#Fun fact: I did the show when I was five with a broken arm!

[thatboleyngirl77]

I FOUND THE SOUNDTRACKS FOR THE SCHOOL PRODUCTIONS I DID IN PRIMARY OH MY GOD

AND WHEN I TELL YOU I REMEMBERED EVERY LYRIC AS SOON AS I HEARD IT. IT WAS LIKE MUSCLE MEMORY OR SOMETHING

[nburkhardt]

Here is an angsty thing with a happy ending! (Please note: this takes place BEFORE seasons 3 & 4 but after demodogs.)

Pray for the Ground to Swallow Me Whole

He’ll eventually thank her for the domino effect she caused. It’ll be the best thing to happen to him, even if it meant leaving town very premature.

But for now, his heart hurts and his eyes are burning from holding the tears back. For now he’ll stand here and listen to words that’ll haunt him, to faintly be reminded of times when he was an ignorant asshole that only cared about himself and didn’t bother thinking of his actions.

Truthfully, he sorta thought this would happen.

The only ones who actually actively engaged with him was the kids, especially Dustin and Lucas. But if he was being truly honest with himself, a nasty voice in the back of his head always told him they just liked him because he saved them. He tried not letting that get to him.

Currently though? That nasty voice is whispering and it’s not just a voice in his head anymore.

The voice just sounds a lot like Joyce Byers.

“- you did help him and I’ll always be grateful for that. Honestly. But I also remember him coming home from school and telling me about this kid, this jerk who laughed and poked fun at him,” Joyce stops to take a breather, crossing her arms and looking disappointed as if he wasn’t already used to that kind of look, “It actually makes me very uncomfortable to have you around, you have to understand that?”

He choked down a defense and sob, blinked hard before looking away with a nod. Listening to this for the last twenty minutes has broken him down faster than Nancy calling him “bullshit”.

“Yes, Mrs. Byers, I’ll-I’ll leave your family alone”

She nodded, “I’d appreciate that, Steve. But I’m not just talking about my family”

He’s hit with ice and dread. Freezes up and looks back at her, “wha-what do you mean? I’m sorry, I’m confused”

“I don’t think it’s really appropriate for you to be around Will and his friends. With my knowledge of what Jon told me about you and the fact you are five years older than them. It would make a lot of their parents uncomfortable too. Don’t you know that?” She’s speaking softly now, like she’s talking to a scared animal.

And maybe she is, he feels like it.

He shakes his head, not to her though. To himself, shaking the memories of hang outs with the Henderson family. Memories of Claudia Henderson making extra food- “just in case, dear! You can even have leftovers for tomorrow!” And Dustin biking over just to tell him about the newest movie he wants to see- “we absolutely have to go, Steve! It’s gonna be a classic, trust me!”

The memory of Claudia hugging him close, telling him “such a blessing, sweetie! You’ll always be welcomed here” that still makes him cry late at night in his empty quiet home.

He avoids looking at Joyce, trying to figure out a way to get away.

“I- uh, I gotta, if you’ll excuse me” he mumbles and doesn’t smile or even look directly at her. Just moves around her to leave, as he walks out and overhears the excited voices calling for him, he ignores them and keeps his head down to avoid showing them how red his cheeks are in embarrassment and how much he’s holding back tears.

Without saying goodbye, he gets into his car and drives.

He doesn’t know how long he drives, doesn’t know where he’s going. Just driving to get away, to avoid listening to Joyce’s words that are already taunting him in his head. Slowly mixing in with “you’re bullshit” and “run away, Steve, always running away!” and all the disappointed sighs and taunts from his father.

The car picks the location for him, gas running low and he’s forced to stop at Lovers Lake. Pulling to a stop and turning his car off, he sits in silence. Staring ahead at the lake, eyes still burning.

It’s a long time as he just sits there. In silence.

Rubbing his eyes to get the tears to go away, there’s no reason to cry. She is right, he was an asshole and it is inappropriate for a eighteen year old to hang around thirteen year olds.

Even more inappropriate to hang around a house where he isn’t welcomed.

He rests his head against the steering wheel, arms around it and his knuckles turning white from how hard his gripping the wheel. His eyes burn and he laughs a bitter sound, lightly hitting his head against the wheel. “Fucking, knock it off, get yourself together” he mumbles and it’s weak, he chokes back another sob as he squeezes his eyes shut.

There’s a knock on his window that makes him flinch hard, eyes are wide and he’s immediately aware of how fucking stupid he was to let his guard down like that. Looking next to him he flinches again, not because he’s scared but because of who’s standing there.

Of all the people to find him right now, during probably his lowest point ever, is the local drug dealer. The twice senior and King of the Freaks, Eddie Munson.

“Hey man, uh, you okay?”

Shaking his head, he rests it back on his headrest taking a breath before rolling the window down. Munson takes a step back, he only knows because of the chains hanging from the guy’s pants.

“All good, Munson” he lies straight through his teeth, he doesn’t need to see how red his face is with how warm it feels. And his hands actually hurt now from how hard he was gripping the wheel, “i didn’t- uh, see anything.”

Since he’s leaning his head back on the headrest with eyes closed, he doesn’t see how Munson reacts. The only noise is just nature, birds chirping and the wind hitting leaves. He doesn’t even hear Munson moving, so opening his eyes he looks over and finds the guy standing there with an odd look on his face.

“Look, I’ll just- fuck,” he knocks his head back before rolling the window up and turning his car off, climbing out and avoiding looking directly at the guy. “I’m gonna just go”

Doesn’t bother waiting for something back, it’s been long enough in his own pity party. Now, he just needs to walk home and figure out how he’ll go about life without seeing the Henderson family and the rest of the kids.

“Are you walking? What the fuck, just leaving your car here?” Munson shouts out at him.

He glances back at his car then at Munson, slowing to a stop. “Why do you care?”

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, why would this guy care whether he leaves his car here? It’s only Hawkins, no one is going to steal his car. You’re more likely gonna come across a monster around than a stolen car.

Especially not at Lover’s Lake. Also why care about him? He’s an asshole and everything Munson hates and loudly announces at lunch.

He shakes his head and starts walking again, taking the silence that Munson doesn’t actually care about him. It doesn’t hurt to admit another person doesn’t like him, he honestly would be shocked if someone did like him.

What really hurts is the fake worry, the questioning, the fake concern and the curiosity.

He’s going to continue to walk home that’ll take him a few hours and will only make it back by dark. Without a weapon, without the bat to hold, because he left that in his car and Munson is still here. Can’t let him ask anymore questions.

“-sus Christ! Jesus, slow the fuck down Harrington!” Munson sounds out of breath, a lot closer too.

He flinches when a hand lands on his arm, “What? What do you want?” He turns and shakes the hand off, “if someone steals it, whatever. It- it doesn’t matter.”

Munson squints at him, looking confused, “Dude, wait, why are you crying?”

Touching his face, he laughs and it sounds so wrong. He is crying, didn’t even realize it was happening. Shaking his head, he turns around and doesn’t bother answering.

“Come on, Harrington!” Munson grabs hold of his shoulder and his grip is rough, “look, I’m sorry if you want to be alone but fuck, dude, you look like shit and crying alone is the worst. So, why don’t I give you a ride to whoe-“

Shaking his head, “like I have anyone to run to right now”

There’s a flash of Claudia and Dustin Henderson in his head and he wants, thinks that they’d shake him and hug him tight if they knew what was said and how it’s haunting him already. Won’t go away, it just brings more tears.

Munson’s silent and his hand drops, leaving behind a faint pressure and that hurts too.

“God, I’m so pathetic right now.”

“Nah, just lonely it seems”

His eyes snap to Munson and his hands are shoved into his jacket, kicking his foot before looking back at him, “I won’t judge, seriously. Let me help, even if it’s just to give you a ride”

“Just a ride?”

Munson nods, “just a ride, unless you change your mind”

He nods, taking a deep breath before stepping towards Munson, “okay, you can, um. Take me home?”

A smile spreads across Munson’s face and he takes his hands out to swing them towards where his van most likely is, “your chariot awaits, good sir!”

Despite his mood and how this might possibly be one of the worst days of his life, he cracks a tiny smile. Just enough to squeeze at his heart, actually.

Walking along side Munson is quiet, it’s a little peaceful. If he remembers correctly, Munson was never this quiet before. Always talking or laughing or yelling, he’s loud and sometimes overly obnoxious.

This is nice. Actually really nice, this quiet with him.

They make it to the van and the ride isn’t the same quiet but it’s still there. He can feel it deep in his bones now.

That this, right here, is peaceful.

Hello! This whole thing originally started back in May and I lost a little interest in this particular WIP, so I stopped and it’s been in my drafts since. Then I kept getting writers block, still have it tbh. But I read it back today and decided I can technically turn this into a two part fic instead of a one shot soo, it’s finally being shared!

I want to be clear that it’s an AU from after the demodogs and everything after that won’t be the same. And that I have nothing against Joyce but I thought “what if it was someone else than made Steve leave/didn’t like Steve?” guess who I picked 😇 plus we have enough Hopper & Joyce adopt Steve fics, we need a little more of them not doing that. Also!! There should be more fics of them being wrong, that they’re being judgmental and need consequences for their words & actions.

Anyway! I’m automatically assuming only a few people will read this far into my rambling. And if you did I love you, you get a platonic forehead kiss ☺️

Permanent Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @strangersteddierthings

[caffinedragon]

This started off as a funny image in my head but then got away with me.

Plot: Talon(tav) spies Wyll reading one of the books he wrote years ago, a specific special limited edition version in fact and decides to have a little fun. Fun that turns into some much needed comforting for his favorite lonely folk hero.

Takes place during the shadow curse and shortly after the dance scene.

As he got to the final turn before the entrance he took a deep and steadying breath, praying to the God of Dragons it was just some new armored fool trying to test thier metal.

But when he turned that corner, the armor, cloak, shield and sword marked with the symbol of Amethysts Knights, combined with the symbol of domination drawn on his forehead, were unmistakable.

He felt his heart start to break as Sir Gilmore readied his sword and shield at his approach, battle stance at the ready and eyes far away.

"Roland?" He tried as he took a few tentative steps towards him but kept out of reach of his weapons.

There was a beat of silence. Then another. Then...his eyes focused on their own.

Roland sighed as tears filled his eyes and his arms relaxed, dropping his sword and shield into the dirt.

"You were right." A shaky soft version of his normal earthy tenor laughed. It was a broken thing filled with both relief and not a little bit of anger. "The mages have no true magic. They have no power over me. They never did."

He watched with pride and relief as Roland began ripp8ng away the signs if his former allegiance.

"Fuck... They did the whole ritual." He tossed his cloak to the floor. "Did all their chanting and speeches." He ripped off the badge on his armor. "Drew the symbol on my forehead." He wiped the mark off. "Even ordered me to come kill you." He pulled off the chain mail and greaves, letting them drop to the floor. "So I figured..." He kicked off his armored boots hard enough to slam against the cave wall and leave a dent. "Let them think I'm dead."

He let out a sigh of relief and smiled, his chest warm and happy for his knight's new found freedom.

"So, what now?" He asked as Roland walked up to him, clothed in only the faded burgundy shirt and as equally faded brown leggings that left little to the imagination.

"Now..." He looked into his eyes, the deep ocean blue of his irisis shining with a hunger he thought would never be pointed in his direction. "I finally let myself go after what I want for a change."

He could feel his old dragon heart start to race and his veins burn with want.

"And what is that?"

Roland didn't say, but when he reached up and pulled Talthorian down to slam his mouth into his, he didn't need too.

Talon smiled warmly as he read over Wyll's shoulder, recognizing the book he was currently engrossed in. So engrossed in fact, that he had been standing there for a solid five minutes, his 6'4" half dragon frame dwarfing The Blade of Frontiers, as he quietly leaned over his shoulder without the man even glancing in his direction.

You would think he would have noticed the dark blue, silver eyed tielfing adjacent looking man by now but apparently not.

Not that he minded much.

Being this close to him allowed him to see the gentle blush beneath his dark skin as he sank deep into one of the spicier parts of his book. Combined with The way he was lightly chewing on the tip of his thumb, the scent of arousal on his skin and the little gasps he tried to hide as his heart raced were making him want to throw the man over his shoulder and show him a real life demonstration of what he was reading.

But, Wyll made it clear that he wanted to go slow so he behaved.

Instead he decided to play with him a little, something he did often as a way to show affection, and waited until he got to the page where Taltharion gave his Knight exactly what he had begged for a two pages prior. Once he got to the page where the dragon slowly sank into his knight like he deserved, Talon leaned forward so he was right next to Wyll's ear and with a purr in his voice very similar to Astarion's but a bit deeper and rougher said,

"If you ever want to know what that's like...I'm right here."

The response was immediate, adroable and hilarious.

"Baldrun's knickers!" WYll shouted as he jumped away, tripping over his own feet.

In order to prevent him from stumbling straight into the campfire, Talon lashed out with his reptilian but still prehensile tail and used it to grab a belt loop and pull him towards him. The sudden change in direction made Wyll loose his balance for a second time but with much more pleasant results.

Instead of tripping towards the fire, he fell nearly face first into Talon's broad, cloth covered chest, still holding the book in his arms.

Before Wyll could right himself and pull away, Talon wrapped his arms around his shoulder's, smiling mischievously at him.

