-white shirt and you were alone and things could not get worse. 

The boy held out his hand. Things got worse. “Gimme your lunch money, freak.”

You stared at him blankly, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. He tapped his foot, and slowly, when you understood that you had no choice, you reached into your pocket, fumbling around for the bit of change you had brought with you.

Suddenly, someone slapped your wrist lightly — in reprimand, and not hard enough that it hurt, but so that you were startled and ceased your actions immediately. Looking up, you saw it was Seiko Otoya, looking much the same as she had earlier, though her cheeks bloomed with a rose-colored flush as she jabbed a finger at the boy.

“Who do you think you’re messing with, huh?” she shouted, loudly enough that you were surprised no adults were alarmed. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Seiko?” he said. “I didn’t know you were—”

She let out a challenging war cry and then lunged at him. You gasped as she tackled him to the ground and socked him in the nose, looking entirely ridiculous all the while. It was like watching a chihuahua beat up a mastiff; Seiko was tiny compared to the boy, but vicious, not even giving him a moment to breathe as she rammed her fists into his face, over and over.

“Miss Otoya!” an authoritative voice said, cutting through the brawl. “What is the meaning of this?”

Your teacher stood before you, one of your classmates at her side. When Seiko did not move, she yanked her off of the boy, helping him stand and giving Seiko a stern look.

“He spilled milk on L/N and tried to take her lunch money, so I was just trying to give him a taste of his own medicine,” Seiko said with a shrug.

“You should’ve come to me, not taken matters into your own hands,” your teacher said, massaging her temples when she saw the state of your uniform. “Do you have anything to say to this young man?”

Seiko squinted at the boy, his bloody nose and shivering frame, and then she nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go on, then,” your teacher said. Seiko placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry—” she began. Your teacher nodded encouragingly. “—that I didn’t hit you harder. You could’ve gotten surgery and fixed that ugly nose of yours if I had actually managed to break it. I’ll do better next time, promise.”

The boy burst into tears. Seiko was sent to detention, giggling all the while. You were given a new uniform and the knowledge that there was at least this one person in the school who was on your side.

It was only natural that, after such an ordeal, you and Seiko ended up as fast friends. Her gruff exterior never softened any, but you found that she was kinder than she let on, and lonely in her own way.

“I learned that move from one of the wrestling matches my older brother likes to watch,” she explained to you a few days later. “I’ve been itching to try it out, so thanks for giving me the opportunity.”

“Itching to try it out?” you said in wonder, accepting the orange slice she handed you and biting into it.

“You know, I beat up 95% of the boys in my kindergarten,” she said thoughtfully. Despite the far-fetched number, you were inclined to believe her. “I’m kind of the opposite of my siblings in that sense. They’re both super popular, especially my brother Eita, but I’ve never been like that. I’m the sort of person that people generally stay far away from.”

“Well, I’m not staying far away from you,” you said. 

“Right,” she said, cracking her knuckles with a smirk. “Who knows when that guy or his lackeys will come back to take revenge on you? You’ve gotta keep me around for a while, just in case.”

It was the best she could offer in terms of friendship, so you only smiled and said that you would.

You visited her house for the first time the following summer, during that part of the season when the days were long and faded into night so slowly that you could even fall asleep while it was still light out. She invited you in and then immediately tugged you after her, not bothering to offer an explanation, as was her way. You stumbled up the stairs, trying to keep pace as she whipped around a corner and knocked frantically on a shut door.

“What?” a muffled voice shouted from inside of the room. 

“It’s Seiko, open up!” she shouted back. “I have to show you something!”

The door opened to reveal a boy. He was a year or so older than you and Seiko, with a delicate, handsome face and a slender, willowy build. His hair, which boasted the same strange coloring as Seiko’s, fell into low-lidded eyes that narrowed with irritation when they settled upon his younger sister.

“What is it?” he said. “I was in the middle of playing a game with my friends.”

“Look,” she said, placing her hands on your shoulders proudly. “You said you didn’t believe I had a friend, but I do, see? This is Y/N L/N, and she’s here to hang out with me!”

Her brother seemed unimpressed. “Did you have to rough her up a bit or something to get her to agree to it?”

“No!” Seiko said. “She actually likes me, right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you said, confused at what kind of argument you had accidentally found yourself in the middle of. “Um, Seiko’s my best friend at school, and she’s never beaten me up or anything, so…”

“Holy crap, you must be desperate,” he said.

“Hey!” Seiko said, kicking him in the shin. He winced and promptly slammed the door on your faces.

“You suck!” he said. “I have a soccer game tomorrow, so you’re lucky you didn’t permanently injure me!”

“I wish I had!” she said. “Come on, Y/N. He’s a jerk. Let’s go swimming. Did you bring a bathing suit? If not, you can borrow one of mine.”

“I have one,” you said. “Wait, so was that your older brother? The one who watches wrestling matches and all?”

“Yeah, that’s Eita. He’s in the grade ahead of us. I guess you could say we’re closer with each other than with our older sister, since she’s already finished high school, but to be honest, he’s dumb and mean, so we don’t get along very well,” she said.

“I picked up on that,” you said. “He seriously didn’t believe you had any friends?” 

“No!” she said. “I told you back when we first met that he and our sister are super popular and I’m not, didn’t I? The thing is that he’s aware of that, too, and he always teases me for it, so when I told him I actually had made a friend, he acted like I was making it up. That’s why I took you to meet him, but he just had to go and be annoying about it! Ugh. I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“That’s the worst. Oh, and he plays soccer?” you said. She gave you a strange look.

“Mhm, why?” she said.

“Dunno,” you said. “Just wondering.”

Even you weren’t sure why you were curious about Eita Otoya. Your first interaction with him had hardly been memorable, and if anything you should really despise him for being rude to Seiko. But wasn’t it common for siblings to fight? That didn’t mean he was a bad person, did it?

Actually, it was irrelevant. You doubted you would see much of him, so no matter the quality of his character, he wasn’t someone you needed to be thinking of as anything more than your best friend’s brother. Resolving to push it aside, you spent the rest of the summer with Seiko by their pool, eating popsicles and playing mermaids and getting into splash fights and entirely ignoring whatever signs of her brother’s existence presented themselves.

In fact, until you and Seiko began high school, your path hardly crossed with Eita Otoya’s. He was always out with his friends whenever you came over, and the things he preferred to do had such little overlap with yours and Seiko’s interests that it was as if he did not even live in the Otoya household at all. Indeed, you saw more of their older sister, who was already in college, than you did him, and he became nothing but a vague thought in the back of your mind, only considered when you saw a random sock on their kitchen floor or a soccer jersey thrown across the back of the armchair in their living room.

All of this changed when you and Seiko became high schoolers and she joined the swim team. Her practice hours were long and irregular, which meant there were often times that you’d sit around her house, doing homework while you waited for her to come back. Some days she was only five minutes late; others, it was half an hour or more. It was frustrating, but it could not be helped, so you learned quickly that you should bring something to entertain yourself with if you dared to head to the Otoya household on a day she had swimming — which was every day, or so it seemed.

“Hey. You’re L/N, right? Seiko’s friend?”

You were pulled out of writing a history paper by someone speaking to you curiously. When you looked up, you saw that it was Eita Otoya, a brown paper bag in his hands and a friendly smile on his face. He set the bag on the counter and rummaged about in one of their cabinets, pulling out two plates while he gazed at you, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I am,” you said, omitting the fact that you had been coming to his house for years, seeing no merit in bringing it up. “You’re her older brother.”

“Yup,” he said, emptying the contents of the bag onto one of the plates. “I can’t believe you’re doing homework at your best friend’s house.”

“She was supposed to be back half an hour ago, but I think one of her teammates pissed the coach off, so they all got held back again,” you said. “I figured I might as well be productive while I waited for her.”

“Smart,” he said. “Want some?”

He held up the plate filled with churros at you. You furrowed your brow, feeling entirely awkward — this was probably the longest conversation you had ever had with him, and certainly the only one you had had without Seiko present.

“Uh, sure,” you said.

“Good choice, these things are delicious,” he said, shaking his head as he heaped a generous portion onto the other plate. Pulling out the chair across from you, he handed you your plate and then sat down with a dreamy exhale. “I swear they put crack in them or something.”

“It’s possible,” you said, debating whether you should close your laptop before deciding you might as well. It wouldn’t do for your keyboard to get sticky with cinnamon sugar, and it would probably be rude of you to have it out while he was sitting with you.

You both were quiet for a while — you were too unsure of what to say to him, so you opted for silence, and he was distracted with eating his churros and texting someone on his phone. Maybe you should’ve kept your laptop open after all.

“Say, L/N,” he said. “If you were a girl—”

“I am a girl,” you interrupted him, somewhat put-out that he had forgotten that. He rolled his eyes and took another bite out of a churro, chewing and swallowing it before responding.

“Obviously,” he said. “You didn’t let me finish. If you were a girl who was dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?”

“You could’ve just phrased it like ‘if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?’ You didn’t have to specify the ‘if you were a girl’ part,” you muttered. It was a childish thing to be hung up about, but for some reason it really irritated you to think that he thought of you as something other than you really were.

He cocked his head at you, like he was trying to discern whether you were really being serious or not. He must’ve decided that you were, for he chuckled. It was not quite condescending but bordering on it, and it did not improve your mood any.

“Alright, I’m sorry. That’s my bad. Well, if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?” he said.

“I’d be upset and break up with them immediately, duh,” you said.

“Why?” he said.

“What do you mean why?” you said incredulously. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“I’m not sure. No one’s ever cheated on me before,” he said with an impish grin, leaning over the table and snatching one of the churros off of your plate. “That’s why I wanted to know what you think.”

“No one’s ever cheated on me before, either. I’ve never even dated someone. That’s just the kind of thing where you already know what you’d do, though you hope it never happens,” you said.

“You’ve never dated someone? But you’re so pretty,” he said. You coughed, a bit of the churro that you had just swallowed sticking against your throat peculiarly at the compliment, which he had tossed out so casually it was as if he had just been commenting on the weather.

“Thanks,” you said. “Anyways, er, like I was saying — like I was saying, I wouldn’t stay with a cheater. Not ever.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, taking your empty plate, stacking it atop his own, and setting both in the sink. Running his hands under a stream of water so that there wasn’t any residue left on them, he shook his head. “It isn’t that big of a deal, you know. Like, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” you said. “Of course it means something. It means you don’t have any respect for the person you’re dating, and I wouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me, so why would I stay with someone who cheated? Plus, I’m sure you’ve heard what they all say — once a cheater, always a cheater. If they did it before, they’ll do it again.”

“That’s not very conducive to a growth mindset,” he said, patting his hands dry on a red-striped dish towel.

“Maybe not,” you said. “But people who cheat can grow somewhere far away from me.”

“That sounds like my cue to leave,” he said with a two-fingered salute. “I used to wonder why you were friends with Seiko, but to be honest, I can see it now.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he had left the kitchen, running up to his room, taking the steps two at a time. You were rendered absolutely bewildered, your sugary fingers and your unfinished essay and the two empty plates in the sink serving as the only proof that the conversation had even happened in the first place.

“Your brother’s really weird,” you said to Seiko when she got back, smelling faintly of chlorine, though you knew she had already showered at the pool. She cringed.

“Tell me about it. What did he do this time?” she said, pulling a large sweatshirt on, her hair sticking up every which way afterwards.

“He gave me churros and asked me what I’d do if someone cheated on me,” you said. She snorted.

“Sounds like him,” she said. “He’s kind of a serial dater, you see. He doesn’t tell me much, mostly because I’d be seriously grossed out by it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a cheater, too. Seriously, I don’t even know how we’re related. He’s the worst. I’d tell him to stop if I thought that he’d actually listen to me.”

“Oh,” you said.

“Don’t be so gloomy,” she said, elbowing you in the side affectionately. “It’s not like you’ll ever get with him, so why are you worried? I’d never let you date a cheater like that. Seriously, if you ever get a boyfriend—”

“If?” you said.

“You know what I mean. Anyways, like I was saying, I’ll beat him up if he cheats on you, whoever he might be!” she said, flexing her biceps, which were admittedly impressive, albeit hidden by the puffy sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“What if it’s your brother?” you said. 

“Ew, why would it be him?” she said, pretending to gag. “Never date Eita. You deserve way better. He’s like a walking STD, probably. Just being in the same room with him is enough to give anyone herpes.”

“It was just a hypothetical question. And also, don’t you live with him? That’s nasty, do you have herpes, too?” you said. She ran her hands through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it; you reached into your backpack and pulled out a comb, tossing it at her.