"Well, hello there." He smirked as he lessened his grip so Wyll could at least stand up straight. "Find your feet?"

"Not without you scaring the life out of me first." He scowled halfheartedly as he pressed the book to his chest.

"Couldn't help myself." He grinned with his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth.

"I have a feeling you did not try very hard." He mock glared at him.

"Nope." He smirked playfully, "Besides, It let me catch myself a rare Blade of Frontier's. Whatever shall i do with him, i wonder?" He smiled in a teasing manner, keeping his grip tight enough to keep him still but not too tight to where he couldn't easily break out of it if he chose.

Which Wyll didn't.

He instead just sighed, annoyed but with a warm smile on his face as he played along.

"Swap stories over the campfire perhaps?" Talon asked himself, pretending to think of options. "Sparring contest in the middle of camp, that would be fun." He nodded to himself, before he locked eyes with Wyll, a much more sultry grin appearing on his face. "Or..."

Wyll raised an eyebrow, "Or?"

He slipped the deep purr into his voice again, "I could through our young hero over my shoulder, take him out to the woods, lay him down and devour him like a good man deserves. How's that sound?"

There was a split second where he could tell Wyll was considering it, but two blinks later the blush returned to his face and he shoved him away from him with an amused scoff.

"Your an ass."

"With a great one." Talon fired back as he turned around and wiggled said ass back and forth tail snapping with sass.

Wyll just pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, the same fond smile on his face.

When Talon turned back around he put his hands behind him, resting them on the small of his back.

"Sooo..." He slowly approached again but keeping his hands to himself this time. "Couldn't help but notice what you were reading. That is one of my books, isn't it?"

"Heh." He chuckled awkwardly, scratching his jaw with a finger. "I suppose you have caught me."

"Of course. I know my own writing, however..." He glanced down at the copy he was holding knowing full well none of his copies were missing. "That..." -he pointed at the book- "isn't one of my copies."

Wyll's face started to redden again, "No. It's um...mine."

"Oh?" He held out a hand, "May I see it?"

"Why?" He asked as he handed it too him.

"I could sign it for you. Put a nice little message in it...make it saucy."

"You already did."

"I did?"

Wyll flipped open the cover of the book and read the inside. "To my hero, the Blade of Baldur's Gate, may you aspire to be a mighty knight like Sir Gilmore and one day find a dashing dragon of your very own. T.A. Silverscale."

It was then, as the firelight hit the front cover, he recognized the design.

The engraving in the cover was a short lived design that showed Sir Gillmore wrapped up in a passionate embrace with Taltharion that showcased the dragons, horns, wings and thick tail that accompanied his more humanoid form. Due to a misunderstanding of the species of creature on the cover, that edition was banned in Baldur's Gate. Because of it that design was rare in and of itself but the silver scales embossed in the corners were from a limited edition printing that was only sold at his in person book signings the year it was published.

When he looked back up at Wyll, a memory filled his head of a much younger Wyll defending his honor from a "fan" that was getting a bit to bold with their hands.

The "fan" turned out to be a patriar that was supposed to be at a meeting with his father and he had used that information to remind the man that instead of being at the meeting, he was here, harassing the Duke's Son's favorite author.

As a thank you for his help he had given him the book for free and signed it with that message. A genuine wish for the kind hearted boy.

Talon smiled fondly as he spoke. "Well, well, well...the Prince of Baldur's Gate became a hero after all."

"You remember me?"

"How could i not after you so deftly defended my honor." He handed the book back, watching as Wyll gently put it down on a stool next to him. "In fact had you not been 15 at the time, i would have thrown you over my shoulder, con-sensually of course, and given my hero the reward he so selflessly earned." He then stepped back into Wyll's space, gently resting his hands on his hips. "Of course, better late then never." He purred as he gently pulled him flush against his body.

Wyll leaned in close, his eye dark and half lidded, their lips mere scant inches away from each other. "You are making it very difficult for me to remain a gentlemen."

"I know." He smiled as his arms moved from his hips to wrap around his back. "But in all seriousness," He dropped the purr from his voice as he pressed their foreheads together, staying mindful of each others horns. "If ever my teasing and flirtation ever pushes to far, please tell me. I do not wish to make you feel pressured to move faster than your comfortable with."

With a fond sigh, Wyll wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "I know, Talon. And you haven't. Far from it in fact. You have been a light in this dark place. Something tangible and warm to turn to when things get grim." A deep sadness began to leak into his voice as he began to cling to him. "I have not had that for a long time."

Talon wrapped his arms tighter around him as his thick tail wrapped tenderly around their legs, "Then if it is within my power, you shall never have to go without. My knight will want for nothing so long as i remain."

Wyll smiled warmly, "You are starting to sound like Taltharion."

"What do you think Talon is short for?" He grinned.

Wyll raised an eyebrow, "Are you telling me, My Dragon Knight is less of a work of fiction and more based on a true story?"

"Maybe." He smiled teasingly.

A dark and sultry look entered Wyll's eyes that made Talons blood burn and his slit ache, "So is it safe to assume that their is some...anatomical accuracy to the story?"

"I mean...you would have to-ah!" The words died in his throat as Wyll ran his fingers down the back of his neck where his spine ridges would be if he was in full form. The bolt of pleasure from the gentle touch ran straight to his core, forsing him to bury his face in the crook of his neck to keep him from making more telling sounds in the middle of camp.

"Hmm..." Wyll purred, clearly proud of himself. "Seems their is some truth to the tale. I will have to make sure i study it most throughout from now on."

"Quite the scholarly pursuit." He purred as he faced him again. "I will look forward to testing you on what you have learned."

"In the meantime," Wyll closed the gap until there lips were almost touching, "May your Knight have a small portion of that reward you promised?"

"What would my heroic knight wish?"

"To taste your lips again. I find i am quite starved for them."

"Then you shall have them."

Talon kissed him slow, savoring the press of his lips, the taste of his tongue, and the feel of his body in his arms. It was languid, warm and comfortable.

He could hold him and kiss him like this for days had he had the time. Their bodies tangled, snuggled down in his nest, lost in each other not caring how much time had passed.

He wanted that for him.

He wanted to give that too him.

It was the least he deserved.

But for now, he would settle for this.

It was Wyll who pulled away slowly, carefully, as if Talon would take off if he moved to quickly.

He loosened his grip, not enough to let go but enough for Wyll to easily remove himself should he decide too. Like he expected him to.

But instead, Wyll clung to him, shaking, as if the kiss had woken something up in him that scared him half to death.

"Stay with me tonight?" Wyll whispered as if he was afraid to ask lest he be punished.

"In what way?" Talon asked, wanting to make sure their were no miscommunications.

Wyll couldn't seem to find the words, but the Tadpole's did.

An image filled his head of Wyll wrapped in his arms, his wings and tail covering him like the strongest tower shield. He was tired, he was lonely, and so very very afraid. He wanted comfort, safety, and to be the one protected for once.

Talon tightened his grip.

"The darkness of this place has gotten to me." He spoke, the shake still in his voice. "I fear, i may have become too selfish." His breaths stuttered as tears began to rim his good eye, "But I need you and i am tired of pretending i don't."

"Your starting to sound like Sir Gilmore." He joked.

Wyll laughed, a tired broken thing between barely contained sobs.

Talon cupped his cheek in his hand as he placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, "To be honest, Wyll, your not selfish enough in my opinion." He wrapped his wings around them both. "You have lived a life where you were expected to give up everything and ask for nothing in return lest you be 'selfish'. But i intend to fix that." He then tilted Wyll's face up to meet him. "I will stay with you, tonight and for as many nights as you will allow, until you no longer have need of me."

"What if it's every night? What if i never not have need of you?" He asked, the confident mask of the hero having fallen away, leaving a terrified and lonely man exposed behind it.

"Then you will have me. You, Wyll, my Wyll, my valient hero, my Blade of Frontiers, my greatest treasure, will want for nothing. And it will be my honor, my most exquisite privilage and my greatest pleasure to provide whatever your heart desires."

"Then kiss me again, please." He begged, a desperate need in his voice.

"With pleasure."

When their lips connected again Wyll kissed him with the desperation of a man who was starved of any sort of care and affection for far too long. He clung to him like someone who had been told that they didn't deserve to be held but gained the courage to reach for it anyway and finally found someone reaching back. He could feel how he shook with the force of all of his loneliness and touch starvation releasing at once and made sure he gave back just as good as he got.

When he pulled away, Wyll was smiling amidst tears that were long overdue. He nuzzled into his cheek as best he could as he calmed his breathing and racing heart. He looked lighter, happier and it was all Talon cared about.

"I don't deserve you." He whispered, exhaustion starting to creep into his voice.

"Not your call, Wyll." He chuckled as he pressed another kiss to his forehead.

"I suppose not." He sighed, his eyes starting to droop shut. "I love you, so much. I...can't seem to find the words."

He chuckled again as Wyll's head fell onto his shoulder. "Knowing you, you'll find them eventually. But until then," He lifted up his head by his chin, seeing the man's eyes already half closed and glazed. "I love you too."

Wyll smiled sleepily.

"Now let's get you to bed, yeah?"

"Yes. I...seem to have exhausted myself with that emotional display."

"They tend to do that. Let me carry you so you don't fall down."

Wyll lost his balance for a moment, causing Talon to catch him. "Good plan."

Talon then scooped up his crashing knight and carried him into his tent.

[the-purple-shirted-tickler]

First Session megapost!

As requested, I’ll go into more detail!  Not only did I finally get to have my first tickling session, but I had the honor of being part of a group gang tickling none other than @yourlittlettoy !  Earlier in the day at that little gathering, @theswitchfinch and @mikoz6916 had taken their turns getting wrecked and were looking for some revenge, and Cece said she wanted multiple lers so they invited me to join them in destroying her!

She shyly admitted she didn’t want a safeword, so we agreed that when she was desperate enough to say “tickle” instead of “t-word” we’d take that as a safeword!

We started with her in spread eagle cuffs on a bed, mostly upperbody but all over really.  I’m more of a feet guy personally, but in this first session I was pleasantly surprised just how fun tickling Cece’s upperbody was!

Sometimes it was hard to tell who was getting which reactions with the absolute chaos of three lers overwhelming poor Cece, but on occasion I’d notice the other two had stopped to enjoy the show and what I was doing really was driving her nuts by itself!  You know that incredulous reaction lers have where they’re surprised just how ticklish a lee is?  Yeah, that’s real. (At least this time)

Cece wasn’t blindfolded, but half the time she might as well have been from squeezing her eyes shut and her hair getting increasingly messy from all of her thrashing.  However, I did treasure the moments where we’d slow down and she’d plead with her eyes for things not to get worse.

If you’ve followed Cece’s tumblr for more than five minutes you’ll know most of her reactions: loud laughter, “pleeeeaaaaase!”, “stahahahahahap!”, and the like.  There were plenty of those, and everyone in the other rooms at the gathering surely got to hear it live from where they were, but we discovered a new one too!  Eventually certain reactions included her giving this lower groan as if to say “UGH this is so embarrassing how flustered and ticklish I am right now” so of course we lers were happy to mimic and tease her for that as well!  Still not sure exactly what was prompting that reaction, so I suppose we’ll have to do more science later

Any tag readers on her page will know that Cece claims to be an escape artist.  That’s partially true.  She could occasionally get her arms free from the wrist restrains, but she was no match for the fact that at least one of the three lers would be more than happy to pin down her escaped limbs while the others continued to tickle the sensitive spots that couldn’t quite escape

Speaking of sensitive spots, totally don’t read the classified information in the following strikethrough but I noticed her upper inner thighs, neck, underarms, and soles got some great screams out of her

When she got to the point where she was begging and saying she’d “do anything” to stop her current predicament, I curled the monkey’s paw and had her agree to move over to the bondage table/stocks and have that be a breather for her as we applied the new bondage.

A previous session that day had broken the latch on Clay’s stocks, but the new shin straps on that setup were the MVP keeping her feet in place.  The toeties weren’t the greatest but I suspect Cece was a good sport playing along like her toes really were stuck there for a while because she loves it

I’m told one of the other lers was at her head for the table portion whispering teases into her ears to fluster her even more, but you’d have to ask Cece what was said!  I’m sure she’d love to tell you and won’t at all be blushing and flustered, right?

I went to grab the baby oil, at first originally planning to go straight to her feet with it, but then the other two suggested I should come put it on her underarms while they had them nice and vulnerable!  “Well, don’t mind if I do!” was went through my head.  And don’t worry, I was sure to make plenty of eye contact as I spread it, and Cece being the excited masochist she is was all to happy to reciprocate

I did wind up returning to her feet with the oil and got a good amount of finger tickles on them while the others continued with her upperbody, but I only got about five seconds of hairbrush tickles on one of her feet before the other slipped free from the previously-broken stocks and our session’s timeslot was up!  I think we need more time with that next time, don’t you?

While we were cooling down, Cece was saying "I hate you guys” and she was totally for real and we totally believed it, it’s not like she loves being a ticklish masochist or anything, right?

I did throw in a nice little foot massage during the cooldown, I hope you liked that Cece

Hope you had half as much fun reading all that as I did being part of it!  Thank you so much to everyone there for including me and finally making my dreams come true!

[newwwwusername]

Awesome! I'm glad that you enjoyed it ^^

So for the request I was thinking of a little bit of an AU where, at the party, they have an argument about Sam, but James Storm's off to talk to him anyway and Isaiah doesn't see him for the rest of the night as the regular events of the episode takes place

When Isaiah, Jane and Isabella find him he's more worse for wear then he is in the show (concussion, broken arm, gonna leave it up to you ^^) and when Isaiah helps him up and out of the hole he was thrown in he admits that, with the way the two of them left off, James wasn't sure if Isaiah would even look for him

They reconcile and Isaiah takes James to get checked out at the hospital and something to eat afterwards, and that's where my ranting ends lol 😅

Author's note : Tbh I'm kinda surprised anyone even saw my other Goosebumps (Disney+) fic cause, at the time of typing this out, the fandom still hasn't been canonized on AO3 lol but I am very happy to pioneer the tag for it 💪 Hope this suffices as a request fill. Also keep in mind that, at the time of writing this, I still haven't watched episode 6, so (while I doubt any of this stuff will specifically come up in episode 6 since we're well past it by now) if anything is inaccurate due to context in that episode, just keep that in mind.

"I just don't think you should be lying to him about liking something if you're tryna get closer with him" Isaiah told the shorter boy. James scoffed and rolled his eyes. Isaiah was supposed to be proud of him for finally making a move on Sam, not scolding him for the iffy way he went about it!

"You don't get it" James replied, glad that everyone around them was drunk and not really paying attention. "I really like this guy and I don't wanna mess it up"

"And you think the best way to go about that is to start on a lie?"

"I don't get all the chances you do, Isaiah!" James said, exasperated. Isaiah leaned back, confused.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"It means that you're a conventionally attractive straight dude" James went on. "You have the entire pond of fish to pick from. I'm limited to about five dudes. Honestly it's a miracle I even like one of them"

"Look, all I'm saying is I think that-"

"I don't need your advice, Isaiah" James cut him off, annoyed. He stood up and began to walk away. "I got this. Just leave me be"

----------

James really wasn't doing well.

For one, his stomach hurt (a mixture of hunger pains and the pain that naturally comes along with eating/drinking dirt water for sustenance) really bad. His left arm had also been broken at one point by one of his duplicates, and his focus was just on not dying in that mine, though that seemed hopeless.

Isaiah wouldn't want to come look for him, not after the fight they had last time they spoke, and no one else was as close to him as Isaiah, so they wouldn't want to waste their time looking for him, if they even realized that something was wrong to begin with (it didn't take a genius to figure out that he probably had some duplicates taking his place in the real world).

Then, Isaiah did arrive and promptly smacked him in the head with a rock.

James saw stars for a moment and was sure that he had a concussion or something, but that was hardly his focus at the time. No, his main focus was that Isaiah was there. Isaiah found him. He'd be okay.

----------

After all the duplicates were killed, James was helped out of the mine and back into town.

Margot and Isabella seemed to get the hint that James wanted to talk to Isaiah one-on-one, so they walked a little bit ahead to give the two of them space, which James was quietly grateful for.

"I didn't think you would look for me" James admitted, his speech slightly slurred (something which tipped Isaiah off to the fact that the boy probably had a concussion).

"Why wouldn't I look for you?"

"Hm?"

"Why wouldn't I look for you?" Isaiah repeated.

"We got in a fight" James shrugged. Isaiah felt his heart break. Sure, that argument hadn't been fun, but something like that would never prevent him from looking for the other boy should he go missing.

"James, I care about you so much" Isaiah told him. "A little fight isn't gonna change that. Friends fight, it happens. You matter to me more than that"

"Oh"

"Now, let's get some food in your stomach, and then we're taking you to a hospital" Isaiah said, patting his friend lightly on the back. "I think you have a concussion, and also your arm is definitely broken"

"Yeah, you're probably right" James chuckled. "We can be broken arm buddies!"

"Sure, bud"

[singswan-springswan]

So, I just rewatched The Rookie season 3 finale, and now I feel the need to bother you about Chenford, so: top 5-10 moments Chenford moments so far?

asdfghjkl; um I don't have them in order but let me scrounge up a few

still a solid "thank you" "for what? doing my job?" because it outlines both of their characters and the way they fit together so cleanly in like,,, neon orange highlighter. Tim genuinely cares for Lucy and it's his job to help her so that's what he's going to do, and you'd better believe that he'll pour every drop of softness into the act because it's what she needs at the moment. Lucy on the other hand is allowing herself to open up to him and letting go of her hardened self-preservation instincts. she's accepted that she has no control and is trusting Tim to guide her through it. The moment was so so gentle and I really loved that

paintball. it's over anakin, they have the high ground! also a bit of a shock because what??? they're hanging out off the clock????? huh???????? this was nowhere near prospective at that point but it was the best most brilliant delightful surprise. They really deserved that moment to let loose in an exciting but low risk environment and just have fun for kriff's sake. the fact that they went and did it together was so unexpected in all the best ways

um you know... post barrel hug. We'd never seen Lucy that vulnerable until that scene. Sure, she'd been scared or nervous in past episodes but this... this was pure childlike terror and sadness; you can see it in the way she cries and curls her hands close. BUT we only get a brief glimpse of that raw emotion because immediately Tim has her bundled up in his arms and he's holding her so perfectly and auuughghhh ����🤌 You can see the relief in the way his face pales and it's just. mwah. wonderful. so human and broken but it feels so right that it's him, it's them together, and he's got her now she's SAFE. it's going to be okay. i feel like this scene solidified more than anything that they were partners, and while I'll never get over TV CPR, i'll always love it for that.

When Tim pulled her over on her first undercover op. that was hilarious. on so many levels. first of all she leads with "oh flirting! let's flirt! weeee!" despite having like. never flirted on the show before. maybe she's just playing the part? BUT WAIT. THERE'S MORE. Tim is just🧍‍♂️hello? then Lucy starts talking and you can see the wheels turning in his head. "wait is she trying to flirt?" while she's being really kriffing slick she is definitely not flirting i dunno man it's really not coming off right and he's. guys it's so funny. he's trying to play along but he can't tell if he'd rather do that or bust out laughing, but then also she's trying to sneak in some intel and hang on he might need to write that down. amazing. beautiful and awkward and so so dumb I love it

Lucy's feelings fake-out. *wheeze* man she really got me at first. ngl I paused a few times because I needed a break or two from the second-hand embarrassment. Sheesh Lucy I knew you were sentimental but this is a little over the top. AND POOR TIM. Mans was floundering oh my. you can see the panic in his eyes. wonderful acting on Eric's part. the emotion is so blunt and obvious you cannot possibly mistake the fact that he's have a Tim.exe has stopped working moment. LOOK AT HIM. I bet if you pushed his chest he'd make a squeaky toy noise. And then Lucy starts cackling laughing and the whole scene gets five times better in the span of two seconds amazing. bless. This scene was actually special to me because I realized like. woah. actually he does love her. and he realizes too, and I think that's part of why he's panicking so much. As funny or cringey as the scene may be it really is artful because of the way it redefines their relationship. it's the last day of him being her boss, and we've established both that Tim has many kinds of feelings for her while Lucy has just staked her claim on sharing none of them. wow. how do you put a piece of writing like that together? that's some serious skill holy kriff. mad respect for that.

[bluenpinkcastle]

20240108: the History of LEGO Castle Day 008. 6010-1 Supply Wagon (1984, 33 pieces, 23 different pieces) Supply Wagon was designed by Daniel August Krentz and was the first small set from the LEGOLAND Castle System theme. If you want to know more about the designer, Daniel August Krentz, BrickSet did a really nice tribute and has a full list of everything he designed. The Supply Wagon introduced the first "civilian" into the Castle System theme, listed as a peasant, and also saw the first playable molded animal in the form of a white horse. The horse can fit a 1x2 saddle or a combination of 1x2 plates and a tile or a 1x2 brick, which allows the horse to not have a gaping hole in the back when not being ridden. The horse can move its head up or down, to give the horse the ability to graze or hold its head high while pulling a wagon. This set also introduced the hinged bridle for the horse, giving the ability to build a cart or wagon that can travel up hills or rotate from side to side, though the main wagon build for this set does not allow for the rotational aspect. This set also introduced brown into the Castle System with 33mm wagon wheels, a spear, and a brown hood for the light gray minifigure torso, as well as dark gray for the sword and the round shield. In addition to this set, the light gray torso with blue arms, a v-neck, and a belt with a pouch was found in five other sets from 1985-1989 (6055-1 Prisoner Convoy, 6103-1 Castle Mini Figures, 1584-1 / 6060-1 Knight's Challenge, and 1974-3 Smuggler's Hayride). The back of the box builds continue to show doing the most with a limited amount of bricks, as you could use the pieces in this box to build a chariot-style wagon, a plow, or even weigh down the horse and make it carry all the supplies while the "peasant" patrols. I do very much like the silhouette picture, though, as it feels like a story just waiting to be told. Honestly, I miss these kind of sets, which were just a minifigure and a small handful of parts in a very small box for under $5. I think this one actually retailed around $1.99 or even $2.99 in the United States when it came out in 1984. BrickLink, BrickSet, and Rebrickable all list the Supply Wagon with the Lion Knights sub-theme under LEGOLAND Systems Castle but this set seems completely neutral to me. In fact, the only time this torso shows up seems to be when the Lion Knights need someone to arrest. This is probably also the best armed supply wagon I've ever seen, sporting a halberd, spear, short sword, hammer, and a round shield with no print or stickers to show affiliation. The 2x3 double convex slope gives the appearance of a treasure chest at the back of the wagon, but I think a real treasure chest would have been more fun. Though, as the "peasant" doesn't have any colored flags on the wagon, it would be difficult to assess exactly whose treasure the "peasant" transported :) Of note, this set, just like many of this era, contain the 1x1 plate with a thin side vertical clip. I can't tell you how many of these clips I've broken over the years so if you're building this set with era-authentic parts, you might want to be very gentle with those clips. And also the side clips on the saddles :) Toysperiod has a free download of the instructions. Just over two years ago, I actually wrote a little bit of fanfiction using my LEGO as inspiration. Here is a link to my original post on LEGO 6010 Supply Wagon.

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals - Chapter 38

I

Five eleven-year-old boys grabbed Alfred when he went into the garden to play with insects. They dragged him to a secluded corner where they beat him on his legs, arms, torso and head. The target fell to the ground, gasping for breath from the blows. The five children prepared to deliver the coup de grâce, but a scream interrupted them. Mrs. Collins, the housemaster's wife.

The five children fled in terror. Mrs. Collins rushed to the aid of the badly wounded victim. Lying on the floor like a trampled rag, Alfred Ashford coughed up blood. His hair dishevelled, his face covered in bruises, his left eye closed, his mouth bloody, his jacket torn and his shirt unbuttoned. One of his last milk teeth was missing and his trousers were stained with blood from open wounds in his knees.

“Cof, cof.” Alfred writhed in pain.

“Help! Help!” Mrs. Collins screamed for aid.

II

The old nun, who was acting as nurse, removed the bandage from his forehead and wiped the wound. She applied a new bandage. The unconscious patient was not moving. At her side, Dr Ward switched off the torch the nun needed to see the wounds. The nurse picked up the bloody pieces and left the room. Dr Holmes, the school doctor, estimated that it would be a few weeks before the boy could return to school, even though there were no broken bones or torn muscles. The beating had been brutal. When the nun's work was done, Ward telephoned Ashford Hall.

After introducing himself to the butler, the widow Elizabeth Ashford-Nassau answered his call. Ward calmly informed her of what had happened and of her grandson's condition. After a long silence, Lady Ashford asked him to think about what had caused the incident. From memory, Ward reconstructed the chain of events that had led to the fatal outcome.

Alfred was not a popular pupil among his peers. Intellectually gifted, his exceptionality meant that he excelled in all his chosen subjects and extra-curricular activities, with the exception of sport, where he did not usually put in much effort. Consideration had been given to moving him up a year so that he would start secondary school at the age of eleven. This last fact was leaked to the student body by an unknown informant. The news of his second promotion aroused the frustration of some seniors. One watch told him that a senior had begun to hate Alfred because he saw him as an arrogant know-it-all who pretended to be clever in order to curry favour with the teachers and thus effortlessly enjoy the privileges accorded to seniors by virtue of their age and record. This prejudice spread like an axiom among the other seniors. Rumours reached the headmaster's ears that Alfred had allowed himself to be touched by the music teacher, or that Alfred had cheated in his exams, or that Alfred had received preferential treatment from the teachers. The rumours circulated unchecked and Alfred did nothing to put out the fire. On the contrary, his reticence and infrequent socialising fuelled them.

Alfred did not speak to anyone unless he had to, while with Ward he showed his extrovert character and ability as a good conversationalist. His treatment of boys, especially those from the lower classes, ranged from petty indifference to false sympathy. He trusted no one but Ward and Cornwall. But it was his experience as a fag that was the worst. Alfred hated being a fag and he hated taking orders. And Alfred was a child who looked for any opportunity to vent his anger in a tangible way to draw attention to what he disliked. He injured a classmate playing football in the first week of school, threw a boy down the stairs when he made fun of him for being Scottish, spilled a kettle of boiling water on another because he wouldn't make tea for his watch, and finally told a policeman that a group of five older children had stolen a bag of knick-knacks. It was these five children, whipped as a result, who had gathered to beat up Alfred in the garden. Ward suspected that Alfred's unpopularity, coupled with his lousy company, had prompted the five seniors' brutal decision. Lady Ashford asked Ward for Alfred's opinion on the meaning of his actions. The headmaster suggested that her grandson was spiteful and vindictive. Finally, Lady Ashford was frank: Alfred must take responsibility for his actions in order to forge a character worthy of his future.