“I’m immune because we’re related,” she said. “They only transfer if you have those kinds of intentions, so you’re safe for now, but I’m just saying, he’s a genuine health risk to be around. And to answer your question, yeah, I’d take any opportunity to punch him, so if he cheated on you I’d go at it doubly hard!”

“That makes it seem like I’m more of an excuse for you to mess with your brother than you actually wanting to defend my honor or anything,” you said.

“There’s a bit of both factoring into the decision,” she admitted. “Let’s stop thinking about it, though. I’m feeling itchy in places I should not be feeling itchy at just the prospect of you guys being together.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” you informed her. She stuck her tongue out at you, and the topic was, in turn, forgotten.

For some reason, though, you found yourself showing up at the Otoyas’ house earlier and earlier. Not enough to draw suspicion, but enough that you almost always had at least a couple of minutes there by yourself. Mr. and Mrs. Otoya had long ago grown accustomed to your presence and treated you more like another daughter than anything, so they didn’t find it strange, and Seiko’s older sister had recently moved into her own apartment nearer to her university, so she didn’t even realize that it was happening.

In fact, there was only one consequence to this newfound habit of yours: in the many moments before Seiko returned from her practices, you struck up a friendship with her brother, Eita.

Things were awkward at first, you couldn’t deny it. He didn’t have much interest in you, and in fact it seemed like he only entertained you because it would be even worse if he didn’t. 

“Oh, you’re here again,” he’d say if he got back from soccer before Seiko came back from swimming. “No Seiko?”

“Not yet,” you’d say, a poster board or worksheet or laptop in front of you. “She should be back in a few minutes. We’re supposed to finish this project together.”

“I told her she should’ve picked soccer,” he’d say with a laugh. “We always finish on time.”

“Cool,” you’d say, because how else could you respond? He’d raise his eyebrows at you, and then, if he felt generous, he’d give you a churro. If not, he’d dart off to his room, mumbling some excuse about having to call one of his friends or something, which you never responded to, because it was mostly unimportant to you.

There wasn’t any huge reasoning behind it. Talking to Eita Otoya wasn’t particularly stimulating, and though you certainly found him good-looking, you wouldn’t go so far as to say you had a crush on him. Mostly, you found him to be a bit of an enigma, and if in figuring him out, you got a few churros out of it, then you supposed it was a fair enough deal, but it wasn’t like you were seeking out his company or anything.

Eventually, he seemed to warm to you a bit more, though you were still standoffish, Seiko’s warning ever-present in the back of your mind — the one regarding walking STDs and herpes and whatnot. You never brought it up with him, but that really was the cause of your shyness, not — not anything else. Definitely not anything else. Why would you be shy around him of all people?

“Hey, L/N,” he’d say nowadays, greeting you cheerfully and sitting next to you as you did your homework. “How’re things going?”

“They’re good, thank you,” you’d say, scooting away from him inconspicuously. Herpes. STDs. Genuine health risk. Oh, he smells really nice… 

“I’m doing well myself,” he’d respond, despite the fact that you typically didn’t bother with asking. “Still no Seiko?”

“Nope,” you’d say with a sigh. “Still no Seiko.”

He’d wrinkle his nose. “Damn. Sorry to hear it.”

“It’s fine,” you’d say. “She’ll be here soon, and she’ll probably be full of complaints about her coach.”

“I’d stick around until then, but unfortunately, my PC is calling,” he’d say, or he’d give some other such goofy excuse that was obviously designed to pull a laugh out of you and usually did. “See you around, L/N.”

“Later,” you’d say. “Have fun with your PC.”

It was nice. You wouldn’t say you were close with him by any means — definitely not as close as you were with his sister — but the two of you got along. You didn’t know much about him, and you doubted he knew much about you, but you both could hold enough of a conversation that you began to actually look forward to spending time with him.

Only because he was oddly funny in his own way, and kind of sweet, too. It had nothing to do with how nice his laugh sounded or how bright his grin was or the way he spoke to you, gently but also mischievously. You didn’t even notice these things, not one bit. 

“Y/N!” he said one Saturday, banging into the kitchen excitedly. At some point, you had indeed become Y/N to him, though you couldn’t quite place when that shift had occurred. “No Seiko?”

“She’s at a meet,” you said. “She told me she’d come back once she was done with her races, but she texted me a few minutes ago that her coach is making her stay for the entire thing, and she doesn’t know how long it’ll take. I thought about going home, but then I thought that, since I’m already here, I should just wait for her.”

“I’m surprised you’re not doing homework,” he said, hopping onto the counter, a box in his hands, ostensibly filled with churros.

“It’s Saturday,” you pointed out. “I did all of my weekend work yesterday so I could be free today and tomorrow. Seiko and I were supposed to have a movie marathon, so I didn’t want to be distracted.”

“Supposed to?” he said, wandering around his kitchen, taking out cutlery and plates with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“Who knows when she’ll get back? Hopefully, it’s soon, but I’m sure you’re aware of how random the meet schedules can be, so we might run out of time to have a marathon proper,” you said.

“It’s like I always say,” he said.

“She should’ve picked soccer,” you completed for him. “What makes you bring that up today?”

“Our matches are timed,” he said. “No uncertainty there. Look, forget about that for a moment. I walked past this bakery on my way back from soccer practice, and they were having a sale, so I stopped in. I asked Seiko, and she said you like these. Is that true? Because if she was lying, I’m gonna kill her.”

Instead of churros like you had expected, he was holding a plate of cupcakes, frosted in pastel shades, crystal sprinkles glittering under the ceiling lights. They were beautiful, like little flowers or jewels, and you beamed as he put them on the table and waited for you to speak.

“No way!” you said. “Are these from that place by the park? I’ve been wanting to go there for ages, but their stuff is so expensive that I could never justify it. I can’t believe they had a sale! Thank goodness you happened to walk past. I would’ve cried if I missed my chance to try their stuff.”

“So, as a girl, you’re impressed by this?” he said as you unwrapped one of the cupcakes and shoved it in your mouth. You gave him a surprised look, your chin covered in icing, sweet cake filling your cheeks. He suppressed a laugh, handing you a napkin as you rapidly chewed and swallowed.

“What d’you mean?” you said.

“I’m trying something new,” he explained. “Buying flowers is kinda lame nowadays; plus, if I get cupcakes instead, then I can also have some, so it’s a win-win.”

“I see,” you said, dabbing at your face with the napkin.

“I thought I’d ask for your feedback, since you’re the only girl I talk to regularly. Besides Seiko, obviously, but it’s not like I’m going to ask my little sister about this kind of stuff,” he said.

“I’d say I was pretty impressed,” you said. “However, I would also say you shouldn’t mention that you got them on sale.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mention that to a girl I was actually interested in,” he said. “I just told you because I knew you’d refuse to eat them otherwise.”

“That’s true,” you said. “Buying these at full price would’ve been stupid in any situation, but especially so because it’s not like you’re trying to be nice to me or anything.”

“You make me sound like a villain,” he complained. “I still got them for you, didn’t I? Why does it matter what my reasons were?”

“Your reasons are kind of villainous,” you said. “You got them for me so I could tell you whether your new strategy for picking up girls was a winner or not.”

“I compensated you for your services!” he said. “What kind of villain would do that? By the way, is it? A winner, I mean.”

“I think so, but everyone’s different. It could work with one person and not another,” you said.

“Good enough for me,” he said, patting you on the head. You paid him no mind — not true, even the lighthearted touch made you feel all squirmy and strange — and pulled out your phone, which had just vibrated with a text. 

It was Seiko, and you sighed as you read the message. Eita peered over your shoulder and then hummed sympathetically.

“Ooh, is that Seiko? Yikes,” he said.

‘now the coach is making us all go to dinner as a team :/ we can have our movie marathon another time?? sorry i made you wait and then stood you up.’

A second later, your phone buzzed again. 

‘i feel like eita LMAO omg pls don’t slap me like his last ex did. i’ll make it up to you another time PROMISE!!’

You would’ve laughed, but you felt so discouraged by her earlier text that you could only muster up a half-smile. Eita gasped in offense when he read the second message, drawing back and sticking his nose in the air, folding his arms over his chest.

“I can’t believe she’s airing my business out to you like that,” he said.

“I can’t believe you got slapped by your last ex,” you said, though the words lacked the teasing bite that they should’ve had. He frowned at you.

“Are you just going to go home now?” he said.

“Guess so, since Seiko won’t be back until tonight,” you said. “Oh, well. At least I got cupcakes. I’m sure the girl that you stood up wasn’t so lucky.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he said. “No, she wasn’t.”

“And you claimed you weren’t a villain,” you said, shaking your head in disappointment. “See you later. Thanks for the cupcakes.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then, just as abruptly, closed it again. You arched a brow at him, but he only smiled at you.

“See you,” he said, putting the cupcakes back in the box and handing it to you. “Take these.”

“Don’t you want them?” you said. He had never given you the extras of anything he had ever bought before, preferring to keep them so he could eat them later that night or for breakfast the next day. 

“Nah, I got them for you, so you should keep them,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime,” you said, your fingertips brushing against his as he handed you the box. A burst of static electricity shocked you, and you bit back a hiss as you accepted it from him, not wanting to seem whiny when he hadn’t even reacted.

“Hold on,” he said as you made your way to the door. “Listen, if she stands you up again, I’ll watch the movies with you.”

“Really? They’re not your genre, so I’m sure you’ll be bored,” you said.

“You don’t even know what my genre is,” he said. 

“Maybe not,” you said. “I’ll take you up on that, then, so I hope you meant it.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” he said.

“You’re not half-bad, you know,” you said thoughtfully, tucking the box under your arm so you could unlock the front door. “Seiko always calls you mean, but you’re pretty nice.”

“If she was half as agreeable as you, I wouldn’t have to be mean!” he said. “It’s way easier to be nice to you than anyone else, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that. What even were you to him? Just his little sister’s best friend, or something different? Were the two of you genuinely friends, or were you just the girl he asked for help with his stupid relationships that never lasted for longer than a week? Did he like you? Did you like him? No, of course you didn’t. This was Eita Otoya. You could never like him, not if you valued your friendship with Seiko or the well-being of your heart. You didn’t like him. You didn’t, you didn’t, you didn’t.

“That’s good,” you said finally. “Thanks again.”

“Bye,” he said.

“Bye,” you said, and with a final look at him, you let the door swing shut and turned towards your home.

The next day, you got up early so that you could make it to the bakery before they ran out of their best wares. Eita hadn’t specified how long the sale lasted, and if there was even a chance that it was still ongoing, you wanted to take advantage of it.

Thanks to the odd hour, there wasn’t a line outside of the bakery, and you felt confident as you walked into the warm, dough-scented building. It was airy and bright, flowers and sweets in the windowsill, the display cases well-lit and stocked with a multitude of desserts. Plants hung from the ceiling, and the pale wallpaper was covered with floral motifs, small birds perching amongst the blooms. The bakery itself was so beautiful that you almost forgot what you were there for until one of the employees cleared her throat.

“Can I help you, miss?” she said.

“Hi!” you said. “A friend of mine mentioned that you were having a sale yesterday. Is that still happening?”

“A sale? We don’t do sales here, I’m afraid. Is it possible that they went somewhere else?” she said.

“No, he specifically said the place by the park,” you said, furrowing your brow. “Are you sure you didn’t happen to have a sale?”

“Positive,” she said. “I was working yesterday, too, so if you describe him, I can let you know if he came or not.”

“He’s about this tall,” you said, holding up your hand at approximately Eita’s height. “Plays soccer, silver hair with a green streak—”

“Yes! He came in right around lunchtime yesterday and bought cupcakes,” she said. “Um, is he single, by any chance?”

“As good as,” you said. You had no idea what the state of his romantic life was, but considering how quickly he jumped from girl to girl, there was almost no point in saying that he was taken. “If he ever comes back, feel free to make a move on him. He’d probably appreciate it. Moving on, do you mean to say that he got those at full price?”

“He would’ve had to,” she said. “Like I said, we don’t do sales. We’re not that kind of establishment.”

“I might faint when you answer this, so please be slow and careful when you do, but how much, exactly, is full price for what he bought?” you said. “Out of curiosity.” 

She told you. You did not faint, but it was such an exorbitant number that, for a moment, you really thought you might.

The next Saturday evening, you went to the Otoyas’ with a wad of cash in your hand. Seiko and her parents were away the entire weekend for an invitational meet, but for once, she was not the one you had gone to visit, so this was of little consequence to you.

You rang the doorbell and waited with crossed arms, the humid air oppressive against your skin. According to your weather app, it was going to rain soon, and you pursed your lips at the thought that Eita might not be home and you’d get caught in the downpour with nothing to show for it.

Luckily, the door opened, revealing him standing there in a pair of shorts, his hair still damp and a towel around his neck. You focused very hard on pretending like he was wearing a shirt, even though he was not, and it worked well enough that you could just barely greet him properly.

“Y/N? Hey, I’m sorry you walked all this way, but Seiko’s not home. Did she forget to tell you she’s gone for the weekend?” he said.

“No, I’m here for you,” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“Not like that! I mean, I went to that bakery, and the girl working there told me they never have sales, which means you paid full price for those cupcakes. That’s insane! I can’t accept that,” you said.

“So, what, are you gonna vomit them out at my feet or something? That sounds gross, please don’t,” he said.

“I’m paying you back,” you said, extending your hand and offering him the money. “Don’t even think about refusing. I already feel horrible.”

“No way,” he said. “It was a present. You don’t pay people back for presents, that’s like a faux pas or something. I think. Er, I’d have to look it up to be certain, but I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon.”

“I didn’t even do anything present-worthy, so why would you give me one?” you said.

“Yeah, you did. You helped me out, remember? Gave me advice and all,” he said.

“That was hardly worth all of this!” you said. “Seriously, at least take a little bit.”

“Nah,” he said. “You should come inside.”

“For what?” you said. “Seiko’s not here.”

“True, but I feel bad that you walked for nothing, so it’s the least I can do,” he said.

“It wasn’t for nothing. It was to pay you back, which I will do, and after that I’ll go home,” you said.

“Doubt it,” he said. “Come on, it’s going to rain soon. If you get sick and blame me for it, my sister will kill me.”

Reluctantly, you followed him into the kitchen, hyper aware that you both were alone. It had never been like this before; always, someone else had been in the house, whether his mother or father or one of his sisters. You shouldn’t have cared that it was just the two of you, but you found that you did. It was as uncomfortable and strange as the turbulent skies and muggy atmosphere, but also pleasant in a way, like the sweet smell of yeast in a bakery or flower petals dusting against the crackled tops of sugar cookies in a windowsill.

“Do you like Super Smash Bros.?” he said, taking the towel and rubbing his head vigorously, giving him the frazzled appearance of a hedgehog, or perhaps an electrocuted cat of the cartoonish variety.

“It’s fun, but I’m not that good. Seiko usually beats me,” you said. 

“We can play, if you want,” he said. 

“Okay?” you said. “Why?”

“I’m just trying to think of things that we can do, since you’re here and all,” he said. 

“What were you planning on doing if I didn’t come?” you said.

“I was going to go on a date,” he said. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you actually had plans! I should leave so you can get to that,” you said. He waved you off dismissively, already turning the console on and connecting the controllers.

“It’s fine, I already canceled on her. Hopefully she gets the hint. If I have to spell it out to her that I’m not interested anymore, it’ll be annoying,” he said.

The TV flashed with the starting screen, the music blaring as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, remotes in hand. Outside, thunder rumbled ominously, and you thought that you should probably send your location to your parents so that they didn’t get worried. While Eita messed with the settings, you did that, receiving affirmative responses from both of them in turn — which made sense, as neither of them knew that Mr. and Mrs. Otoya, along with Seiko, weren’t home.

“Do you care what map we use?” he said.

“Seiko and I usually just go random,” you said. “So whatever you want is fine.”

“Random is the best,” he said. “Especially when you get the interactive maps that actively try to kill you. It’s way more exciting that way.”

“Exactly,” you said. Half of yours and Seiko’s matches were decided based on who could adjust to the map faster; sadly for you, this was frequently your best friend, and only very rarely you. 

“What character do you play? I know Seiko likes Palutena, so probably not her, right?” he said.

“I only ever play as girl characters, but my favorite is Zero Suit Samus,” you said, clicking on her and changing her outfit so that it was the burgundy version.

“You only play as girl characters? Why?” he said.

“It’s the best way to bond with your avatar. If you can’t connect with your character, then how can you hope to win?” you said.

“Are you for real?” he said. You maintained a straight face for as long as you could before breaking into laughter. 

“Obviously not. I just like playing as characters I think are pretty, since I don’t have much of a chance at winning either way,” you said.

“That makes sense,” he said. “I play as Sheik. He’s based off of a ninja, so it makes sense.”

It was your turn to give him a strange look. “What?”

“Because we’re descended from ninjas and all, so I have to stick with the theme. It’s like the Otoya brand,” he explained.

“I got that part,” you said. “What do you mean by he, though? Sheik is a girl.”

He paused right before clicking on Sheik, his eyes wide. “No way. He’s obviously a guy.”

“Not so,” you said. “I looked up a list of all female characters in Smash when I was trying to pick a main, and Sheik was on it. She’s Princess Zelda’s alter-ego, apparently.”

“Are you messing with me again?” he said. 

“No, not this time,” you said. He mulled this over before shrugging and clicking on the character’s icon anyways.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m used to her, so there’s no point in changing. Besides, it doesn’t really matter if she’s a girl.”

“Very true,” you said. “Alright, I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Be prepared,” he warned you as he pressed the start button and the screen switched to a countdown. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you said. “Considering how frequently I’m pummeled by your sister, I’m used to losing.”

“Good. Get used to it more,” he said, immediately starting off before you could even orient yourself on the map. “Bang! Gotcha! You really are bad at this.”

“Just as an aside, the TV makes sound effects, so you don’t need to add more of your own,” you said, wrinkling your nose and dodging out of his next attack.

“It makes it more fun,” he said. “You should try it. Really helps you get in the zone.”

“Hm,” you said. “I’ll leave it to you.”

Somehow, you and Eita were actually evenly matched, and during the final round, you knocked his character off of the edge, guarding it until he couldn’t hope to recover and fell to his defeat. 

“Yay!” you said as the victory screen showed your character posing. “I haven’t won in ages! This is awesome.”

“Rematch! You only won because you’re one of those dirty edge guarders!” he said, already setting up the next game.

“‘Dirty edge guarders?’ That’s how the game is played,” you said.

“Nuh-uh, it’s against the rules,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

“No? There aren’t really rules in Smash. How do you not know this? Also, you should really stop saying things when you don’t even know if they’re true,” you said.

“My older sister would always tell me it was against the rules when we used to play,” he said. You waited for it to dawn on him; when it did, he groaned and facepalmed. “She was full of shit?”

“I’m afraid you were, in fact, duped,” you said.

“No wonder she always beat me,” he grumbled. “Whenever I was close to winning, she’d say whatever I was doing was against the rules.”

“That would do it,” you said. “I don’t mind playing again, though.”

“This time I’ll beat you for sure,” he said. “Now that I don’t have to abide by any bullshit guidelines.”

The two of you got wrapped up in a series of matches, eventually turning on the random character selector as well as the random map selector, refusing to read the tutorials so you were really going into things blind and figuring it out as you went. You had way more fun than you had expected you would, and as the evening went on, any thoughts of feeling self-conscious vanished from your mind. It was just Eita Otoya, after all. He was only your best friend’s older brother, the one who brought you treats and played soccer and sucked at Smash and had a childish sense of humor. There was no reason to feel shy. Well, besides the fact that he had never opted to put a shirt on, but that was a non-issue when your attention was focused solely on the screen.

You weren’t sure how many rounds you had gotten through when his phone rang, so shrilly and insistently that he was forced to pause the game and take the call. He didn’t leave his spot on the couch, though, which meant you were able to observe him as the girl on the other end began to scream.

“How could you cancel on me at the last minute?” she said, loud enough that you could hear her, though his phone wasn’t on speakerphone.

“It wasn’t that hard,” he said. “I just texted you and said I’m not going.”

“You’re such a piece of shit. I thought — I thought everyone was wrong about you, but they weren’t. They weren’t at all,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that they were,” he said. “Listen, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now, so could you hurry up and say what you want to say?”

“Did you ever even like me?” she said.

“Yeah, at first,” he said. 

“Not anymore, though,” she said.

“Guess not,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Is that it? You’re ending things just like that? Didn’t it mean anything to you? I bragged to all of my friends about you! You were so sweet, and you even got me cookies…was it all just a game?” she said.

“It wasn’t a game,” he said. “As I said, I liked you back then. I wouldn’t have done all of that if I didn’t.”

“Because that’s supposed to make me feel all better,” she said.

“I’m just explaining myself,” he said.

“You’re the worst. You’re — just, you’re the worst, ugh!” she said before hanging up. Eita made a face at the phone and then put it facedown on the table beside him, unpausing the game without a wasted moment.

“They were from the grocery store,” he said after a bit.

“What?” you said.

“The cookies I got her. Grocery store variety,” he said.

“Oh. That’s kinda shitty,” you said.

“She seemed pretty happy about them regardless,” he said. “I wasn’t about to waste my money when I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“You wasted your money on me,” you pointed out. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

“You’re Seiko’s best friend. I’m pretty sure you’re not going anywhere, so it’s not a big deal. Consider it a peace offering for not believing you were real at first,” he said, landing a combo attack on your character.

“That was ages ago,” you said.

“It’s downright traumatizing for a person when others don’t think they’re real. Fucks up their psyche and whatnot. Acknowledging my mistake was the least I could do,” he said.

“Another fact you just made up?” you said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Was it plausible?”

“Not in the slightest,” you said.

“I tried,” he said. “Woah, nice one, Y/N.”

You had just hit his character in a series of successive blows, entirely by accident but to devastating effect. He lost his first life, respawning in and jumping back to the offensive.

“Why do you even do it?” you said, finally vocalizing the question that had been bothering you for almost the entire time that you had known him.

“Do what?” he said.

“Date people, when you know you’re going to break up with them so quickly,” you said. “What’s the point?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, the glare of the screen reflecting in his fern-colored irises. “It’s always fun at first. I meet a pretty girl, and I talk her into giving me her number. We go on a date or two, and I think it might actually be different this time, but it never is. By the third or fourth date, I’m bored beyond belief and dreading going on another. Then we break up and I do it all again.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you said.

“Near the end, it is,” he said. “But it’s pretty amusing in the beginning, so I don’t see a reason to stop.”

“Do you cheat on your girlfriends?” you said. You knew for sure what he would say, but still, you wanted to hear it from him.

“What is this, interview-Eita-day? Yeah, I have in the past, but only a couple of times,” he said. “Both of them were when the relationships were on their last legs and I couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.”

“That’s callous,” you said. “You should’ve just broken up with them.”

“Dumping girls is the worst. They get all upset and start crying, and I know I should feel bad because I’m the reason, but by that point, I just want to go home,” he said. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“A little bit,” you said. “For the most part, though, I just don’t understand. Why do you keep going for people you know you’re going to get tired of?”

“It’s not like I can look in the future and see that I’m going to end up bored,” he said. “It just happens. We run out of things to talk about and sit there in silence. It sucks. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“How does that even happen?” you said. “You talk all the time with me. I didn’t think you were capable of running out of things to say.”

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m not worried about impressing you — no offense — and you’re funny, plus you like some of the same things as me, so it’s easy to have a conversation with you. It’s not the case when you’re going out with someone. You’ll understand when you decide to date yourself.”

“Don’t the girls you go out with like the same things as you?” you said.

“Not really,” he said. “They think video games are for losers, and they’re too scared to go on the rides at amusement parks. Some of them understand soccer, but not to the point that it’s something they’d want to talk about frequently.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” you said. “You’re only going out with people who you have zero shared interests with. It’s normal that you’d get bored of them, and that they’d get bored in return.”

“You’re thinking too much about it,” he said. “It’s not that deep.”

“That’s how it works,” you said. “Quite fundamentally, actually. It’s impossible to build a relationship with someone when you both have nothing in common. In fact, it’s unfair to all involved parties.”

“Are you trying to give me advice?” he said.

“Depends. Will you take it seriously if I do?” you said.

“Not sure. It’s kind of ridiculous for me to be listening to my little sister’s friend about this kind of thing,” he said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you said.

“True,” he said. “Go ahead, then.”

“What do you even look for when you’re thinking of dating a girl?” you said.

“How hot she is,” he said. You waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

“That’s it?” you said.

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Why?” you said.

“Why not? Isn’t physical attraction important?” he said.

“To a certain extent, yes, but after a while, less and less so,” you said. “Haven’t you ever watched any romance movies? ‘It’s what’s on the inside that counts.’ Physical attraction alone isn’t enough in the long term.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So what do you suggest?”

“Are there any girls you genuinely enjoy spending time with? Not romantically, just because you like talking to them, even if they’re not the prettiest or whatever,” you said.