III

The five seniors were permanently expelled. When Alfred returned to school thirteen days later, he knew that his time as a fag had come to an end. As he left the dormitory, he ignored the call of his clock, but the clock said nothing. His superficial wounds looked like battle scars because he had been beaten from behind and between five. The other two dorm mates stared at him curiously at his act of disobedience, but neither pointed it out nor complained.

The mood in the corridors was similar. They gave him furtive glances and murmured as he passed. Alfred never stopped to find out what they were whispering about. He walked erect, straight ahead, without turning his head to show that he was not like them. He was no coward, no fool, no half-wit. He was different.

IV

Alexia forced a smile. The photographer fired. The president of Harvard University posed to her right. The photographer fired a second time. The flash blinded her as if it had burned her retinas.

“Nice. I think the framing is right. I'll get the developed photos to you next week.”

The president turned away from Alexia as Alexander approached. The headmaster and his father shook hands.

“A fabulous term.” The president congratulated them. “Dinner is tonight at eight o'clock.” He turned to Alexia. “Such an extraordinary achievement deserves to be celebrated in style. At least the first time,” he joked.

“We will be there,” Alexander confirmed.

“Right.”

The president patted Alexander on the shoulder to say goodbye. Accompanied by the photographer, the two left the foyer. Father and daughter were left alone in the large, baroque room. The rector had insisted on having a photograph taken with Alexia to mark the end of her first year at university and as the top student in her class. Although she was still two years away from wearing her cap and gown, everyone assumed that Alexia would graduate as valedictorian.

The professors were amazed at her devilish pace of learning, which sometimes exceeded the knowledge of the specialists. She didn't interact with the other pupils, but she was aware that she seemed to them an oddity. She could sense it in their condescending comments, their forced smiles and their disbelief. It was like living on the edge of two worlds: she was a child, but she was not. She was too young to be considered an adult, but at the same time she had the intellectual maturity of a woman in her forties. She imitated the behaviour of the adults around her in order to be taken seriously, but the same adults underestimated her emotional maturity because she played when she was bored or angry about trivial things. She belonged neither to the group of adults nor to the group of children, and the incidents that occurred as a result of the latter were mixed.

A woman called the police because she thought Alexia was skipping school. Alexander had to call the university president from a phone box to prove her wrong. Once a teacher stopped her from entering the classroom because he thought she was the daughter of a staff member or one of the students. Another time, Alexander, who always accompanied her to school, had to prove that Alexia was in fact his pupil. In the campus gardens, a group of students escorted her to the university gendarmerie because they thought she was lost, when Alexander had simply stepped away to throw away the plastic cup he had been drinking his coffee in. Less colourful was his father's behaviour during a meeting with his Microbiology professor. For some unknown reason, Alexander remained glued to Alexia, in a pose reminiscent of boxing in his home gym or with friends. The Microbiology professor kept his distance in a way that seemed exaggerated, but always with his eyes fixed on Alexia. The experience was uncomfortable and she never saw the professor again. Even after that meeting, Alexander never left Alexia's side, not even to go to the toilet. He would only let her into the professors' private toilets alone, with him waiting at the door, but never into the shared toilets.

It was overwhelming. She tried to distract herself by mentally solving mathematical operations or philosophising about the last thing she had read, but none of it helped in the long run. The only thing left to do was to hold on and wait for her father to protect her from whatever it was he was supposed to protect her from, which she didn't want to find out, lest it feed the sporadic intrusive thoughts that lurked in the depths of her physical vulnerability and emotional loneliness. Alexia tried to take refuge in Alexander, but her father did not seem to understand the extent of her distress. He seemed oblivious to his daughter's conflicted status as a monkey fair for students or a guinea pig for teachers, including an unpleasant psychiatrist who tried to persuade her to take part in a cognitive experiment with a group of strangers. Alexander flatly refused the latter, but the former was impossible to eradicate. On top of that, Alexia had discovered that she really didn't like being around people and didn't like attracting unnecessary attention, not least because she had learned that it only led to repetitive formalities and pointless chatter.

The stress, however, dissolved the anxiety. The stress of studying at such a level was compounded by her own threshold of self-demand and the social pressure to prove her worth. The greater the stress, the greater the hyper-fixation on the task, the greater the intolerance of error and the greater the irritability; and the greater the irritability, the greater the aggressiveness. She once found herself violently pushing her father out of her study when she was engrossed in an essay she had to finish by tomorrow. Alexander was not angry, but tried to talk to her about the reason for the push. Alexia refused to talk any further than necessary because she had to finish the essay. Alexander was not like Alfred; she did not feel comfortable talking to him because of the misunderstanding. So she had no choice but to relax and moderate her temper on her own. The monotony of everyday life and the accelerated passage of time when she was busy helped; but neither one nor the other removed the isolation, only postponed it, with long intervals of horrible accompaniment.

[laughing-with-god]

The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

--

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note:  So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next.  The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life.  Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ.  Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol.  This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments.  Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads​ once again for creating the cover art for this fic.  They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop​! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic.  They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar.  They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while.  I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.  

[ruershrimo]

genshin impact x fem!reader: and yet the waves continue to crash

features ayato

warnings: misogyny, angst, implied suggestive topics (? I’ll put that in the tags for good measure), minor character death

notes: the original name for this was “mm. angst” and then I made it fancy, tiatt ch 5 coming soon but I spent a while getting this done, shout-out to my proofreader who helped me get rid of some of my redundancy and just helped me touch-up on this!!!!

synopsis: (you’ve known him for almost all your life, but as the waves continue to crash, the two of you continue to grow. can the two of you keep these youthful dreams forever?

spoiler: you can’t.)

sequel- coloured goodbyes/farewell to childhood

“…I’m sorry, but due to my status I cannot be with someone who is not of noble descent.”

Oh no. Oh no, your brain repeated, like a broken record. Heat seemed to rush into your body, your blood and your veins as you bite your bottom lip discreetly and your hands clenched your kimono tightly, so tightly your knuckles turned white and you thought the kimono would be crumpled forever. You avoided blinking away the pool of tears in your red-stained eyes as you stared down at the ground in a feeling that wasn’t quite in your cognition.

Was he feeling the same way as well?, you thought during your stroll back home. You had left the sakura tree there without a word, unable to speak anymore and unable to show yourself any less.

Well, it wasn’t like anybody needed to know, anyway.

They would already know, you told yourself.

That kamisato ayato rejected his princess, his closest companion, his “best friend”, his confidante.

“It looks like that licentious woman has finally stopped,” you could hear them say. Dear goodness, is she ok, serves her right for what she did, she looks so pitiful.

You hold your arms up to your shoulders as if to hug yourself (but not for comfort, no) or hide yourself, in shame, in anguish, in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t place your finger on. Something that made you want to grow your brain out of your head and rip your heart out of your chest. You tried to ignore them and pressed your ears into the oblivion between your skull and your raised shoulders. By the time you reached home, you calmed down on the outside. Then, you wanted to tear your hair out from your head.

Ah, but you didn’t.

Instead, you curtly walked to your room in your usual fashion. You cried your eyes out like a teenage girl. Was it all a lie, did I do anything wrong, maybe he actually does like me and he just can’t, that’s so romantic and it’s like a tragic story- shut up, stop being delusional. Were you really crying over someone else, and a boy like that?

What were you even thinking.

Snot and saliva caked the sleeves of your tear-stained kimono and the hiccups flowed out faster and more abruptly than water with the power to form a river or a valley.

Thinking of water made you think of him.

And it hurt so much, when you thought of everything again.

Kamisato ayato was a smart boy. That was your first impression of him. You first stumbled upon him during a festival when the two of you were too young to understand what would happen later.

Under the big sakura tree (the one whose petals had fallen to the floor during the previous spring season), you asked him, “So you’re the kamisato boy, right?”

And he replied, “Yep!” with a grin that made you feel things you yet again did not understand.

“That’s so cool!”

You had strayed away from your parents and he had done so as well. You wondered if you would get in trouble for going off to play with the blue-haired boy you came to know as ayato. It didn’t matter to five-year-old you anyway. Ayato was fun to play with, that you learned after he showed you some tricks he learned about sleight of hand, “Mother taught me this!,” and some facts that he knew, “See that? It’s a cypress! Mother said that people use them for religious rituals because they’re a symbol of prosperity!”. Those are just the things he said when he pointed to the things he was referring to excitedly. You did not understand what “big words” like prosperity and rituals meant, but you listened to him nonetheless. You liked the elation in his voice and how smart he sounded. At five, you didn’t really know what was smart and what was not, but any smart person in your book used to be anyone who was a speaker of magniloquent words. You wondered about how smart his mother might be from how she sounded. To your young and impressionable mind, she could have been a genius.

In your little conversation, you learned things about him, like how his family didn’t usually go to festivals and how this was a rare occurrence or how he has to practice calligraphy (“-which I hate, it’s so boring!”) or how he was going to have a baby sibling soon.

“Now just what are you doing here, young lady-!” a frustrated voice tore through his string of rambles. “Wait, I- kamisato ayato? Ah- greetings, young master of the kamisato clan.”

Fearing your mother’s fiery wrath, you hid behind ayato, the back of his clothes. They felt warm, soft and smooth.

He looked back at you as if to check on your condition, and though you were terrified, you believed there was solace and comfort to be found in his gaze and smile. You felt reassured, and your little heart beat calmly as it filled itself with a warm, affectionate feeling. His presence calmed you. You could have bored into his cerulean eyes for all of a perpetuated eternity and you wouldn’t mind.

This feeling was sweet. Confusing, but sweet. Yes, that was your best way of describing it.

In the end, you got in trouble, but when he had to say goodbye to you he seemed to feel just as distraught as you were before a plump-bellied woman, with the same beautiful blue eyes and hair as his- kissed him on the forehead before a man about a year senior to her asked if she was ready to leave.

Kamisato ayato was a tall boy for his age.

That was your first thought as you saw him again under the sakura tree with the prettiest little petals and strong roots which kept it uprooted by thrusting deeply into the earth.

“How’s ayaka?” you began the conversation like you did so when the two of you were younger.

In reply, the twelve-year-old boy started to go on and on about how hard it was to have a sister.

You could tell that he loved his sister, that much you could tell, from the way he chatted about how cute she was and switched at the speed of light to about how annoying she was when his father tried to give him more lessons.

You felt nervous, or maybe apprehensive- no, worried, when he got to the topic of the training regimen he recently started following due to his father’s wishes. You were worried that due to his training, he wouldn’t come to the big sakura tree so often anymore, your main destination to rendezvous every once in a while. Whenever any of you needed comfort, you would go here and wait for the other.

But you didn’t tell him that. No, not a word about that, when you knew how much the state of his clan meant to him, even if the two of you were only preteens. You looked at the ground, covered in the fallen sakura petals instead and got flustered when he inquired about how you had been doing, provoking him to show a mischievous expression.

“Ayato,” you started innocently. Maybe you were too sleepy, or the starry black sky above you had engulfed you far too much in its magic, for you blurted out, “Do you love me?”

“Hm? Of course I do,” he answered back. “You’re my best friend.”

Your heart leaped in bliss as you laid your arms on the ground in euphoria. He loves you. You giggled as your position shifted to meet him, and not caring about the implications of what was going to occur like young people do, you kissed him on the cheek before rolling back to your former position.

“I love you too.”

The next two years, he didn't visit the sakura tree at all. You could only sit there waiting for him and hoping when he could come back.

In a way, you found it poetically wonderful. If this was a romance book, you thought, I’d be the princess waiting for the prince. You’d giggle whenever you retreated to those little fantasies.

There was nothing good about it, in reality. You learned that the kamisato clan had been struggling due to its reputation being in shambles. Something-something, samurai, something-something, politics, something-something, reputation.

You hated politics with the passion that politicians could only dream of having.

Things also started to change when you got older. (But I don’t grow up. I don’t want to. Not yet.)

Whenever you sauntered around Inazuma City with your mother, it was as if people’s eyes were on you, asking if that was the girl they used to see with kamisato ayato.

That girl, I can understand why she might have seduced him (seduced? I’m only a child, how can I seduce anyone? you thought), eh, she doesn’t look too bad, look at those (I want to tune your voice out, old man. Shut up.), but doesn’t she look like eye candy, I’m pretty sure that’s all just makeup and she’s actually just an ugly person both inside and out (don’t make me cry in public, you pleaded in your mind, am I really all of those things that you say I am? I’m just a child, I don’t know, ayato, please, ayato, please come back to the big sakura tree. Please protect me like you did before.)

You started to ask yourself if you were as pretty as the others and grew envious of others’ smarts. It seemed as if everyone was better than you in some way, that all the other girls around you had the level of individuality and talent that you could never reach. You wanted to be beautiful, to be smart, to be charming. And in the darkest parts of you, you wanted to be that way for ayato. The days without him started to feel blurred and like they were a mix of emotions, from happy, to sad, to jealous, to rotten. You didn’t know what was happening to you, you just wanted it all to stop. You wanted to be happy and to be good enough for you to love yourself again, and for him to come back.