“I don’t really spend time with girls unless I’m trying to date them. It never works out. They always end up liking me, and besides, it makes my girlfriends mad if I’m friends with other girls,” he said. 

“You seriously have zero female friends,” you deadpanned.

“And just how many male friends do you have?” he shot back.

“None,” you said. “Okay, fair enough.”

“Wait, no, I guess we’re friends,” he said. “Yeah, you’re cool, Y/N. I mean, you’re pretty as well, but I don’t really think about that part much because you’re friends with Seiko.”

“Thanks,” you said. “You’re cool, too.”

“Now what? You’re a girl, and I like talking to you. Where do I go from there?” he said.

“I was going to say you should try dating one of those girls instead, but obviously that’s not applicable here,” you said.

“Ah,” he said. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m all that unique,” you said, taking advantage of his distraction to win another match. “It won’t be that hard for you to find someone else that you like hanging out with, and then you can just date them. Hopefully, you won’t get bored with a relationship like that.”

Eita didn’t respond. You doubted he knew how to and you were glad for his silence, because you yourself felt embarrassed that you had tried so hard to help him. Since when had you been the kind of girl who wanted so badly to give people guidance? He had his problems, no one could deny that, but why did you care about them? Why did it matter to you if he was happy, or if he grew out of whatever phase he was currently in?

Maybe it was because you knew he could be better. The caricature of him that you heard about, from Seiko and from the rumors around your high school, contrasted so harshly with the Eita Otoya you knew. People loved him because they wanted to be him, to have that effortless and selfish attitude towards life, but you didn’t think that very many of them took the time to understand him.

You doubted anyone at school knew that he was horrible at Super Smash Bros., or that he was entirely gullible and liked to make other people laugh. How many of them would find him admirable if they knew of his addiction to churros and diet sodas? He wasn’t cool or charming or suave the way he pretended to be. At the end of the day, he was nothing but a dumb boy blessed with a handsome enough mien that had fallen into a crowd which demanded more of him than he honestly should’ve had to give.

Putting this protectiveness down as a symptom of your friendship with Seiko — of course you cared for her older brother, he was a part of her family and you cared about her, it only made sense — you noticed that there was a lull in the storm. Bidding Eita farewell and shoving the money into his phone case when he was preoccupied with turning the game off, you ran home before it could begin to rain again, blaming your queasiness on the fact that you had not yet eaten dinner and nothing more.

“Eita’s been talking about you a lot,” Seiko said to you at lunch one day, a couple of weeks after the evening you had spent with her brother. Both you and he had mutually agreed not to bring it up, and Seiko was none the wiser, or at least so you had thought.

“What do you mean?” you said. She took a sip out of her juice box.

“Nothing bad. He just asks me how you’re doing and stuff,” she said. 

“That’s not that weird. Why’d you bring it up?” you said. For a moment, you had thought she meant that he was asking about you for a different reason, but this just sounded like a typical and general concern.

“It’s a little weird. He doesn’t typically care about how other people are doing. The other day, he asked me when you’re coming over again, since according to him it’s ‘been a while.’ Like he’s keeping track or something!” she said.

“He’s not wrong. It has been a bit,” you said.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Season’s almost over, and then I’m all yours.”

“You don’t have off-season workouts?” you said.

“Fuck off-season workouts,” she said. “I’ll skip on the days we plan to hang out. My coach won’t say anything. I’m the star of the team, so he has to live with it.”

“You’re the best,” you said.

“And you’re trying to change the subject!” she said. “Are the two of you buddy-buddy now or something?”

“Or something,” you said. “We’ve just spoken a few times while I was waiting for you to come back home from practices.”

She narrowed her eyes at you before nodding slowly. “Look, just so you know, I don’t mind if you’re friends with him or anything.”

“That’s good. I’ll keep it in mind,” you said.

“He’s my brother, after all. I like knowing that my best friend is getting along with my family,” she continued.

“I get along with your family so well that I’m surprised they haven’t started calling me Y/N Otoya yet,” you said.

“But I want you to be aware of what kind of person he is,” she said with a note of finality. “He might do something that hurts your feelings.”

“You’ve told me. Many times, actually,” you said.

“And I don’t want you to stop being friends with me if he does,” she said. “Okay?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you said. “You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

“You promise?” she said, in a rare show of vulnerability.

“Promise,” you said. She punched you in the arm, returning back to being the Seiko you knew.

“Good. Then do what you want with him,” she said.

“What?” you said.

“Just saying! You deserve better, obviously, but I won’t turn down a chance to have you as my sister-in-law,” she said. “Besides, he knows that if he messes with you, I’ll take your side, so that might be an incentive for him to stay on the straight and narrow.”

“Seiko! It’s not like that!” you said. “I don’t have feelings for him. He’s your brother.” 

“Whatever you say,” she said in a sing-song voice, taking another sip of her juice box, obviously done with the discussion. 

She knew you better than you knew yourself. That was what happened when a person was best friends with another for years upon years, and that was why she understood even before you did what it was that was brewing between you and her brother, what had been brewing since long before that evening where you had finally noticed a palpable shift in your dynamic.

Exam season began shortly afterwards, so you didn’t have the time to go to the Otoyas’ when you were so wrapped up in studying. Then, once exams were finished, Seiko was finally freed from her grueling practice schedule, leaving her to be, as she had said earlier, all yours. This meant that even when you did go to their house, you were solely there to be with her, and so you saw little of Eita, barely speaking to him beyond exchanging pleasantries.

Sometimes you wondered how he was doing. Had he found a girl he actually liked and ended up dating her? How was that relationship going, if so? Or was he still continuing as he had been, chasing whoever he found the most attractive and then running away from them when things inevitably didn’t work out? You hoped that that wasn’t the case, though you didn’t find the former option all that appealing, either. You should’ve, because it would’ve meant that he had taken your words to heart, but you didn’t. The thought of him dating anyone was wrong and weird and you didn’t like it, but because you weren’t quite sure why that was, you decided to avoid both the feeling and its cause alike.

Halfway through summer break, on a day when your parents were on a business trip and Seiko was visiting one of her cousins in the city, Eita Otoya showed up on your front porch, knocking on the door furiously until you opened it. He was just about the last person you had expected to be standing there, red in the face and panting for breath, wearing a sweat-soaked jersey, hair sticking to his forehead and a white box in his hands.

“You look horrible,” you said.

“I ran all of the way here,” he said. “After my soccer game.”

“What for?” you said. 

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said. 

“I was just at your house the other day,” you said. “Jeez, you look like you’re about to pass out. Let me get you some water. You really could’ve walked, you know…”

He had never been to your house, so he trailed after you dutifully, sitting at the dining table and gulping down the glass of water you offered him within seconds. Taking it back, you refilled it and gave it to him again.

“You were there for Seiko, not me,” he said.

“She’s my best friend,” you said. “Obviously I was there for her.”

“And what am I?” he said.

“Not that,” you said.

“I should be upset, but for some reason, I’m kind of glad that you said that,” he said. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Rude much?” you said, his words stinging. “Is that all you came here to tell me? If you don’t want to be friends, that’s fine, but was there really a need for you to come to my house and announce it? How’d you even get my address?”

“Seiko told me,” he said.

“In hindsight, I should’ve seen that coming,” you said.

“I haven’t dated anyone,” he said, all in a rush, the sentences tumbling out of his mouth like he was not sure if he’d ever get the chance to say them again. “Not since that night that we played video games together.”

“Seriously? If I ask Seiko, will she confirm that?” you said.

“Of course! I’m a lot of things, I know that, but I’m not a liar. I’ve never tried to hide who I am, especially not from you,” he said.

“Well,” you said. “That’s good, then. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve tried finding the kind of person you described,” he said. “Someone like you. You said it would be easy, but it’s not. It’s really fucking difficult.”

“Maybe you should look harder, then,” you said, rolling your eyes and placing his empty cup in the dishwasher before you forgot about it. “There’s no way I’m the only girl in the entire city that you can bring yourself to genuinely like.”

“You’re the only one I want to like,” he said. You froze in the middle of putting dish detergent in the dispenser, giving him an incredulous look.

“I’m what?” you said.

“I get that you probably don’t feel the same way. To be honest, I didn’t even realize that I did until Seiko yelled at me about it, because it’s not like it usually is. I want to spend time with you, as much as possible, even if we’re not doing anything but eating snacks or playing games. I want to listen to you talk, even if it’s about something that I think is boring. I want to buy things that’ll make you happy — the nice versions, not the kinds from the grocery store, because I don’t want to imagine that it won’t last. I want it to last,” he said.

You stared at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Of all the things he could’ve said, that was the most unlikely. What was it about you that made you so different, that the ever-fickle and brutally honest Eita Otoya was driven to such a confession? You knew he wasn’t making it up, because he was right — he never did. Not once had he ever tried to mislead a girl about who he was, and you sensed that this was much the same. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t believe him. It was that you simply couldn’t understand.

“I don’t get it,” you said.

“What do you mean? What else am I supposed to say?” he said. “I like you. I think I have for a while now. At first, I thought it was just because you were my sister’s friend, but according to her, you normally don’t feel this way for the friends of your siblings.”

“You’ve been talking to Seiko about me?” you said. Suddenly, the side comments she had been making recently made a lot more sense.

“Who else would I go to? It was humiliating, asking her for help, but you guys have known each other for forever, so I figured it was the best option,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said, starting the dishwasher and pushing it shut. “Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“If you’re going to reject me, don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you all of that because I was expecting you to say yes. I just wanted you to know that — that I did take what you said into consideration,” he said. 

“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It must’ve been weird, following the advice of your younger sister’s best friend.”

“You’re more than that,” he said. “You’re more than just Seiko’s friend to me. You’ve been more than that for a long time now.”

“Why me?” you said. “Why is it me, and not one of the hundreds of other girls that would jump at the chance to fix you, to be the one who finally got Eita Otoya to settle down for good?”

“It’s that bratty little sister of mine’s fault,” he said. “Because of her, you kept showing up, and by the time I noticed, it was way too late. At that point, I was already asking her what your favorite desserts were, just so I could get them for you.”

“I see,” you said.

“Besides, being with someone who wants to fix another person sounds awful. Do you want to fix me?” he said.

“If you expect me to, then you should probably just leave,” you said. “I don’t mind helping when I can, but the only person that can fix you is you.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You mentioned once that cheaters can grow somewhere far away from you.”

“Hm? Oh, I did say something along those lines, didn’t I? That was over a year ago, though,” you said, thinking back to that random conversation, unsure of why he even remembered it.

“I’ve done it,” he said. “It was hard, but I’ve done it anyways. For you, but also for myself. I’m not so sure that the highs are worth the lows anymore, and besides, I hate doing things I don’t like, and dating around is becoming one of those things.”

“Is that so?” you said. “I’m glad you realized that.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too. Uh, I should probably go now, so…here. For last time. You shouldn’t have paid me back. Don’t even think about pulling something like that again.”

He opened the box, revealing an assortment of cookies, all the different kinds you liked. You didn’t need to ask him to know where he had gotten them from, and you admired them as he stood and pushed in his chair.

“Thanks for hearing me out, Y/N,” he said. “And don’t worry, I won’t make things uncomfortable, so feel free to visit Seiko whenever. I’ll stay out of your way when you come over. She doesn’t have any other friends, so don’t ditch her just because of me.”

“You’re pretty self-important, aren’t you?” you teased. “Did you think I’d give her up just because of you? Not likely. Anyways, why would things be uncomfortable?”

“Usually it’s pretty unpleasant to have to be around someone when you know they have unreciprocated feelings for you,” he said.

“I don’t think they’re unreciprocated,” you said. He quite literally paused in his tracks, foot still raised in the air as he spun to face you.

“What? You should’ve said so earlier!” he said. “Do you mean I was acting all angsty and emotional for nothing?”

“I wanted to make you suffer a bit,” you said. “I mean this gently, but you deserve it.”

He hung his head. “You’re not wrong.”

“I’ve liked you for a while as well, though like you said, I hardly understood it myself, and I didn’t have the benefit of Seiko drumming it into my mind — mostly because that’s not the kind of conversation you really want to have with your best friend about her brother,” you said. “I also knew about your reputation, and no matter how wonderful I found you, I was a little wary, so I never gave it much thought.”

“But now?” he said.

“I mean, it’s kind of hard to reject a guy who runs to your house with cookies and a dramatic speech about how much he likes you,” you said.

“When you put it like that, I sound like a loser,” he said.