Kamisato ayato was a very handsome boy.

That was what you thought about on the day that you swore it would be your last visit to the sakura tree (you were annoyed with it after doing it for two whole years) in which you caught a glance of a tall silhouette. Edging closer, you were met with beautiful features: a beauty mark, soft blue eyes that reflected the waves of the ocean, a silky, smooth light blue head of hair with some white on it, beautiful, beautiful, long eyelashes that were a replica of what you could see of kamisato kaiyo when you were younger. There was no questioning it. This was ayato, your prince, your closest companion, your “best friend”, your confidante.

You leaped forward before almost strangling him in a tight hug. The now fourteen-year-old young man reciprocated the hug despite being taken aback by it at first.

This time, you noticed his pupils looking slightly dilated and the white of his eyes having more red branches in them than usual. The hand he had on your waist while tenderly embracing you seemed to be trembling.

“Are you alright…?”

“Yes. I…” he started, somewhat anxiously. “I can tell you anything, and you won’t tell anyone else, right?”

“Anything is safe with me, ayato.”

“My parents, they…

They got sick.”

“Oh, are they alright now?” tread carefully, you reminded yourself.

“…

…no. They aren’t,” he hesitantly sighed.

“Oh, ayato…” you try to comfort him by clutching his hand and gazing into his eyes sincerely. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

As if that helped anything. He was suffering. He was in agony. And all you could do was stare at him and faux-reassure him.

To your surprise, he gazed into your eyes before bending down to lay his head on your chest.

“Thank you.”

Kamisato ayato was a man with a very tragic life.

That was what you thought the next time you met him.

It seemed as if he had been running to the big sakura tree, his cheeks adorned with red that was bright enough for you to see in the dim lights of Inazuma nights and his eyes in a frantic state of shock.

“My parents… they…”

His eye bags were greatly conspicuous to you, even from afar. Weak, he looked, as if he could plummet down to the ground and faint at any moment.

When he collapsed, whether due to fatigue or his piercing grief, his heart seemed to open like a river and you swore that this was the first time you had seen his emotions gushing out of him with such uncontrollable power.

He then cried as if he was deliberately trying to lose his voice until his shouting came to a standstill and his voice quivered once more. You reached down to kiss his forehead like you had seen kamisato kaiyo do so before. With the tenderness of his late mother, you attempt to pull him close. Maybe to give him an escape for whatever happened to him- you were just a simple girl in the city and he was everything a simple girl in the city couldn’t reach, what were you thinking- or to console him after it and help him move on- you preferred it most likely being the former, though- the only thing that could add a drop of complex purpose and individuality into your simple and bland self was to be someone else’s and not your own, to be a prince’s bride and not a queen’s advisor, or an explorer, or a scholar, no- that was how it always was in fairytales, right? Like how the poor girl with the slipper got the luxurious ring and how the girl who pricked her finger was saved in the end by a prince with great valor and charm.

He grew quieter. His breath had stabilized. He grabbed your lower arm forcefully, taking you by surprise as if to do something to you, before gaining a better sense of things and immediately pushing it back. He turned away, for a moment’s respite, before you could notice the look in his eyes that very clearly communicated, “Never mind, I’m doing it anyway.”

And he held it tightly but gently before his mouth inched closer to yours-

-before the two of your lips were only a centimeter apart, and his mouth clashed with yours as if you were two starved people being exposed to fruit for the first time. The kiss was sweet and deep, shocking you with momentary icy coldness before enveloping you in comforting warmth. He pulled away from the passionate moment you had before speeding away and-

-you never saw kamisato ayato again for two years. That lucky little man, he’s lucky that you love him so much.

You continued to linger around the big sakura tree after that incident like a ghost and you came back there every day.

You stole the time you shouldn’t have spent on crying and bawling your eyes out, weeping and waiting for your prince, your closest companion, your “best friend”, your confidante. Too many nights than you could have spent on doing better, productive things were spent on hurting because of someone else, and a man no less. The women in your family would be ashamed of you, you thought. The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. If you had gotten any sadder, the men in your family, mainly overprotective and rash at making decisions, would step up and be glad because of your sorrow, because their little girl with her little broken heart was all alone again. Protected. In the same way, if you had gotten any happier, the women in your family would shame you for what they perceived as your shallowness and promiscuousness. Being with them made you sick. The very notion of traditional gender values made you want to double over and throw up.

Kamisato ayato might be smart, but he is a fool. He is stupid. He is awfully smart, yes. But to you, his idiosyncrasies precede him. In your conquest of trying to bring back the two of your childhood memories, when youth was present and innocence was alive, you even tried to go directly to the Kamisato Estate just to see him again, and you were only greeted by ayaka and thoma, with all the values of etiquette deeply woven into ayaka’s speech and mannerisms and all the free-spiritedness of a Mondstadtian citizen. You could understand why ayaka was called the shirasagi himegimi and why thoma was such a good bargainer. Politely, they urged you to leave the estate. At least, that was what you felt they were doing.

“Ah, miss kamisato. May I visit your brother? I’m a friend of his. And, hello, mr thoma.”

“Greetings,” ayaka smiled. She looked just like her mother, the only difference being the shape of her eyes. “I’m sorry, but my brother is busy at the moment.”

“Oh, alright then. Well, can I at least say some things to him if he’s not meeting anyone at the moment? I’ve been a bit worried about him recently.”

Those were lies, you thought. You had been “a bit worried” about him for two terribly long years.

“Oh, well… h-he’s busy,” ayaka stuttered.

“You can write a note to him or join us for tea at the komore teahouse!” thoma suggested.

“Oh, ok. I’ll… write a note, then.”

Thoma reached into his pockets, rummaging through what seemed like infinity to you in a finite space before handing a small piece of scrap paper to you.

Hi ayato, you wrote. Too simple? Maybe it needed to be more formal?

My dearest ayato-

Welp, guess you had to scribble that. You frowned. If only you could add one extra comma and change the whole sentence.

Dear ayato,

You haven’t visited the place where we usually meet in two years. I understand that you are busy, but I hope you can start visiting it soon. I’ll be there most of the time, so I hope we can talk again. I miss you.

Sincerely, your best friend

Was that last “I miss you” too sappy?

“Mr thoma, may I write other notes to him from time to time?” you inquired. You just wanted to communicate with him once, at least to know how he was doing or know if he was still an existing being.

“Sure! Just let me know and I’ll give them to him whenever you’d like.”

The next time you were going to see him came earlier than you thought it would.

You sat down on the verdant grass beneath the tree, looking at the pinky petals and soaking up the nostalgia and sunlight like a flower in summer, reminiscing about the past.

Laying your head down on the soft bed of grass beneath you, you waited for nature to lull you to sleep before you heard the sound of fabric brushing against the tree’s branches. Not expecting a visitor any time soon, you arose from the ground, eager to learn the identity of your safe haven’s intruder.

“Hello.”

And there he is, your prince, with the royal blue eyes, your “best friend”, with his soft smile, your closest companion, with his sky blue hair, your confidante, in his modern, formal white and blue attire.

“Ayato!”

You might have shocked him slightly, but you had no cares in the world for that, wrapping your arms around him in a jocund manner, not caring about the consequences of what you did (as long as kamisato ayato was there with you). Your previous anger at him had been quelled due to his return to you.

You reconnected with him once again, learning about what happened with the clan’s reputation and how he was usually engaged in his work due to having to patch it up.

Kamisato ayato is a very charming man, you thought as he placed a sakura blossom in your hand, his thumb rubbing the center of your palm and his fingers caressing the back of your hand.

“Why did you give me this?” you chuckled, as sweetly as you thought your voice could ever sound.

“As a gift, of sorts. We rarely meet under this tree anymore- which I greatly apologize for, I’ve just been too busy— (I’m going to change this to an em dash ya.) so here’s a sakura blossom to remember the first time we met.” he pauses for a moment’s respite before continuing, “And also because you are as beautiful as this sakura blossom right here.”

He pressed a sweet peck to the back of your hand before promptly transfixing his gaze to meet yours and calmly winking. That was the push that was enough to instantly trigger an increase of your heartbeats per minute.

The two of you were on one of your occasional outings together after the two of you reunited as young adults.

A special walk in Inazuma City together (with you trying your best to avoid his whims of going to secret places to do daring things and ignoring the gasps and gossiping of those around you), a stroll in Chinju Forest (with you resting your head on his shoulder and resisting to kiss him because how can the sight of someone next to the flowers of Chinju Forest look so beautiful?), a picnic under the big sakura tree…

You brushed his rare moments of hesitance whenever you made a move on him to the side (were you even supposed to be able to do so when he was this much out of your league?). Surely, he was just taken aback due to your forward-ness, right? Or maybe it was due to his heavy workload? (Whatever. You could always ask him by sending him a note.)

Eventually, as it always happened with him, he started to be more occupied with his work again and you were left with the same situation as you were in during the two prior years.

Dear ayato,

Can we speak under that place that only we visit? I wish to know about some things, that’s all. Just visit me there when you can, please.

Sincerely, your best friend

“Ah, about that last letter I read, what did you wish to tell me?”

“I just wanted to ask why you’ve started to cancel more of our outings together- I mean, I know being busy comes with the “package” of you having so many expectations and so much work to do, but sometimes I think that you end up thinking of work too much while we’re out sometimes, too,” you voiced.

“Well, work has been busy, but I’ll try to make time for you- for us- as soon as possible.”

The manner in which he answered you didn’t seem uneasy or nervous, but as if he had memorized lines from a script of lies, as if his speech was controlled.

“Ayato,” you sighed. “Are you lying to me?”

For that moment, it seemed as if time had stopped and that moment could have been stretched for eternity. The wind blew and the nature around you continued its symphony of slothlike sounds. The noises of animals and bugs carried themselves through the air as a soft breeze flew by, blowing the sakura blossoms of its beloved, archaic tree, before the blossoms obscured your vision and graced ayato’s features. This was the same tree that held so many memories, the place where you could get away from the ogled and insulted you in the same breath and where he could get away from his work, the place that only the two of you knew.

Kamisato ayato was ethereal. Heavenly, even.

Once the petals fell to the ground, he appeared somewhat crestfallen to you.

“…I am.”

“Then tell me the truth,” you entwined your fingers with his, your other hand lovingly holding his wrist as if you think you were a princess who deserved him. “I can take whatever you’ll tell me.”

Hopefully.

He opened his mouth, and for a moment’s hesitation, thoughts raced through your mind at the speed of unadulterated light. Was he going to say what you thought he was going to say?

“But I can’t. I don’t want you to hear it. It would hurt you…so, so much,” he whispered under his breath.

“…I’d rather know the truth than keep lying to myself. It’s alright, you can tell me. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him.

You weren’t going to be fine, but you wouldn’t crack completely so easily in front of him for his sake.

“I love you, ayato,” you grinned as if this wasn’t what could have been your last meeting in your lives. You knew he was going to say it, but you succumbed to the false dreams of pure puerility that you possessed.

“…I’m sorry,” he murmured in a low tone. “But due to my status I cannot be with someone who is not of noble descent.”

And so it happened, your prediction came true. He would never be yours.

A few days after that incident, you returned to the sakura tree, perhaps to say goodbye to the past or to say hello to the future.

Rather briskly, you rummaged through your portmanteau and tore out a piece of paper before leaving it on the petals of the sakura tree with a bittersweet, mellow visage.

Spring had just passed. Yet the waves were crashing on as they always had been.

Dear ayato,

I have left this note here instead of giving it to thoma. I want you to be the one to read it whenever you are ready, and I don’t want anyone else to know the contents of this paper. After all, this is the place that only we know.

A few days ago, about what you said, although it made me cry, I think I’ve been pleasantly invigorated after all that ugly sobbing and misery. I realized that for almost all of my life, it has been filled with you, and though it isn’t a bad thing, I think it’s time that I grow up like you did before me. My life won’t revolve around you as much anymore. I don’t think I should need my life to be like that now. I promise, I’ll grow up, and I won’t do it for anyone else but myself. I don’t need beauteous wiles or astute sagacity. I don’t need to care about those who stare at me lecherously or those who hate my appearance despite not knowing me at all. I just need to live and no longer be the girl who is a child stuck in an adult. I think that I don’t have to associate growing up with the loss of youth and freedom, and I can live to my heart’s content. I’ll travel around the world and learn about myself, and I think that I should let you have the time to do that too.

I don’t think we can ever be together, but I will never forget you and how much you have carved me into who I am now. For the rest of my life, I will never tell others why I love the spring season or why I keep so many notebooks. All I need to do next is follow the path laid before me, hitherto unbeknownst to me, and I will let the rest of Teyvat make its mark on my being as well.

Thank you for everything, kamisato ayato. I love you and I will never forget you.

Sincerely, your best friend.

As you were just about to board your ship in Ritou, where the sea breeze flooded your senses, you could hear someone’s footsteps behind you.

“Wait!” cried ayato desperately, rushing toward your direction.

“Goodbye, ayato,” you beamed. You were already satisfied with what you were going to do now, though you pondered on how he was able to rush to Ritou so easily for a brief second. “Thank you for everything.”

Time paused like it did so before you decided to change your life.

He panted, before his desperate gaze shifted to an affectionate one.