“I want you to consider that you play Super Smash Bros. in your free time, and that you are obsessed with anything ninja or Naruto related, and then I would like for you to repeat that statement with the same indignation you just said it with,” you said. He huffed in defeat.

“That’s fair enough,” he said.

“Like I said, I do like you, but I’m not in the business of fixing people. The second you start getting bored or wanting to cheat on me, break up with me, and be an adult about it. Don’t run away. Just be honest, and for my part, I’ll hold back my tears until you’ve left, alright? If you can swear you’ll do that, then I don’t mind trying,” you said.

“You’re way too nice to me,” he said.

“I can add in more demands, if you’d like,” you said.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to do that,” he said. You chuckled.

“I thought you were really serious about me, though?” you said. “Since you mentioned it, I do have one more condition. Say yes, and I’ll be your girlfriend. Say no, and…you better get back to searching.”

“What is it?” he said eagerly, grabbing your hands and holding them in between his own. “I’ll do anything.”

“You have to be the one to tell Seiko,” you said. He paled.

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

“Just did,” you said. He scrunched up his face in thought, obviously imagining his sister’s reaction. Though she had given both of you her blessings in her own way, there was no doubt in your mind that she’d give the two of you a hard time — especially him, considering the fact that she already did that without even having a reason to.

“I’ll do it, but you have to come along,” he bargained. “Someone has to nurse me back to health once she’s through with me. It might as well be you.”

“You’re in no place to be asking for things,” you said.

“Please?” he said. “She’s scary as hell, and I’m saying this as someone who regularly plays against guys big enough to become pro wrestlers.”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “I’ll come with you, and I’ll put bandages on all your bruises.”

He grinned at you. “Deal.”

“Deal,” you said.

“Then I guess you’re my girlfriend now,” he said.

“I guess I am,” you said.

“Nice,” he said. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

You snorted. “Why not?”

So you sat down on the sofa — next to each other this time, not on opposite sides, your head leaning on his shoulder and his thigh pressed against your own — and you did just that.

“So let me get this straight,” Seiko said. Eita, who had just delivered the news, was attempting to hide behind you, which was a largely ineffective method of disguise. “You two are officially dating.”

“Pretty much,” you said, when it became obvious that Eita was too petrified to respond. It was funny — he talked such a big game when it was just words, and he was the first to make fun of Seiko, but as soon as the prospect of a fight came up, he cowered away, as any smart man would.

“Interesting,” she said. “Eita, come here. I just want to say something.”

He shuffled out towards Seiko, head bowed and hands clasped together. “Yes?”

“If you ever hurt even a cell in the bodies of the mites that live on her eyelashes—”

“What the fuck?” you said. “That’s disgusting. Thanks, Seiko, now I’m going to be scrubbing my eyelashes for the next week.”

“Don’t worry about it, everyone has them. They’re normal,” Seiko said. “Like I was saying, Eita, if you mess with her, I’ll kill you. Forget about sibling loyalty; it all goes out the door on that day, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said.

“Good,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. He looked around like he was searching for a camera, obviously in disbelief that she had let him off so easily.

“Is that it?” he said.

“For now,” she said. “Ask me again in a few months and the answer might change.”

“I’ll take it,” he said. “Well, see you later. Let’s go upstairs, Y/N.”

“What? Y/N and I have plans to bake together tonight!” Seiko said.

“No way, we’re watching TV together! I’m going to make her watch all of Naruto!” he argued. In unison, they both turned to you, waiting for your response, waves of hostility rolling off of them.

“Oh, boy,” you said, already feeling a headache coming on. “This is going to be a lot more annoying than I anticipated.” 

[winchester-24]

Imagine you being possessed, and Dean doesn’t realize it at first

It seemed like these days, there were demons everywhere. Most of the cases you and the boys went on were demons. This case was the same. It was two towns over from the bunker, so you three were going to crash and dash their little chaos party they have going on. Sam estimated five altogether, so while being outnumbered, you three hoped the element of surprise would be on your side.

While in the backseat, you were reading a new book that Dean had picked up for you not too long ago. While you were focused on your book, Dean was focused on you. He admired how your face would change when something happened in the book, how you looked cute when you were concentrating, and how, most of the time, you had a little grin that he thought was the most adorable thing in the world. His eyes fought between concentrating on the road and concentrating on you. He never expected to fall for you, but slowly, the three of you working together over the years, you found a way into his heart. You were his best friend, and you knew almost everything about him. You accepted him, flaws and all. While he wanted to pursue more and be the one to call you his, he didn’t want to mess up what the two of you already shared. So, he would wear his best friend's title with honor and ignore the feeling he got when another guy would come around. He would pretend like he wasn’t happy when they left as well.

You, on the other hand, have loved Dean Winchester since you first met. The way his green eyes looked over you, concerned and impressed when they first met you. The first time he called you sweetheart, and over the years, the pet name princess he settled for would make your heart skip a beat every time. He would grab your hand in sticky situations to keep you close and make your face turn red at the worst time, and how he tended to you so carefully after each hunt. You have loved this man for years, but he never made a move, so you wore your best friend’s title with pride and tried not to compare yourself to the women he would pick up at the bar or try to feel that glimmer of hope when he does something that doesn’t seem entirely platonic.

The three of you came to the back of the house where the demons stayed. From the window, it looked like most of them were downstairs. Dean made the plan that he and Sammy would take the downstairs with most of them, and you would head upstairs to gank any others. When you and Dean nodded, Sam kicked the door down, and the three of you rushed in.

Upstairs, you have cleared most of the rooms. You can still hear the two boys downstairs fighting, so you are trying to be quick. You open one bedroom door and step in at first, not seeing anything, and then you get hit from behind. Two men grab you, and a woman steps forward from the dark corner of the room with black eyes. There is way more than what Sammy had initially thought.

“Hmm, you seemed to have ruined my little party.” The demon faked pouted. You looked up at her with hate in your eyes.

“Go to hell.” You replied. She bent down to your level.

“Baby, I’ve been there and don’t plan on returning.” She stood back up, and one of the men looked like they were about to hit you in the head.

“Stop!” She said suddenly. The man stopped. “I think I have a better idea.” Black smoke came out of the woman and headed directly to you. Panic struck you as the smoke entered you and down your throat. You now regret not going to get an anti-possession tattoo with the boys. She was now inside your body, and you were screaming and fighting to get out. The men let you go. She turned to them.

“Get out of here unless you want the Winchesters to kill you for touching their little trophy girl. I’ll catch up to you another time.” The men nodded, and then black smoke exited the two bodies, making them drop to the floor. The demon went and stabbed each body with your demon knife, making it look like you killed them. You are screaming the entire time to stop. She looks at you in the mirror.

“Hmm, we need a little more convincing.” She takes a different knife and cuts one of your arms, your cheek, and then cuts from your eyebrow up. She makes the one starting at your eyebrow a little deeper, and she or you hiss in pain. That cut will probably need stitches.

“Princess!” You hear Dean yell as feet are pounding up the stairs. The demon smirks in your body.

“Show time, Y/N.” She snickers and then changes her face to one of fake exhaustion.

“Dean! I’m here!” You yell. You turn and run towards the door and meet Dean at the entranceway. He immediately grabs your face and looks at the gash on your head, worry clouding in his eyes. His eyes dart behind you, and see the three bodies on the floor.

“You had to take on three of them?” He said, worry and guilt laced in his question. You nod your head.

“I’m so sorry, princess; I should have come up here with you.”

“I’m okay; I took care of it.” You speak. Sam looks behind you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N; I should have known there were more.” You turn to Sam.

“It’s okay, Sammy.” You say. You look back at Dean.

“Can we go home?” You ask, the demon trying to do your little puppy face that you learned from Sam. He nods.

“Yeah, we will go home and patch you up.” The three of you start to leave. Meanwhile, you’re screaming from inside your head, trying desperately to take control just for a few seconds. 

Back at the bunker, Dean patches your cut on your face up, careful with the stitches, eyes only leaving his work temporarily to look at you. You sit there, the demon doing her best not to give off any signs that you aren’t you.

“All done, " he says. His eyes lock onto yours, and you try to scream to him that you are not him. You take his face in your hand, and he closes his eyes and leans into it.

“Thank you, Dean.” You say softly. He looks at you.

“I should have gone with you.”

“It’s okay; I’m a big girl; I took care of them.”

“Yeah, but you got hurt.”

“You patched me up; I feel as good as new.” You smile at him. He smiles and leans over, and kisses your forehead.

“I’m glad, princess; I’m going to take a shower.” You nod your head and watch him leave. As soon as he is gone, you roll your eyes and scoff.

“You two are disgusting.” The demon says in disgust to you. You are cussing her out seven ways from Sunday, but she laughs.

“Your little Dean is so smitten with you; he has no idea something is wrong with you; he is just glad his precious little Y/N is okay.” The demon makes you giggle and then gets up. She catches sight of you in the mirror and turns her eyes black.

“This is going to be so fun.”

A week. You have been trapped in your body for a week, and neither of the boys have noticed. You have stopped fighting. It's heartbreaking that the boys can’t pick up on the fact that you haven’t been in your reading corner for a week while they do research, you haven’t cooked in a week, you haven’t gone into Dean’s room in the middle of the night, or you haven’t joined Sam in for a workout. The demon has made you more flirty with Dean, which makes you sick as it’s not you, but more that Dean is giving into it and flirting back. While you would love to be on the receiving end of the flirting, it’s not you.

Without your or the demon's knowledge. The boys have noticed a change in you. They talk about it quietly while you’re not around and share glances when you do something you wouldn’t normally do or say in front of them. At first, they thought you were shaken up from having to fight three-on-one at the house, so they let you cope, but now they suspect something else is happening with you. Dean’s heart clenches whenever you make a flirty comment to you, wishing he could believe it was you saying these things to you, but that isn’t like you to be so bold in coming onto someone. He plays along to make what he thinks is a demon in you not suspicious, but also, he can briefly believe you return his sentiment.

You just came back from the bunker, talking to the two demons who were at the house. They are planning their next move, and the demon has big plans for your body and getting the Winchester brothers. Dean is sitting in his usual spot across the library, and Sam is walking in from the bedrooms.

“Hey, princess,” Dean says, looking up at you coming down the stairs.

“Hey, handsome, miss me?” You say, smiling, flirting with him. You make your way across the library.

“Always beautiful.” He flirts back with you. You go to step to him when you can’t move. You look confused.

“What?” You say. You look around, and Dean gets up and moves the corner of the rug to show part of a devil’s trap. This grabs your attention inside your mind. The demon inside you makes your face twist into anger.

“What gave me away?” You sneer at Dean.

“Few things.” Dean cocks back at you with an attitude, hate showing in his face. While you know it's not directed at you; it still hurts you a little to see him looking at your body like that.

“Firstly,” Sam starts, “Y/N always joins me in the morning for a little bit of a workout, even if it’s just fifteen minutes to get her body going for the day. She also always goes to that little corner while Dean and I are researching; she never joins in as that is the quietest time in the bunker to get a few chapters in her book done.” Sam points to the corner when your reading nook is set up that hasn’t been touched in a week.

“Next, Y/N always cooks meals while we are here; it’s something that makes her feel like she is helping since she doesn’t research, even if it is just something small and easy.” Dean continues. “She also always comes into my room in the middle of the night. She hasn’t been in her room for a whole week in a long time. Also, Y/N is never as flirty as you have been. She has never been that direct with any man, let alone her best friend. She would never say those things to me.” Dean snarks at you, jaw clenched, eyes hard.

You laugh. “Oh, Dean,” You start. You are yelling inside your mind for the demon to shut up. “Poor little Y/N was fighting for a good while to try to get to you, but she gave up.” You say darkly. “She couldn’t bear the thought that you and little Sammy couldn’t tell it wasn’t her and making her stay trapped inside her own body, so she gave up fighting. Her little heartbreaking that you two were so comfortable with me around.” Dean faltered slightly, but his eyes got hard again; Sam stood beside him, glaring at you.

“You should hear some of the things Y/N thinks about her best friend, Dean. This girl is head over heels in love with you, and it was making her so sad that you liked me better than her; flirting with me, holding me, she just wished it was her. Y/N doesn’t think you could ever love someone like her, as she is not who you usually go for, but we know better, little Dean. You are so in love with her; you couldn’t even tell the first night you brought her back; you were just so thrilled that she was being a little more handsy with you.”

“You bitch.” Dean sneers at you. Sam and Dean grab you and tie you up to a chair. Once you are tied, Dean leans over you, getting very close to you or the demon.

“You’re going to get out of her and go back to hell where you belong,” Dean says darkly. You smile.

“Careful, Dean, you’ll turn her on being so close.” Dean goes to slap you but has to stop himself, reminding himself that you are still in there and he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Oh, you were going to hit me? Kinky Dean.” You reply seductively, trying to get a rise out of him.

“Fuck you.” He spits as Sam finds the book with the exorcism in it. Sam starts reading it, and your body starts to twitch. You look at Dean glaring.

“You know she wanted to die all week? She kept thinking about how she would rather die than have me in her body any longer. She would beg you to notice and do something, but you never did.”

“Shut up!” Dean yelled at you as Sam continued reading. The demon was gripping to stay onto you, but you could tell she was losing. You were able to take control.

“Ugh, get out of my body! Sammy, hurry up!” You yelled as your body was jerking around.

“Princess, fight it!” Dean said, getting close to you and grabbing your arms. You look at him with tears in your eyes. Then your head leans back, and the black smoke comes spilling out of your mouth before disappearing to hell, where the demon belongs. You close your eyes, breathing heavily, and little tears come down your face as the boys untie you. Dean helps you up and guides you to the couch while Sam grabs you some water. You roll your head to the side and peek your eyes open to see Dean already looking at you.

“I know that face; it’s not your fault.” You say before he has a chance to let a word out.

“I should have noticed sooner, " he responds, his hands rubbing against yours. Sam brings you the water, and you take a sip.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Sam says. You look at Sam.

“It’s not your fault, Sammy.” You say. “I’m just glad the bitch is out of me.” Sam looks at you worried.

“Was it telling the truth, Y/N? Did you want to die?” Sam asks quietly. You sigh and look at him, trying to decide how to handle the situation.

“I wanted to,” you said softly. Being able to watch what you're doing but not able to control it is the most exhausting and frustrating thing. I did things that I couldn’t stop myself from doing, and I will have to live with them for the rest of my life.” You look between the two brothers.

“But you two saved me and got me out; that’s all I can be grateful for.” You give them a small smile, and Dean looks at Sam with a pointed look. Sam gets the hint and excuses himself. Dean looks back at you.

“Was the demon lying about the other things too?” He asks quietly after a few moments of silence. Your breath hitched in your throat. You looked at him, and his eyes scanned your face, trying to figure out what you would say before you said it.

“No, it was the truth.” You finally say your heart is beating fast while looking at the other brother. Dean wastes no time leaning over and crashing his lips onto yours. He grabs your face in his hands while you drop the water bottle Sam gave you and guides your hands to his hair. You two pull away after a few moments, foreheads touching, eyes closed.

“I’ve loved you for a very long time, Dean. I never wanted to mess our friendship up, so I didn’t know how to tell you.” You whisper to him. Your eyes open to his green ones, and a smile plays at his lips.

“I love you, Princess, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for lost time.” You smile as he pulls you into another kiss. Maybe that demon was helpful for something, but you will never admit that to anyone else.

[mskenway97]

I had this in mind for some time and some ideas made me think about this story. It takes place during the course of the 'Alpha/Omega' episode of transformers prime after Optimus lost the Star Saber.

Tfp Optimus Prime x Fem!human!reader

I will stay

Words: 1,576

Summary: You haven't heard from your guardian for days, when you got the news from Jack that a new weapon had been discovered. You decided to stop by to see why he wasn't talking to you like before to discover a side of him you didn't know.

Warning: angst, sorrow, g/t content, g/t confort fluff

You knew something wasn't right, ever since he came back with his memory restored. Something was keeping you upset, you felt that he had put up a wall that you couldn't get through. That didn't happen before. You met him by chance bad timing, a detour home several Vehicons and a big robot of almost 30 ft. Since then he had taken care of you, as Ratchet refused to be the guardian, plus you were older than the children on the base to your surprise. You befriended them, but you were always intrigued by Prime, and little by little you were able to talk about various things. Seeing what caught his attention… Apart from the popular culture books of Earth and what I was dedicated to. Partly little by little you began to fall in love with this metallic giant, his kindness, his concern, his dedication to the Earth. To feel safe among his servos, or to sit on his shoulder while he worked, little details that mattered a lot to you. But at the same time they made you feel helpless, helping Miko and Raf was easy. Engaging Ratchet in conversation was a challenge. Understanding Bumblebee was a challenge. But you tried because you wanted to get to know them better. Everything started to change since Unicron showed up, the day Optimus left… Those were the worst days for you, you didn't know how much you needed him… the sound of his voice, the touch of his finger when he stroked your hair…

He came back to you but interactions started to be more limited, he would pick you up from work: Arcee or Bulkhead. Only Ratchet stayed at the base…. That made you feel partly miserable, you knew he had great work, great responsibility but at the same time you wanted to help him. That he just didn't show that stoic side to all the people. But you were only a small human, between a war of enormous titans. You could only stand by and watch, you wished you could do more, could help more. But you were just an ant in comparison…. You wished at least to see him smile, at least just once… If only you could comfort him, do something. You would do anything. This was eating you up more and more. Until the deadline came when Jack started telling you about a new weapon the autobots had found: Star Saber, it seemed they had an advantage to win, at least something that looked like they would win the war once and for all. That day you left work late at night, but you knew Optimus would be at the base, so you called Ratchet for a groundbridge. You watched with all the joy in the world. Until you saw Ratchet's long faces, the others were patrolling. You didn't understand what was going on until you saw a weapon completely destroyed.

-Ratchet, what happened? - you asked as you climbed the stairs. Ratchet sighed as he looked at the command center - Star Saber was destroyed, Megatron found a way to create his own Star Saber with Dark Energon.

-How is this possible? Solus Prime's forge can only be used by one.

-Megatron found a way… Optimus fought against him, with some injury but he will be

-Damage?! - you said as Ratchet tried to calm you down.

-He's fine. You should go home… Something in you jumped, you were sick of having to leave, of having to be pulled back - No, not this time. I'm going to talk to him. Don't even think of stopping me - you said seriously as you walked down the hallway without listening to Ratchet's words to reason with you. You moved quickly down the long hallway to get to Optimus' room, you didn't think, you acted on pure instinct and emotion. You wanted to know how he was doing, he didn't care if he tried to kick you out, he wasn't going to back down too. you weren't going to leave him behind, you weren't going to give up anymore. You tried knocking on the huge door to see that it wasn't locked, which surprised you since Optimus was always careful with his room and his secrets. He hadn't let you in either due to various reasons that the autobot leader always made an excuse for. Then you walked in to see around a room that had a huge desk, next to a bed, what appeared to be a pile of datapads on the desk table. You stood admiring the place, as you looked like a little doll or toy as you walked around. The door behind you closed, you jumped in fright. Then you saw Optimus, he seemed to be leaning on his bed. At least you had a fix on him, the problem was how to get to him.

It was not easy for you to get to the bed but with a lot of patience you climbed up one of the bed spreads, you approached carefully so that he would not crush you when he moved, you were in front of his face about to wake him up but you noticed on his face in his optics rather, there was something blue liquid. Biologically, humans and cybetronians were not so different… He was crying… You approached him carefully as you touched his faceplate, it felt cold but at the same time you heard a small engine noise, you saw that he opened the optics slowly to see your face so close to him. You thought he was going to refuse or push you away, you were about to respond but contrary to what you thought, his servo grabbed you to pull you to his chest and place you close to his spark. He was stroking your back with his other servo, feeling a great warmth but you shook your head at what you initially came for. This bot had great skill in reading your mind, he already knew why you were here.

-You were worried about me… I am sorry for my absence these days, little one. Matters have led me into situations to keep you and the rest safe. You clenched your fist, a little clenched your jaw, I was doing it again….

-Don't do it… Optimus was confused to hear you - Pardon?

-Don't you dare hide how you feel in front of me, I know you're trying to protect me…. But what matters to me is how you feel, don't you dare say it's not important, war is important. You are distancing yourself from everyone…

-Little girl, I…

-Don't you dare do this alone… When Unicron arrived you disappeared. I thought you really left - you said trying to keep your tone of voice without tears - You walked away, I don't care if it's for my protection, I don't care how many times you try to push me away, I will stay… I will not leave here - you said determinedly as you looked at the optics. There was a deafening silence between the two of you, you looked at each other with determination that your words, then you felt his arms around you squeezing you a little you felt him leaning you to his chassis. You looked at his optics to see the tears coming back to him.

The burdens of a leader are something I must keep, I stayed away for your protection. I may win some battles others I may lose them with quite a few consequences: the Star Saber, Raf's life was close too…. If it hadn't been Raf… - he said as he lifted me up to look at you better - and if it had been you, I wouldn't have forgiven myself…. The words the giant had said had hit hard in your heart, as he wrapped his servos around you as if to protect you from the world -… I can't lose you like that - he said in a low voice. That made a little more of a dent in you, but you moved closer to his face, leaned gently to his cheek as you saw that his optics were focused on you.

-I know, that's how I've been feeling these days too…. I don't want to lose you like this either.

You gave her a soft kiss on her cheek, which had the effect of sounding her engines a little as she squeezed you a little closer in her servos, you felt her nuzzle to you. You had missed these interactions so much, you had missed her too much.

-Next time, try talking to me. I know I can't share your burden, but I'll listen to you as long as it takes - you said as she put you back closer to her chassis but closer to her spark.

-I will try for you. And I will never leave you alone again - he said as you felt a big pulse of sparkle warm you up a little. That was all you needed to hear, you stayed like that for a while longer as words were not needed at that moment. Maybe when things calmed down you would tell him how you really felt about him. Just feeling his company, though, was all you needed. Maybe one day you would manage to get a smile out of him. But little by little, you felt him close your eyes to fall asleep near his chassis. Feeling at peace at last… Next to him.

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I have a few fic ideas that would be set when the reader first gets to the Night Court. I also have more Azriel imagines planned that wouldn't be in this series so look out for those! Thank you so much for all of the comments and love on this story, I appreciate it more than you know! <33

Summary: After months of healing, there is still something weighing you down and Azriel wants nothing more than to help you.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: bad body image, nudity but not straight up smut, let me know if I need to add any others :)

A few months had passed since everything happened and you were feeling better for the most part. Azriel had more than proved himself and you two were best friends again. You now trained with the Valkyries and enjoyed their company. You had also been helping Amren out with translating old texts a lot lately.

You enjoyed having work to do, you started to feel like your old self again. But there were still a few things that gnawed at you.

The main thing were the scars. The physical reminder of what you went through weighed you down. You covered yourself up as much as you could everyday so no one else saw them.

This seemed to be working for you until one day, Azriel came up to you with a big smirk on his face.

"I got you a present!" the still smirking male told you

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop buying me presents!" you told him

You had never received so many presents in your life and you doubt he has ever given this many. It started out small like bringing you a coffee while you worked, then he would buy you little things here and there like a notebook for your research. Eventually, he was buying you more expensive things like jewelry every other day.

Every time you would tell him you didn't need anything, and every time he responded with the same thing - "I can't help myself, I saw it and thought of you"

The butterflies you would feel were always better than the gifts.

Amren was sitting beside you watching the interaction with a smirk on her face.

"Hmm? A chocolate croissant this morning and now another surprise? Two in one day? Seems like a new record." she spoke in a slightly joking tone, enjoying poking fun at the spymaster

You and Az made eye contact and quickly looked away, a slight blush taking over both of your faces.

After his confession all those months ago, you both began to try and be friends again. You knew he was waiting for you to be ready for more but you weren't sure how to go about it all. It was easier to push those thoughts away for now.

Deciding to help the shadowsinger escape all the joking, you stood up to go to him. He held his hand out to you, and led you up to your room. Before entering, he put his hands over your eyes, using them as a blind fold.

"Is this really necessary?" you giggled

"Of course it is! Now walk forward" he told you and you could hear the smile in his voice

You walked, well shuffled, into your room with him close behind you. He started a countdown.

"3...2...1...Open!" he shouted, removing his hands

On the wall in front of your bed was a brand new mirror. Dread filled your body. The thought of having to see yourself every time you changed made you want to vomit.

Azriel of course noticed the reaction and immediately began to worry.

"What's wrong? You don't like it? I knew it was stupid, Cass helped me pick it out and he has the worst taste." Az babbled on.

"No, I love it." You told him. If you let him know you didn't want it, then he would want to know the real reason. You couldn't explain it all to him right now.

He gave you a look that showed he didn't fully believe you but he decided to let it go.

You gave him a hug and thanked him for it. It truly was a beautiful mirror. It was huge and had the most detailed golden flowers all around it. Perhaps you could focus on that and not the nasty marks that littered your body.

Night time came faster than you would have liked and the thought of changing in front of the mirror seemed like too much. You knew you needed to do this, another step in the healing process.