“Goodbye,” he laughed, as if you two would see each other again soon. “I wish you well.”

“And I, you, ayato!”

Fully content, you walked onto the ship with your traveling bag, waving goodbye to your prince,

your best friend,

your closest companion,

your confidante.

( ^_^ bittersweet ending.)

[earlgreydream]

i hate you.

| 1940s!bucky x reader | fluff | smut |

requested. greaser!bucky au. enemies(?) to lovers. @fitzfiles​ and i are shamelessly indulgent

bucky made up his mind, he was going to win you over. 

Bucky Barnes was the asshole across the street with the stupid loud motorcycle and white tees and leather jackets. You hated him. 

“Hey, doll.” 

You heard it every day when you came walking home from school, books in hand. And every day, it irritated you. You would scowl at Bucky, and he would flash his stupid smirk and wink at you. 

You’d see him shirtless at night, smoking out on his porch. Once, he caught you staring out the window, and he’d teased you about it the next day on your way off to school. 

“Checking me out last night, doll?”

“Don’t call me that. It’s Y/N. And no I wasn’t checking you out. I was watching you die slowly of lung cancer,” you snarked, making him throw his head back with laughter. 

“If smoking doesn’t kill you, I will,” you muttered before going inside of your house.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” You screamed, throwing your front door open. You were wrapped in a blanket over your thin pajamas, and you were infuriated.

“What?” He called with a stupid amused look on his face.

“It’s five in the fucking morning! Stop revving the engine on your motorcycle! You’re waking up the whole neighbourhood!” 

“You’re the one screaming.”

“I hate you,” you seethed. 

Without breaking eye contact, he revved the engine again. You were so irritated you could cry, and you resolved yourself to go back inside, refusing to let Bucky get the satisfaction of seeing your reaction to his antagonizing. 

This had gone on for months. You were able to ignore him most of the time, but he was persistent. Your friends joked that he was in love with you, but you couldn’t imagine it. Bucky was delighted to get you worked up, and he was proud of himself for it.

“You’ve all lost your bloody minds,” you assured your friends, dragging them inside as Bucky whistled at you from across the street.

“He’s just my annoying neighbor.”

Bucky seemed to be always washing his yellow car in his driveway. You’d come home and see him shirtless, in low-rise jeans that showed off v-lines, bent over the hood of his soapy car. If it wasn’t the car, it was his motorcycle. He always winked at you or blew you a kiss, making you shake your head or roll your eyes.

 You hated to see him washing his car, because it made it that much more difficult to deny how incredibly gorgeous he was. 

Bucky delighted in getting you worked up. He loved to see your cheeks flush pink and the way your nose scrunched up at his banter. He had a crush on you, ever since he moved in, and he always loved your attention, even if he got it by antagonizing you.

Bucky did intend to get in your good favor, but you had made up your mind that you didn’t like him. Bucky was determined, and loved a challenge.

Bucky decided his opportunity to win you over was when it was pouring down rain. The morning had started out sunny when you’d walked to school, but the weather had turned rapidly mid-morning. 

He got in his yellow car, and drove to the college in town, parking outside and going into the lobby with an umbrella. He leaned against a railing, waiting for you to get out of your class, to give you a lift and keep you from getting soaked and ruining your books.

As soon as it started to rain, you’d fretted about getting home. You didn’t have any friends that drove, and you had been debating whether to wait out the rain or just brave it and get wet.

You definitely didn’t expect to see your neighbour leaning against the railing in the front lobby. 

“Hey, doll.” He grinned, standing when you approached him. He had ignored the stares of the other girls, everything else disappearing when he saw you. 

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” you sighed, blushing at the stares you got, everyone hearing his term of endearment for you. 

“I brought my car, I didn’t want you to ruin your books and get wet by walking home in the rain,” he answered honestly, surprising you.

“You drove here to pick me up?”

Bucky nodded, and you fought off a small smile. You didn’t like him, and you were annoyed, but the gesture was thoughtful, and much appreciated. You rationalized the soft feelings by claiming it was basic decency, and it was necessary that you had to take him up on his offer.

“Okay.” 

You took his arm and he opened his umbrella, keeping you dry as he helped you into the passenger seat of his yellow car. You set your books on the dash, leaning back against the leather seat. As he drove, the radio played smooth jazz, surprising you a bit, as Bucky didn’t seem like the jazz type.

“Bucky, you’ve missed the turn.” You said, and he only smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. Your heart rate increased as he drove into the city and you whipped your head to look at him.

“Where are you taking me? I thought you were taking me home!”

“I am taking you home, eventually,” Bucky grinned, and you could’ve screamed.

“You can’t just abduct me! Where are we going?! I will throw myself from your moving car!” You snapped, panicking. 

“I’m not abducting you! I’m taking you to have some fun, because all you do is study and it’s made you wound tight!”

“You’re kidding me. I’ve got to write a paper!” You cried, and Bucky just laughed, shaking his head.

“Just relax, Y/N.” 

You gave him a scathing look, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You’re insufferable.”

“Most say charming.”

You followed Bucky into a roller rink, rolling your eyes but secretly excited about rollerskating. You slipped your feet into white skates, thankful today you had chosen to wear pants. 

You stepped onto the rink with Bucky right behind you. It had been a while since you skated, and you were a bit unsteady on your feet. You pushed forward, putting your arms out for balance as you tried to get used to the feeling of the wheels under your feet.

“Careful!” Bucky exclaimed when you nearly fell, catching your waist to steady you. You gasped, your hands going to his arms for balance. A blush spread across your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the gentle, caring way he touched you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, pushing off his arms and skating smoothly around. He fell in rhythm beside you, skating to the music. 

He tried to show off by skating backwards, but lost his balance and fell, making you shriek. You moved toward him quickly, and held out your hands to help him up.

“Are you alright?” You asked, and he nodded, biting back a smile.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.” 

You decided you’d had enough then, and the two of you resorted to eating pizza at a parlor down the street, Bucky insisting on you needing dinner before you went home. You shivered as you stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant, coming out of the warm summer evening. Bucky slipped his black leather jacket from his arms and put it on you when he noticed. You whispered a soft thank-you, pulling it tightly around your smaller body. It smelled faintly of smoke and castile soap, like him. 

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight of you wearing his clothes, his heart stirring as you hugged it around you.  

“Feel better?” Bucky asked as you bit into a slice of pizza.

“I’m not going to let you take credit for loosening me up.” 

“Oh, I haven’t even tried to loosen you up yet.” He joked, making you choke on your water. You glared at him for the suggestive comment, and he smirked. 

You blushed at the insinuation, images of intimacy with Bucky flashing through your mind. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you shifted under his gaze.

“Smartass. You still abducted me.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

You took another bite of your pizza, finally breaking the intense eye contact. 

Even though you had enjoyed the night with Bucky in the city, and you’d gone home full of butterflies, he had quickly managed to get back on your nerves. 

Bucky’s friends came over to party, and they were loud, obnoxious, and kept you (and half the neighbourhood) up with their partying the night before you had a presentation at college. You were infuriated when you complained to Bucky, and he told you that you should’ve just come to party with them, since you were up anyways. 

Then there was the fact that Bucky kept revving the engine of his damned motorcycle. You hated it, especially early in the morning when you were trying to peacefully trying to pour a cup of coffee. 

You couldn’t stand him, and he just made you mad. 

You hated his motorcycle, and you hated his arrogance. You hated how everyone dropped to their knees at his every whim. You hated when you’d see him painting his fence or working on his car outside, and he’d pull his shirt off when he saw you looking. You hated that Bucky smoked. 

Mostly, you hated how everything Bucky did gave you butterflies. 

Bucky adored the way your brow knit together when you glared at him. He adored the blush of your cheeks and the way you huffed in annoyance. He loved to see your eyes glitter with emotion whenever he got under your skin. He adored the way your eyes lingered on him whenever he was shirtless in the yard.

Bucky adored you.

The night was particularly warm. The summer heat had everyone on edge, and you and Bucky were no exception. The moon was the only light in the starless sky, a dark stillness settling over your neighbourhood. It was incredibly late, but you couldn’t sleep like everyone else. You had been enjoying the quiet loneliness of the night when Bucky had gone outside to the sidewalk. He was shirtless as he lit a cigarette, grinning at you. 

“Hey, doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, feeling like a broken record.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he blew smoke into the air, and you stood up off your porch swing. You walked across your small lawn quickly, until you were standing in the street. 

“You shouldn’t smoke, it will kill you,” you quipped, making him roll his eyes.

“Don’t stand in the street, a car can come and kill you.” Bucky said back, though there was a tone of seriousness to his voice.

“It’s the middle of the night, no one is going to-”

Bucky suddenly grabbed you and yanked you toward him, making you shriek. Less than half a second later, a car without its headlights on came flying down the street. 

Your eyes were wide with fright, unable to process that Bucky had just pulled you from in front of a car. His eyes blazed with emotion, and you tried to shove off of him. 

“You almost fucking died! I told you not to stand in the damned street!” Bucky snapped at you, raising his voice. 

“Don’t yell at me! I wouldn’t have been in the street if you weren’t such an asshole!” you shouted back, your eyes and throat burning, making your entire body tremble. 

“Why are you so fucking difficult?!” Bucky’s fear at seeing you almost get hit by a car in front of him fueled his emotion, and he didn’t mean to yell at you, but the feelings were boiling over. 

“Because you make me so mad, and because I love you, you idiot!” You screamed before you could stop yourself. When you said the words out loud, you realized you meant them, more than you meant any of the anger. 

There was a deafening silence, and it was too late to take it back.

“Bucky, I-” you stammered, but he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, pulling you into him. 

Passion lit like a fire between you, and you reached up and held his face, kissing him back with force. You parted your lips and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, moving in sync with you, swallowing your small noises. He cradled your jaw as his mouth moved with yours, drawing you even closer.

The heat practically suffocated you, and you were completely lost in Bucky. He tasted like smoke and coffee, and his body was pressed against your own, overwhelming you with need. His hands slid down to squeeze your ass, and you rolled your hips against his as you moaned. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered when the two of you finally broke for air. He wasted no time before mouthing along your jaw, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. 

Your hands ran down his toned chest, before hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging his hips closer against yours, wanting to feel him hardening against you. The heat between your legs was spreading, and you were aching for him. 

Bucky groaned against your neck as you ground against him, and he backed you up against his car, needing to ground the two of you. He could hear your small, breathy pants by his ear and you were practically shaking with need. 

“Bucky, please touch me,” you begged, months of sexual frustration pouring out all at once. Who was he to deny you? He kissed you deeply, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing him against your front. 

Your breath hitched when he slipped his hand into your waistband, cupping your sex. You spread your legs a bit, and he slipped his fingers through your folds, tracing the shape of you. 

He hardened at the sound of your soft moans and the feeling of you twitching against his fingertips. Neither of you cared that you were outside, on display for anyone who woke up in the night. 

He found your clit, stroking it softly while you made out, swallowing all of your sexy noises. You were overwhelmed by what he could do with just his fingers, and you somehow needed him closer, even though your bodies were pressed against each other. Your body was buzzing with pleasure from his small touches alone, and you were having the same effect on him. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathed, lightly biting down on his shoulder to silence yourself as he eased a finger inside of you. He pumped slowly, and you took him in easily with how turned on you were. 

“I know, doll, but I gotta warm you up first so I don’t hurt you.” He kissed your jaw, and a short laugh escaped you. 

“Cheeky,” you hummed, palming over his crotch, making him push two fingers into you all at once. The air caught in your throat, but you kept feeling him up as he curled his fingers forward into your g-spot. 

The way you were moaning his name was driving him wild, and he couldn’t draw out the foreplay anymore. You pulled your shirt over your head, thankful you had forgone a bra. Your shirt was discarded in the driveway, and Bucky tugged your bottoms down easily before lifting your nude body up onto the hood of his car. You leaned forward, undoing the button on his jeans and helping him out of them, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was. 

Bucky grinned at you, able to read your mind, your thoughts evident in your startled expression. His ego definitely didn’t need the boost, and you blushed when you realized he was grinning at your observation. 

Your tongue nervously darted out over your lips, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lowered you to lay down on the cool metal, making you shudder when it came into contact with your hot skin. 

You exhaled softly as his hands skimmed down your body in an attempt to ease your nerves. He leaned down and kissed you gently, bending your legs up to your chest. 

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll,” Bucky promised, and he meant it. You nodded, your head falling back as he slowly rocked into you. 

Your vision focused in on the moon hanging above you in the sky, and you didn’t care about being outside, even as the warm breeze ruffled your hair. 

“Bucky... fuck,” you whined, arching your back, pushing yourself further onto him. Your knees went over his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as he rocked his hips against yours. 

The slow, deep rhythm had you struggling to breathe, pleasure rolling through your body in thick waves. Bucky was overwhelmed by the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around him, tight as he fucked into you all the way. 

“That’s my girl,” Bucky praised you as you pushed down to meet his powerful thrusts. 

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, and you felt pressure building low in your belly as he repeatedly hit the spots inside of you that had you seeing stars. You were moaning his name and writhing below him, the sight making him nearly explode.

“Y/N,” Bucky gasped out, fucking into you roughly, one of his hands rubbing your clit to help you along before he couldn’t fight off his own orgasm any longer. 

With the added stimulation, the pressure snapped inside of you, making you squeeze around him and come with a scream, not caring if you stirred the neighbours. 

Let them see Bucky taking you on the hood of his car. 

Your name fell from Bucky’s lips like worship, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and forcing you to contract around him pushed him over the edge. He came inside of you, painting you with his release and prolonging your own pleasure.

You looked down at him once the buzzing pleasure started to subside, a sleepy smile on your face. He grinned at you, pulling you up into a sweet kiss. 

“Still hate me, doll?”

[cloudspotterclub]

undereyes (p.p.)

Pairing: graduate!peter x fem!reader

Summary: You and Peter had drifted apart after high school, so why did you wake up with him in your bed?

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: friends to strangers to lovers, no smut, all fluff

a/n: I wrote this in high school with a pair of OCs, but I figured it fit with Peter's character too.

Rubbing under my eyes does no good. The mascara refuses to come off.

I stare at my reflection, sleepy and irritated. The dark stains make the circles under my eyes seem blacker than usual. Why I opted for waterproof mascara, I don’t know. I don’t know why I didn’t properly remove it before going to bed either, but I regret it standing in the bathroom the morning after. That’s just about the only thing I regret, though.

Last night was fun. Really, it was. I hadn’t intended for it to be, but as I walk back out to my bedroom, I can’t remember why I dreaded the reunion so much.

Of course, there was the fact that it had been, what, five years since high school? I thought it was strange having a class reunion so soon, but I caved when my old friends started asking me if I was going. There’s something about getting back in touch with someone that makes you wonder why you ever drifted away. Most of the time, you drift apart again, like two broken-off branches floating down a river. Sometimes the current forces you back together, sometimes it forces you apart. Then there are the times you bump into each other, and the force of that interaction pushes you further away.

Still, the first conversation is always the best. That’s what I think as I glance over the long shape curled up on my bed.

He came up to me first, asked how I was doing. Initially, I was just relieved to have someone to talk to after my friends wandered off. But as the conversation progressed, I started noticing. Noticing him. Every part of him that had changed, but mostly the parts of him that hadn’t.

Same kind eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and infectious smile. I definitely remembered those dimples. But he stood taller, more assuredly. You’d have never known how reserved he once was; his gestures now were almost as loud as his voice.

His hair was different too, no longer straight and fried, rather loose and curly. Maybe even soft. I held back the urge to run my hands through it like I used to.

We were friends. Close friends. I always thought he was cute, but nothing more. He wasn’t part of my close circle, my safety net of friends, so whenever I was with him, it was just the two of us. When he left for university, the current ripped us apart.

Seeing him now, in my bed, I can’t remember why we weren’t together. The harsh sunlight is filtered through my curtains, and is diluted enough by the time it reaches his body, bouncing off his pale chest. He looks like he’s glowing. An ethereal sort of way. His legs are tangled up in my sheets, while his arms are still outstretched after being wrapped around me the whole night through. His mouth is parted ever so slightly, and I can hear the soft sounds of his breathing, muffled a bit by the pillow under his head. I can only see his profile, but I decide I’ve never seen anyone look so fascinating.

He’s doing nothing but sleeping, and I want to study him forever. I don’t know how else to describe him in this moment but beautiful.

He stirs a little as I sit down on the edge of the bed, and I immediately regret doing so. I take back the thought as his eyelids flutter open, and I get my first peek at his gorgeous brown eyes today. It’s like a gift from the universe, watching him awake.

He rubs at his eyes and smiles delicately. “Morning.”

His raspy voice catches me off-guard, and I fight to not let it show. “Good morning to you too.”

He takes in his surroundings for a moment, squinting, before his eyes settle on me. “Must’ve fallen asleep. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, wondering how he could ever be sorry for the best night of my life. “No, no, don’t worry. It’s been a while since I’ve had company, anyway.”

He pushes himself up on his forearms, and seems to notice his lack of a shirt. He’s not muscular, but less skinny than he used to be. “I hope I didn’t disappoint.” He pauses, looking unsure. “We didn’t…?”

My eyes widen, “Oh, God, no.” Maybe I shouldn’t have sounded so frantic, because he cringes a little. “I mean, we could’ve, but we were both exhausted, remember?”

He seems to calm down and nods absently. “Right. I remember.”

“A few of us came back to my place last night, and you stayed behind because you said you were waiting on your ride, right?”

His cheeks flush a light pink. “Yeah, Ned was my ride. Hey, you remember Ned?”

I nod. I’d heard his name thrown around in the rare instances we tried to Skype when Peter and I were freshmen. They were college roommates, and I hear they recently moved in together. I don’t know why I didn’t bother calling when I found out Peter was permanently back in town.

He drops his gaze. “Um, it turned out he couldn’t come, and I just sort of never made other arrangements for a ride home.”

His confession makes me a little giddy. “Oh. Then I suppose offering my bed to you wasn’t as pathetic as I thought.”

A short burst of laughter exits his mouth, and his eyes rise back up to mine. “Neither of us are very good at this, are we? How did we end up here? I woke up at, like, dawn or something and you were on my chest. Not that I’m complaining. My arms were wrapped around you, and I was very comfortable, if I may say so.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “I think I recall suggesting that a Great British Bake Off marathon would be more comfortable in my bed than the sofa. So that’s how we got there. And you suggested it was a little hot under the blanket.” I point at his shirt on the floor. “So that’s how your shirt got there.”

“What about the tangled-up-in-each-other’s-arms part?”

“That, I don’t know. I guess it just sort of happened when we fell asleep?”

That last part’s a half-lie. I know how it started. We were a foot apart on the bed, and I knew I was drifting off, so I kind of just let my head droop onto his shoulder while we were still sitting up. I don’t remember anything after that, though.

His sheepish grin makes me want to melt. “I guess Mary Berry’s voice is more soothing than I thought. I think you fell asleep on my shoulder.” Oh. So maybe he did know. “But, I suppose I also remember easing the both of us down together when I started dozing off.” Oh.

I picture it now. Him slowly sliding me down along with him, and letting my chin line up against his shoulder still as we lie down. Then, him pulling me in some more so his arms can reach around my waist. Me slowly moving my head onto his chest to get even closer.

Alright, I may have woken up last night, too. Just for a bit.

I shrug, shaking off the comfort of that image. “Oh, well. I have no complaints either. Best sleep I’ve had in months.”

He smiles again, then searches around the room for something. “What time is it?”

I don’t actually have a clock, so I reach for my phone on the bedside dresser. “A quarter past six. Why? Do you need to be somewhere?” I silently curse the urgency in my voice.

He shakes his head. “Nowhere. Not for the entire day. You?” I copy his movement. “So, uh, do you mind if I stay here for a bit? I mean, your bed. With you? Er, no, not like that. Just, like last night? Is that lame? I know it’s your place, and I really shouldn’t be intruding. Honestly, it’s so rude of me, anyway, crashing here so impromptu-ly, um. That’s not a word, is it? I meant to say, an impromptu visit is just so—”

I shut him up by sliding back into his arms. I feel his breath catch, then he relaxes a second later and eases us back into the position I woke up to. He gently kisses the top of my head, and that’s all it takes to get me slipping back to sleep.

[arvinsescape]

I loooooove your writing! Could you maybe do like a period simulator with Tom and co, like maybe they made a comment that it’s not even bad but you took it the wrong way and it’s like ‘oh okay…you think YOU could handle it. Put your money where your mouth is big guy’

A/N: I actually love watching these kind of videos, I find them hilarious! I hope you enjoy 💕

Warnings: Swearing.

You were curled into yourself on the couch, a wave of period pain having hit you hard. You always got bad period pains, they could be awful and made you want to spend all day in the house and in bed. You lived with the boys and it was great, truly but sometimes they could be such boys.

"What's the matter with you?" Haz asked as he sat next to you.

"Cramps." You muttered out and he furrowed his brows.

"You ill?" He asked as Tom appeared, handing you a hot water bottle.

"Thank you baby. No, not really." You answered as Tom sat himself down and found something to watch.

"Oh." Harrison dragged out as realisation dawned on him. You laughed at his reaction as the rest of the boys appeared in the living room. Harry and Harrison's girlfriends appearing, throwing you a bunch of chocolate they'd just been to the shop for.

"Thank you." You said happily as you grabbed a bar and started eating it. It wasn't long before a fresh wave of cramps hit you, causing you to clutch your stomach.

"Is it really so bad?" Harrison asked and all girls snapped their heads in his direction, eyebrows raised. Tom looked at Harrison before shaking his head.

"Yeah, it's horrible." You said and Haz's girlfriend hummed in agreement.

"Like how bad though?" Haz pushed and Tom laughed out as he shook his head, he knew they were bad for you. He'd seen some of your worst periods so he knew they were bad.

"Like it feels like your having your entire uterus ripped out sometimes." Haz's girlfriend said.

"I just don't see how they can be so bad." Harry said, you were sure he didn't mean anything by it but given the fact that you were on your period, you may have taken it slightly to heart.

"I bet you couldn't handle it." You stated and Harry laughed.

"Bet I could." He fired back.

"We'll see." You said ominously and Tom burst into a fit of laughter.

"That sounded threatening."

**

It was three days later, you'd had to wait on delivery for the period simulator, you'd seen the videos circulating online and decided it might be a fun thing to give the fans as content.

"Right," you said as you made your way into the living room, all heads snapping your way. Grace had a smile on her face, she knew what the plan was and she was all for it. "Here," you handed the device to Harry who looked at you with furrowed brows. "Let's see if you can handle it." You said with a smug grin.

"Serious? Is this one of those simulators?" He asked and you nodded. "Wait, I want you to try it first." He said as he handed it back to you and you shrugged before attaching yourself to it. "Okay, off we go." Harry said, device to control the levels in his hand.

You felt the discomfort start but it was nothing compared to what you usually put up with. Grace looking at you with a smug smile, she knew you were going to show them up. Harry continued to casually up the numbers, it wasn't until around the number eight that you started to really feel it, it was like being on your period all over again.

"Okay, that's about where I'm at." You stated and Harry looked at you, the device had ten settings, apparently ten was supposed to resemble childbirth but you could neither confirm nor deny that claim. "Keep going." You encouraged and Harry did.

Number nine felt horrid and almost had you wincing but you held strong, you could handle it. It was number ten that genuinely had you in almost tears, but you'd done all of them, you doubted the boys would be able to follow.

"Okay, that's all ten. I reckon I could do it." Harry said smugly, Tom had an impressed look on his face, he knew people who had used these things and heard how painful they could be.

"Go ahead." You teased as you swapped what you were both holding. Harry hooked himself up, giving you a thumbs up as you started at level one. He gave a small grimace but nothing more, it wasn't until level four that he started hissing in pain.

"Shit, that's actually painful." He said and all the girls laughed. "What number is that? Ten right?" He asked cockily.

"Four." You confirmed with a small grin, his face dropped at the news. "No way." He said and you laughed again as you upped the level. He cried out as he clutched at his stomach, head shaking as Tom burst into laughter.

"Okay, no. That's enough. You're right, I can't handle it." Harry said and you switched it off, laughs filling the room. "I bet I've done better than you guys." Harry said and of course being the competitive lads they were they accepted the challenge.

"You've got his babe." You encouraged your boyfriend who grinned at you and shot you a wink.

Tom got to five himself before he was clutching at his stomach and rubbing his thighs.

"What the fuck? Why do my thighs hurt?" Tom exclaimed and Harry pointed at him.

"Right? What is that all about?" He asked and his girlfriend fell into a fit of laughter.

"Yeah, it's not just our stomach's that hurt you know." She said as she kissed her boyfriends cheek.

He managed a six, wanting to out do his brother if only by one and you laughed as he shook his head when you went to up it again.

"What was your level of pain?" He asked as he sat next to you.

"Eight." You confirmed.

"Fucking hell. Now I really feel for you." He said as he pulled you into his side.

"My turn." Tuwaine said, sounding pumped. "I'm gonna smash this, I've broken a wrist." He said and Tom laughed.

"I have broken many bones and I would take it over that."

Tuwaine managed a four, he was somewhat disappointed in himself. You laughed as you watched him cave, giving in.

"No, fuck that shit." He said as he handed the device to Sam. "Why do things ache that shouldn't? I'm glad I've never doubted how bad they are" He laughed.

"Right?" Both Tom and Harry shouted.

Sam also stopped at four, adding to the boys revelation that more things than just your stomach hurt.

"Imagine back pain factored into that." Grace laughed.

"And the super tender tits." Harry's girlfriend added as you all fell into a fit of giggles.

"Yeah, I take my hat off to you." Sam said as he passed it to Harrison, the last contender.

"I can do this. I'm the strongest." He laughed as he flexed his bicep.

"Don't think strength has much to do with it." Tom laughed as he lazily ran his fingers over your arm. "Y/N currently holds the record." He said with pride, "and I'm stronger than she is." He added in a teasing tone.

"You wish." You said as you playfully punched his chest and he laughed as he grabbed your fist and playfully restrained you before placing a series of kisses to your face.

"Guys, my turn." Harrison laughed and you giggled before Tom released you and snapped his attention back to his friend.

Harrison was quite funny to watch, he got to five, without making a noise. But every single person in the room knew he was in pain, face red as he bit harshly into his lip.

"That hurt a bit mate?" Sam teased and you all laughed as Harrison shook his head, too afraid to speak. You upped the level and watched as he curled into himself but he didn't give. "You can give in you know." Sam added and all he got was a shake of the head in response. It was when he got to seven that he cracked.