Eventually you made your way up to your room and began to get ready for bed.

You started to peel off your clothes from the day, breathing through each piece that came off. Once you were fully naked you couldn't take your eyes off of your body.

How would anyone be able to find you beautiful when you looked like this? You wrapped your arms around your stomach as tears sprung to your eyes. You began to softly cry.

Suddenly, you saw movement in the mirror behind you. You lifted your head until you were making eye contact with Azriel through the mirror.

Shadows shot out to cover you, helping you keep your modesty.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked

The name only made you shudder, knowing he wouldn't call you that after seeing your body.

"I'm hideous. My body doesn't even look like its mine anymore." you voice cracked

His heart broke for you, and he ached to hold you.

"Can I come closer?" He asked

You nodded and he walked until he was behind you, so close you could feel his chest as he took a breath.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He stated and laid his hands on your shoulders, moving them down your arm until they rested on top of your hands. He laced his fingers with yours and kissed the back of your head.

"You haven't even truly seen me to know that." you said

"I don't need to see you to know that it is true. But if you think that, then show me." he stated

"What?" you couldn't believe your ears.

"If you're comfortable, let me see." he spoke confidently

You nodded and let him know it was ok to remove the shadows. He bent down and placed a light kiss on your shoulder, right on one of the marks, then on another right next to it.

Slowly the shadows pulled away from your body and you were left compeltely naked. He was staring at your body through the mirror, in awe of you.

He walked til he was standing in front of you.

"Just tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable." He whispered

You nodded and he got even closer. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed a scar on your palm. Then moved to the other arm and kissed a scar by your elbow. He got down on his knees and looked up at you through his lashes.

"Beautiful" he said right before kissing a rather large scar on your stomach.

He didn't stop until he kissed every mark and scar on your body. He stood up and took your face in his hands.

"Yep, its just as I thought, you are the most beautiful being that I have ever seen." He spoke as he leaned down to your face

"But I'm broken, these scare are proof" you cried

"These scars are proof of your strength. When I look at you, I don't see anything broken. I see the the love of my life. I see intelligence, kindness, power... I see my mate." he confessed

You inhaled sharply and were confused until you felt it too. A tiny pull on your chest as if someone was tugging a string attached to you.

"You're my mate," he smiled then stopped himself, "I found out when Lucien carried you through the doors and none of us knew if you were even alive. I didn't want to tell you because of everything going on and I wanted to earn your love, didn't want you to feel pressured into anything."

You were so shocked, you still hadn't spoken. In a way, you were glad he kept it from you. If you had known he was your mate you aren't sure what you would've done. All of the trauma you went through must've stopped you from feeling it too.

"I understand if you don't want to accept it. After everything I did-" he started but you immediately shut down that thought

"You have more than proven yourself to me Az. You are my mate and there is nothing that could change that" You told him.

He growled softly when you called him your mate.

You both continued smiling at each other, wrapped in each other's arms.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to continue worshipping you for the rest of the night." he purred.

"It's only fair, you did say you loved groveling" you whispered and he smiled and leaned in.

"Wait!" you quickly said placing a hand on his chest.

He looked confused but you ran over to your bedside table and grabbed the chocolate croissant he had gotten you earlier. You handed it to Az with a smile.

"Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" he questioned

"It is the only thing I have been certain of in a long time." you responded and he ate some of the pastry.

He set the food down and put one of his hands on your waist, the other on your neck. Slowly he leaned in and placed a soft and gentle kiss on your lips. You wrapped your hands in his hair and pulled him down for a much longer, more passionate one and he grunted into your mouth.

The frenzy quickly kicked in and Azriel ended up worshipping your body for the next couple of days.

You still weren't fully healed and you probably wouldn't be for a while but that was okay because you had Azriel and the rest of your family to help you get there.

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[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

can I please get headcannons for the bones boys taking you out on a first date? Thank you so much for writing for bones!

A/N: anything for my bones boys

Booth would definitely do something unconventional. Something fun, unexpected, something that was a bit competitive, but mostly something where he could show off.

"Really?" you almost laughed as you stood in front of the entrance. "The fair?"

"Oh, come on. When was the last time you did something like this?" He nudged you on your shoulder, wagging his eyebrows at you.

He would then proceed to win you a giant stuffed bear at the duck shoot.

"What?" he shrugged nonchalantly, "Like's hard?"

"Not for you apparently," you teased. "Though I expect being a ranger turned FBI agent probably helps."

You started walking backwards enjoying the challenging look in his eyes.

"Are you trying to rial me up?" he questioned, smirking at you.

You leaned in close to him, enjoying the way his breathing increased. "Depends, how easy do you fluster?"

You pulled away, making your way towards the ring toss.

"Oh, I see how it is," Booth shouted as he trailed after you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

The first date with Booth would solely about getting to know you, making you laugh, and gauging just how comfortable he could be around you. It would absolutely end with him being a giant tease and kissing you on the corner of your mouth or your temple.

Hodgins, rich (so rich he doesn't even know how rich), Hodgins would try and impress you. At least that was his first thought. Private and obscenely expensive dinner? Check. Expensive car to get you there? Check.

But like many things in Jack's life, it never really went according to plan.

"Oh, come on!" Jack grumbled at the flat tire. "I just had the car serviced. I can't believe this."

It was only when you started laughing that he relaxed enough to look at you.

"What?" He asked a bit in disbelief. Crushing thoughts about how this was the worst first date to never actually even start diminished at the sight your smile.

"I don't think I've seen you this stressed since you tried to hide TNT experiment from Cam," you said laughter dying down.

"Hey, that civil war exhibit didn't need it as much as us," he reasoned, a smile now stretching across his own face as he leaned against his car.

You mirrored his movements, shoulder pressed against his as you leaned against the car.

"I wanted this to be perfect. But just about everything seems to have gone wrong."

"Well, it's a good thing the night isn't over yet," you looked around. "You know, I think we're close to the diner."

"You can't be serious," he laughed. A mixture of disbelief and awe.

"Dead. I never needed anything fancy anyways - just you Jack."

From that moment, he knew that he wasn't ever going to mess it up. You were it for him.

Sweets would want to do anything where the two of you could just talk. We know he's done a pottery class before so something along those lines. Really anything where he got to just look at you with a big grin on his face and listen to every word that came out of your mouth.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Your chicken is burning."

"Oh, shit."

You let out a laugh that made him forget all about the charred chicken. He, in hindsight, should have known better than to plan a cooking class as your first date. Not when you distracted him so easily he could chop a finger off. Definitely not his best idea.

"Here, we can just share mine," you said as you fed him some of your food. All teasing smiles and delicious prolonged eye contact.

Definitely not his worst date idea.

Wendell is one for simplicity. He wants to get to know you, but he also doesn't want to go overboard and scare you off. He'd plan for a simple dinner (your pick) and make a walk around the city.

The street lights illuminated the city, a cool breeze rushing past you. You tried your best not to seem cold - you'd opted for looks- not practically. Now you were paying the price for it.

A sudden rush of warm hit you, you looked up at Wendell who'd wordlessly placed his jacket over your shoulders.

"Wendell-"

"Don't even mention it. Can't have you getting sick now, can I?" He gently nudged your shoulder with his own as you walked side by side. "Wouldn't want you to rain check the next date."

"The next one?" you prodded - warmth washing over your cheeks. "Someone is presumptuous," you teased.

"Nah, just optimistic," He smiled brightly at you. "So, what do ya say?"

"I think your odds are looking pretty good," you looped your arm to hold on to his.

Wendell wouldn't necessarily consider himself a betting man, but he'd say he won out on this one.

Vincent was quiet sure how he'd managed it. It was all a bit of blur if he was honest. One second you both were discussing how no number before a thousand contains the letter a, and the next he had asked you out. And you'd said yes.

He almost thought he'd dreampt it, really. You'd had to call out his name twice before he blinked himself back into reality.

Now he stood in front of your door holding flowers that were wilting away by the second - he swore he'd just gotten them and they looked pristine.

He let out a sigh, knuckles frozen over the door. This would be, fine. You already said yes. Oh, God.

Knuckles knocking against the door, he frantically smoothed out his hair.

"Vincent!"

You leaned in for a hug, crushing the flowers, but he couldn't bring himself to care. You pulled away giving him this brilliant smile that put him at ease.

"Are those for me?"

"Wha- yes. Yes, they are for you." He handed you the roses. "Did you know over 30,000 rose varieties exist today?"

You let out a small laugh, eyes still sparkling. "I didn't, but thank you for telling me."

That smile of your really did put him at ease. This would be fine - this would be great - because he was with you.

When Colin asked you to go out with him to the Slasherthon at the local movie theater he wasn't actually sure you'd say yes. But he figured the worst you could say was no - or you know, laugh at him until he fell into an endless abyss of shame.

Either would be fine.

He expected the abyss.

He did not expect you to say yes. Let alone actually show up. But there you were in a Jason Voorhees t-shirt all smiles as he walked up to you.

"Are you ready for lots of gore and eating our weight in popcorn?" You asked practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. He'd never seen anything more lively or beautiful in his life.

"A person after my own heart," he said dramatically - hand placed over his own heart.

"Come on, Colin," you grabbed his hand pulling him into the theater. As you led him away he realized the abyss option would have been much worse than he had anticipated.

You were a light shining into his abyss.

Aubrey would take you to a nice sit down restaurant. He spent the better half of the week trying to decide where exactly to take you. He'd finally settled on a restaurant you had been talking about trying for a month now.

"Aubrey, how did you know I wanted to eat here?" You asked, leaning forward. Your eyes excitedly bouncing between the menu and Aubrey.

"You've been talking about it," he shrugged, trying his hardest to be nonchalant about it.

"Aubrey- I mentioned it once, like, a month ago." You laughed a bit in disbelief.

"And?"

"And how do you remember something like that?"

"It sounded important to you, why wouldn't I want to remember it?"

He'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed that look on your face. A mixture of disbelief and being heard - actually heard.

"Now, I'm thinking we go family style on this bad boy and see what all the fuss is about." Aubrey leaned forward, both of you so close to the other. If the flowers in the middle of the table weren't in the way he just might have leaned in for kiss.

"You sure you can leave some food for me?" You teased, your eyes sparkling in a way that made Aubrey realize he never wanted to see your eyes without it.

"Sweetheart, I'd leave all of it for you if you asked."

"Liar," you laughed.

"Alright some of it, but that's better than none!"

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki prepare for their school trip, and it is, of course, chaotic.

            PK Academy was buzzing with excitement for the Okinawa trip. Yumehara and Teruhashi were especially excited because they wanted to spend time with Saiki. That meant they had to join his group. Of course, the obvious answer was to first ask (Y/N) to ask the boys (since they had already roped them into their group), but they were over with Saiki, and neither wanted to embarrass themselves in front of their crush. They tried to ask the other guys, but Teruhashi’s fan club became too exuberant in trying to get her to join them. So, now the girls (plus (Y/N)) were joining boy groups by a lottery system. Teruhashi, of course, was first up. She walked up to the box and rummaged around in it for a second.

            Yare yare. I feel bad that (Y/N) won’t be in my group, but I can’t have them and Yumehara there, too.

            “I choose this one!” declared Teruhashi.

            “Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s group,” announced Hairo.

            “From here on, if you wanna talk to Teruhashi, talk to me first,” said Takahashi proudly as the other boys yelled in outrage.

            (Y/N) sighed. I wanted to be in Saiki’s group…

            Teruhashi and Yumehara felt the same way. They were very disappointed.

            “So Teruhashi’s group will join Takahashi’s, but what about the rest?” asked Hairo. “Shall we decide the rest via raffle as well?”

            The boys just mumbled about not caring. (Y/N) sweat-dropped. A girl from another group finally walked up and picked out another group.

            “Ugh, we got Nendou? Being in Nendou’s group is like, totes the worst!” she spat while her group nodded. “Like, can we pick again? This, like, totes kills the trip for us.”

            “Then our group will switch with theirs!” volunteered Teruhashi angelically.

            “T-Teruhashi?!” stammered Takahashi’s group.

            (Y/N) brightened. They knew Saiki wouldn’t enjoy having Teruhashi and Yumehara with him, but they really wanted to be in his group. They were friends with him and the others in the group, after all.

            “That is, if Nendou and the other two are okay with it,” continued Teruhashi.

            Everyone was amazed at the perfect pretty girl wanting to be in Nendou’s group. However, it didn’t last long as they all thought about how kind and selfless she was for doing it. It made her more perfect to them. The class began to cheer for their goddess.

            Yare yare. The only good thing about this is (Y/N) being in my group. Other than that…I’m just stuck with two more bothers.

            The class seemed to be satisfied with the rest of the results. Then, Hairo got called over by the teacher. When he returned to the room, his face was slightly crestfallen (as much as Hairo could be).

            “Which of you are in Mera’s group?” asked Hairo.

            “Oh, we are,” said (Y/N), raising their hand.

            “It looks like she can no longer go on the trip with us,” said Hairo.

            “Aw, why?” asked (Y/N).

            “Apparently, they couldn’t catch as many bluefin tuna as they wanted,” explained the class rep. “It’s unfortunate, but we can’t do anything about it. So it’s been decided that we’ll do groups of eight instead of groups of seven. Two of the members of Teruhashi’s group have to join another.”

            Instantly, Teruhashi and Yumehara glanced at (Y/N), who was humming pleasantly. They were better friends with the boys, so they were the obvious choice to stay in the group. Other people were also pulling them away.

            Looks like God is on my side.

l

            Saiki sighed in annoyance as he listened to Makoto prattle on and on about the “perverted” things Saiki was “thinking” and how he would be there to stop Saiki from doing anything. It was really quite disturbing how detailed Makoto was getting. Saiki was prepared to just not go, but…he could hear Mera and (Y/N) passing by. Mera was sad about not being able to go, and (Y/N) was disappointed their friend couldn’t come.

            That did it.

            Alright, Teruhashi. You win.

l

            “What shall we do, teacher?” asked Hairo.

            (Y/N) had been bouncing up and down in excitement at the trip, but they were starting to get nervous since it might be canceled now.

            “This isn’t good…” said the teacher.

            Suddenly, the PA system announced, “Due to a typhoon, the flight to Okinawa scheduled for ten o’clock has been temporarily suspended at this time.”

            (Y/N) sighed and slumped in their seat. “What bad luck…”

            “When I was finally able to go,” mourned Mera.

            Saiki sighed as the depressed thoughts of his friends bothers flooded him.

            “Excuse me, if the flight gets canceled, will the school trip be postponed?” asked a student.

            “No, it’ll be canceled,” said Matsusaki.

            “What?!” cried everyone.

            “I want you to go…but it’s out of my hands,” said Matsusaki sadly.

            “Teacher!” cried the students.

            “Don’t give up, guys!” shouted Hairo, clearly trying to delude himself. “It’s not like the flight has been canceled! One, two, sun! Don’t give up! Come on, guys! Cheer with me!”

            (Y/N) just sighed gloomily.

            Yare yare, even their endless sunniness is dampened. I can’t keep watching this. He couldn’t have (Y/N) upset. He liked them happy. Saiki teleported away for a moment before returning, soaking wet.

            “Hey! The flights back on!” chirped (Y/N) happily. “The news says the typhoon suddenly disappeared!” They grinned and then cocked their head. “Saiki? Why are you wet?”

            “Never mind it.” He smiled a tiny bit. “Now, let’s take that school trip.”

            “Yeah!” cheered (Y/N).

            Finally, PK Academy boarded the plane and was off to Okinawa. (Y/N) took out headphones and leaned back in their seat. While Yumehara, Teruhashi, and Mera were talking, they decided to take a nice long nap. They wanted as much energy as possible when they arrived in Okinawa.

l

            “The ocean looks so beautiful!” said (Y/N), looking out the bus window.

            “It’s so green!” said Nendou. “I wonder if someone’s dumpin’ some paint out there. Right, pal, pinky?”

            (Y/N) just grinned and shook their head.

            “Hey, (Y/N)!” called Yumehara. “Look!” She opened her shirt, revealing a bikini top.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and they looked away. “Yumehara!”

            “Don’t take your clothes of here!” Teruhashi blushed.

            “It’s just a bathing suit,” explained Yumehara.

            “That makes more sense,” said (Y/N). “Stripping on the bus doesn’t seem your thing. I’m guessing you’re excited about the beach?”

            “Totally!” said Yumehara.

            “Me, too,” said Teruhashi.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I can’t wait to go. I bought a new swimsuit for the occasion.”

            “Oh, are you not wearing a guy’s swimsuit this time?” asked Yumehara.

            “No, I went for a two-piece,” said (Y/N). “I thought I’d have fun.”

            “I got a bikini, too,” remarked Teruhashi.

            “We’ll be like a fashion show!” commented (Y/N), beaming as the bus stopped.

            “Ooh, finally, we’re getting food!” Mera was drooling at the thought.

            She quickly pulled everyone into the building the teachers were escorting them into. They were all sat down in groups around tables and given food.

            “So, this is Okinawa soba, huh? It doesn’t look like soba at all,” said Nendou.

            “Well, one difference is that they don’t use buckwheat flour, so—,” said Yumehara.

            “Whatever it is, it looks good! Let’s chow down!” Nendou began eating.

            “Kuwachii sabira,” said Kaidou in the Okinawan dialect.

            Everyone stared blankly at him.

            “Yep! Maasan! This is ippee maasan,” said Kaidou as he ate.

            “Sure! Maasan!” chirped (Y/N).

            “Don’t start,” said Saiki, giving them a look.

            They laughed sheepishly while Kaidou continued attempting the Okinawan dialect.

            “He’s trying too hard.”

            “Th-Th-That’s amazing, Kaidou,” said Teruhashi, struggling to get the lie out.

            “I can’t remember them at all,” said Yumehara.

            “That’s fine!” said Kaidou. “Even if you don’t get ushinaa guchi, nankura naisa!”

            “He was excited for that phrase,” observed (Y/N).

            Finally, after an excruciatingly incomprehensible narration of the meal by Kaidou, the group finished eating and left the restaurant.

            “We still have some time left. Do you wanna stop by the souvenir shop?” asked Mera.

            “Sure!” (Y/N) nodded. With that, the girls enjoyed the time until dinner with some light shopping.

l

            “Now this is what a school trip’s all about!” cheered three boys at the hot springs. “Peeping!”

            Yare yare. Hearing their thoughts makes me feel gross.

            “Actually, I came once before to check things out,” said one boy.

            “To Okinawa?!” cried Takahashi. “That’s commitment, Murata!”

            “The hotel switches the men’s and women’s baths each day. I have a good grasp of the other side, too,” said Murata.

            “Wow…I can’t even find words…” said the third boy, impressed.

            “But it’ll all be worth it…to get a peek at her!” declared Murata, clearly thinking of Teruhashi. “The best place to peek is under that light.”

            I’ll block their line of sight.

            “What is she’s already gotten out?” asked Takahashi.

            “They might not compare to Teruhashi, but Mera and (L/N) are pretty hot as well,” said the third.

            Saiki stopped his movements. Yare yare. I guess I’ll have to handle this differently.

            As the three used periscopes to try to look over the fence, Saiki twisted the tops around. The boys were met with the horrifying picture of a naked Nendou.

            I don’t understand what the big deal about naked bodies is— Saiki accidentally looked through the fence with his x-ray vision. He could see (Y/N) in the water with their back turned. It was more of them than he had ever seen. Oh, wow. He immediately looked away. He had not expected that reaction to them. Shaking his head, he dispelled the thoughts, but they continued to bob in his head. Yare yare. I’m going down to the beach to get away from all of this.

            If Saiki had known the situation would just get worse, perhaps he wouldn’t have lay down on that beach chair that night.

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[haikyu-mp4]

Nervous laughter

word count; 1190 – gn!reader, meet cute

You’re generally considered very attractive, and some would even say the cafe you work in has gained more popularity since you started working there. Your smile lights up the room, you have fun quips with the customers and you make some decent coffee. However, if you ask one of your friends why you are still single, they might say it’s because you can be a bit clumsy. Scratch that, very clumsy. And you also have this fun quirk when you get nervous. You laugh! So much! It’s an unfortunate combination, really, but you’ve survived so far.

It’s not a very busy time, but enough people were coming in and out that you’re going on auto mode. You were making drinks, serving them, greeting customers and clearing tables all at a slightly faster pace. As you pass by one of the other baristas, you throw them a high five before picking up the next coffee, walking right out past the bar when your whole routine is disturbed. If only you had been more cautious, which you tell yourself every time. Someone stepped in your path and now you’ve spilled coffee on their crisp white shirt and the cup you were supposed to give to a customer was shattered on the ground.

Kuroo had a bad day. It wasn’t the worst one he’s ever had, but nothing seemed to be going quite right. He loves his job, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like some days were tougher to get through and on those days, he couldn’t wait to get home. A forgotten meeting, a stubbed toe and a rejected opportunity are only a few of the things he dealt with already. However, he still had to meet Bokuto later so he decided his only bet was a good cup of coffee. His hair looked a little more dishevelled than usual as he stepped inside the little cafe he found, moving towards the back of the room so he could go to the toilet and maybe try to fix his hair before taking a break with his coffee. Unfortunately, he didn’t get that far.

Now he’s staring down at his ruined shirt, then looking up at you in disbelief, already prepared to somehow convince you that it’s okay even though it’s not.

But you’re full-on laughing. Leaned over, hands on your thighs, and laughing!

This is simply outrageous. He huffs but blinks in surprise when he realises he’s actually smiling. Your laugh sounds so nice, it’s like a superpower that distracted him from anything else that wasn’t as nice.

“I am SO sorry!” you gasp out through your laughter, finally squatting down to pick up some pieces of the cup before standing up to look at him with light tears in your eyes.

“You sure don’t sound very sorry!” he answered, raising an eyebrow at you as your laughter finally started to die down. He looked around, making people whip their gazes back to what they were doing before so he wouldn’t see how everyone was staring at the possible meet cute.

“Please, can I replace your shirt or something? Or wash it for you?” you suggest, cheeks heated up from embarrassment, attention and laughter.

He huffs. “Can’t really wash it unless you want me to take my shirt off right here,” he said, growing more confident when he realised you were actually nervous.

“Are you offering?” you asked without thinking, making the two of you stare at each other before you burst out laughing again, waving your hand in front of your face to cool it down. “Forget I said that, I need to clean this up but please stick around for a moment, if you can?”

He looked at his wristwatch for effect, thought about it for a moment and then agreed. “Fine, but you better get me a fancy coffee while I wait.”

“Of course, it’s on me.”

So he sat there for a while, sipping on the coffee you brought him. It was something he hadn’t tried before, and it seemed to loosen his headache in the weirdest way. Coffee isn’t supposed to do that. Maybe it had something to do with the way you smiled and pursed your lips when you handed it to him, seeming like you had to keep yourself from laughing nervously again. It made him scoff in disbelief, but it wasn’t in a malicious manner at all. Perhaps rather affectionately.

Kuroo looks up from his phone when you finally come to sit down, then back at his phone to tell Bokuto he would be a little late before pocketing the phone altogether. “This coffee is really good,” he commented. “What is it?”

“I have no idea, I begged my coworker to make something that said ‘sorry for ruining your shirt’ to a handsome guy,” you said, sheepishly rubbing your neck. Kuroo smiled in disbelief, somehow finding you even more interesting every minute he spent with you.

“Don’t worry about it, I have more shirts,” he said, shrugging it off. “But maybe you’d let me take you out this weekend?”

“I know I ruined your shirt, but at least tell me your name first.”

A little over 1 year later.

Kuroo brought you along to a friend’s party, if you even called it that at your age when friends got together to catch up and brought their partners or complained about their lack thereof.

He used to be one of the latter. Some even witnessed him make puke-like sounds when someone kissed, usually earning him a punch in the arm. But now he’s watching you with heart eyes as you look around for him after exiting the kitchen. Your face lights up as your eyes find him, lifting your hand to give him a wave before making your way over, but you don’t get that far. Akaashi was exiting the kitchen with a plate of fruit and your hand knocked into it. Thankfully, he managed to hold onto the plate, but half the fruits he had arranged so nicely slid right off to the floor.

Kuroo was clutching his stomach for dear life as he laughed like a hyena, and it clashed so badly with your nervous laughter that kept bubbling from your throat as you leaned your hands on your thighs and tried picking up grapes at the same time.

Everyone else were just watching you, shaking their heads in amusement as Kuroo finally walked over to kiss your cheek and calm you down. You’ve been together for about a year at this point and all his friends – who are now your friends too – know this scene by now. As you catch your breath, you apologise to Akaashi who just waves it off with a smile and goes back in the kitchen to get more. Your boyfriend helps you throw away the fruit that couldn't be eaten anymore before leading you out on the balcony for some air.

Kuroo never really believed in destiny, but he’s sure you were made to be with him. After all, he just left Bokuto’s side right after asking if 1 year is too early to propose.

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