"Jesus fucking christ." He exclaimed as he fell to his knee on the floor. "I'm out, I'm done. That was horrible. Pure torture." He said as he practically ripped the device from himself. "What'd I get?"

"Seven." You said.

"Suck it Holland." Haz cheered as he threw a middle finger up at his friend.

"Still couldn't beat my girl though could you?" Tom teased with a finger back.

"By one!" Harrison said and Sam laughed out loudly.

"No, she did all ten. Eight was about where her pain is but she still did all ten." Sam defended you.

"I still don't get it," Harry piped up. "Why do your thighs hurt?" He started again as you all fell into laughter. You couldn't wait to upload the video later. The room bursting into chatter about the pain their partners felt on a monthly basis. Safe to say you proved them wrong.

[wooteena]

technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic

also on ao3!

hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3

chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it

-

Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.

But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:

‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’

Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.

And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.

He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’

Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.

As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.

Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.

With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.

They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.

Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-

BAM.

Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground

The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.

“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?

That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.

He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.

The child.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.

“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.

He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.

Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-

Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.

Am I a father now?

What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?

I can’t just take him home.

What’s stopping you?

Oh my God, I’m a genius.

Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.

Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.

He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.

So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.

He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.

The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.

He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.

Shit.

Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.

-

acording to tumblr statistics, only a small percentage of people who like the post actually reblog it. so if you liked it, give it a reblog! it takes five seconds and you can always delete the reblog later.

[mercy-burning]

Win Me Back

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader’s ex-boyfriend comes back to town, he finds a way to make amends— with a little help from her niece.

Category: FLUFF

Warnings: None other than a few swears :)

Word Count: 3k (I barely made the limit, folks, that was hard lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my entry for @homoose ‘s 2k Celebration!! And if this fic seems familiar, that may be because it’s a re-telling of the car-wash scene from Ramona and Beezus 🤭😂 It’s one of my favorite movie scenes of all time, it never fails to make me squeal, and I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!

Also! I tried very hard to find the scene for you to watch incase you haven’t seen the movie, but the ones I did manage to find on YouTube cut out THE BEST PARTS, so I’m sorry 😭 But in case you want to know the ~vibes~ I tried to capture and don’t feel like watching the movie, I made THIS post last night with some dialogue/background from the scene if you’d like to read it! Obviously it’s not required since what I’ve written is quite different, but it is encouraged 😊

I hope you like it!! And if somehow you haven’t followed Moose yet, you should! She’s the sweetest ❤❤❤

***

Y/N found an abundance of upsides to taking neighborhood walks with her niece. For one thing, it gave her a distraction, something to focus on as she made sure eight-year-old Piper wouldn't wander too far from the sidewalk. She found solace in quizzing her on the multiplication table as they made their way around the block, an activity in which Piper enthusiastically flaunted her love of numbers.

It was also nice to stay outside and take in the warm sun and soft rustling of the trees, though every once in a while all of it wasn't enough to keep the memory of Spencer at bay.

After all, it was kind of hard when he was back in town, and after all these years he was reaching out to her like he hadn't broken her heart in the first place.

"You seem sad, Auntie," Piper said, grabbing Y/N's hand as the turned the corner.

Y/N swung their arms together gently, smiling down at her with a tilt of her head. "Why d'you think that, hon?"

Piper gave a little shrug, her ponytail blowing softly behind her. "You don't smile as much. And you always smile when you're with me... And you asked me the same times equation 3 times in a row just now. You're distracted."

Y/N couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her. You sound just like Spencer... Instead, she told her, "Aw, I'm sorry, Kiddo. My mind is just in a... confusing place right now. But I'm very happy that you got to come stay with me this weekend, you always brighten my day." She punctuated her sentence with a little boop on Piper's nose, to which she giggled and asked for another math equation.

The two of them continued around the block a few rounds, though on their fourth and final one, Y/N noticed very familiar car parked just outside her house.

Heart jumping into her throat, she stopped in her tracks, and Piper kept going only to be pulled back slightly. The girl turned to her aunt and furrowed her brow. "Auntie, why did we stop?"

"Um... I just wasn't expecting any company today besides you..."

Y/N certainly wasn't ready to discuss everything that was going on with Spencer to anyone, let alone her eight-year-old niece who wouldn't probably understand or care anyway. So she explained it the best way she could, quickly coming up with a plan to avoid him as long as possible.

"See the car parked over there?" Y/N asked, and Piper nodded. "Well, that's an... old friend of mine... And we haven't talked in a long time because we don't really get along anymore. So when we get up to the house, he might try to talk to us, and I'm going to tell him that we're busy."

"He's not mean, is he?"

Sensing Piper's reservations, Y/N reassured her while letting her own contempt for her ex fuel the conversation. "No, but... He broke my heart. And he—"

"Y/N... Hi..."

She nearly jumped, mostly from surprise, but also at the fact that hearing her name coming from his lips and his voice and just him brought back a flood of feelings she'd rather have forgotten. Still, she turned to him and cleared her throat. "Spencer... Hi."

Piper suddenly let go of Y/N's hand, a small scoff escaping her. "Oh. Spencer..."

The two adults turned to look at her with surprise, though it was Spencer who spoke up. "You... know me?"

"Mhm," Piper returned with a nod, crossing her arms. "I heard Mom and Auntie talk about you yesterday, and she says you have a stupid, beautiful face."

"Piper!" Y/N screeched, heat rising to her face. "I... You can't tell people that, I— That's not... I..."

"Oh... I'm sorry, Auntie," the little girl said quietly.

Y/N was fully prepared to dig a hole and stay buried in it forever, and her embarrassment grew even stronger when Spencer spoke up again. "It's okay," he reassured gently, a small laugh sounding from his throat that regrettably gave Y/N butterflies. "You're auntie's definitely right, I do have a stupid face."

Before Y/N could stop the conversation altogether, Piper cut in quickly, being sure to add, "And beautiful."

Spencer's eyes flicked up to Y/N, drawing her in with amusement and charm, a fact which she hated to her core. Because it was working, and that was annoying as hell. "Yep," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "And beautiful."

And then the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, flashing her the most amused, stupidly perfect smirk.

Piper started talking again, and for the second time that day, Y/N wished she hadn't even said anything at all, keeping this whole situation to herself.

"But we can't talk to you, because you broke Auntie's heart, and we're busy. C'mon, Auntie. Let's go." Piper grabbed Y/N's hand and led her up the rest of sidewalk until they got to the driveway. And even though it might have been childish to completely ignore Spencer as they walked past, not giving him a second glance, quite frankly she was quick to abort the situation as soon as possible.

Unfortunately for her, Spencer was persistent.

They were almost to the steps up to the door when he called out. "Piper! Can I ask you something?"

The little girl turned around, losing grip of Y/N's hand and greeting his gaze without batting an eye. "Sure."

Damn kids and their willingness to be nice to strangers, Y/N grumbled in her head.

"I know... your auntie is an important person to you, right?" Spencer inquired, walking up the driveway with his hands in his front pockets. Y/N swallowed, most certainly not noticing how the sun perfectly highlighted him in a glow that made him look more beautiful than stupid.

Piper nodded.

"Well... She's important to me, too. And I really hurt her feelings, but I want to make it up to her. Would you be kind enough to let me try?"

Damn him, Y/N grumbled yet again. Damn him, damn him, damn him to hell... Why was he so charming?

He'd always known that kids were a soft spot for her, and when they'd dated, they talked a lot about having some of their own  one day. Every time they took a walk in the park and they passed a kid, they always gravitated to Spencer, giving him the biggest smiles, and in turn he would give them a high five or perform a little magic trick to make them smile even wider. And Y/N melted into a damn puddle every time.

He knew exactly what he was doing, using Piper as a means to win her back, but even still, she knew that because of his gentle nature, most of it was... well, nature. Deep down, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that he was a kind person. They may have ended things on bad terms, sure, and Y/N could pretend he was cruel all she wanted— The truth was that no matter how their relationship ended, he was a good man at heart.

And that's why it hurt so much.

Y/N thought for sure Piper would fall into his web, but she was pleasantly surprised when the girl responded with, "I don't know... I don't know if I trust you yet."

You and me both, Kiddo, Y/N thought to herself.

Spencer laughed again. "That's fair. Look, you can say no, but... How about I give you something in return?"

"Spencer, that's no—"

Piper crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, interrupting Y/N before she could finish protesting. "How much we talking?"

"Piper!"

"Well, I was going to offer to show you a magic trick, but I suppose I could work you a deal... I only have a hundred bucks on me, would that be enough?"

Sure enough, Spencer pulled a one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket, and the young girl's eyes went wide. Y/N's did, too, but more likely than not it wasn't a means of excitement.

"You have yourself a deal!" Piper squealed with a jump. She ran over to take the money, meanwhile Spencer looked up at Y/N with a smile.

She didn't return it.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked softly. Kindly.

"Well, I'm babysitting Piper today, so you'll have to come back another time," she returned a little coldly, hoping that she and Piper had just scored a free Benjamin to pig out on ice cream while Spencer was left waiting forever for a conversation that was never going to happen.

Funny how eight-year-olds always had a way of making things more difficult for you.

"Auntie, Spencer and I made a deal. He gave me money, and now he has to make it up to you. Remember?"

Y/N groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I remember..."

"Well, how about I... take you guys out for lunch? My treat? If it's alright, we can go to McDonald's..."

"The one with the play place?" Piper gasped, immediately turning to Y/N. "Oh, Auntie, please can we go? Please, please, please?"

She looked up at Spencer, shaking her head in exasperation as he smiled at her, those sparkling honey eyes reeling her in whether she wanted them to or not. Then she turned to Piper and sighed.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

***

Y/N was surprised Spencer didn't try to talk to her more on the drive over. Though, Piper did most of the talking, telling Spencer about how much she loved numbers and math, and he even quizzed her on some multiplication equations on the way.

If she wasn't so annoyed with him, Y/N would have melted completely.

It was the getting into the restaurant that worried her the most, though. She knew that once Piper ran off to play while they waited for their food, he would spend whatever short amount of time he had trying to win her back. And she was afraid of two things, mostly that she would end up crying in the restaurant, making a scene and wishing she'd never agreed to go, no matter how heart-broken Piper might have been. But there was also a small part of her, nestled deep into her heart, that was afraid she'd fall for him all over again.

He certainly made falling easy.

When the three of them stepped into the restaurant, it was easy to see how excited Piper was to be there. She gently tugged on Y/N's sleeve before looking up at her. "Nuggets, fries, and Sprite?"

"Apples, too, and you've got yourself a deal," Y/N said.

Piper nodded, not really caring but eager to go and play. So she sighed and nodded, leaving her with a, "Be careful!" as she saw the girl quick-walk over to the play area. There was a decent crowd that day, but thankfully no one in the restaurant seemed to have any grievances or knacks for trouble.

Spencer on the other hand... Y/N scoffed to herself, thinking how he was the most troublesome person in the area.

He proved her point by nudging her with his elbow. "She's a fun one."

"Yeah, she's somethin' alright," Y/N grumbled. "I can't believe you bribed her just to talk to me... If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were being romantic. But I do know better, and you're just stubborn."

Spencer laughed, but she refused to look at him. "Aw, come on, give me some credit. You know I can be a little of both."

This time Y/N did look at him, squinting in a glare, like she was contemplating. "Eh... five to ninety-five. Leaning in favor of stubborn, of course."

"Obviously." The amusement in his voice made her hate his stupid, beautiful face even more than usual.

Thankfully he kept the conversation short after that, at least until they ordered. Since it was Spencer's treat, she milked his wallet for as much as she could afford to on fast-food. She ordered a large chocolate milkshake and enough food for her and Piper to share for dinner later— and probably lunch the next day, too. The amused chuckle Spencer let out as she was ordering did have her believing maybe she was being a bit childish. But the longer she thought about it, the more she stood by her actions.

He did break her heart after all. The least he could do was compensate through chicken nuggets and French fries.

The only thing she didn't count on, though, was how long it was going to take to make all her food, not to mention getting things done for other people. As she and Spencer made their way to the table, she realized she'd have to talk with him longer.

Spencer took advantage of this, naturally.

"So... How've you been?"

Y/N scoffed. "You show up out of the blue five years after you break up with me, and then have the nerve to ask me how I've been, in a McDonald's? Yeah, I've been great."

He sighed, his eyes flitting down to the table. "I know, I'm... I'm sorry. And I know I should have—"

"Spence, please don't... Look, I know... I know why we broke up, and I came to terms with the fact that your job was just to dangerous for us to be together, but... I mean, you weren't even willing to work it out, you just... ran away. That hurt."

"Y/N... I'm so, so sorry that it happened that way. I think about it almost every day and how much I wish I could have changed it..."

"But you can't change it. And now you... you show up here after all this time to—to what? Win me back? Use your kindness and your charm to reel me back in, like that'll somehow make everything better?"

He looked up at her through his eyelashes, the sight almost breaking her. "Maybe..."

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, Spence, because I do... I've dreamt about the day you'd come back and apologize, begging me to take you back... But I can't get hurt again. And you have to understand that."

"I do... Just..." His hands reached out across the table, gently touching hers. The feeling sparked something in her, something nostalgic and warm...

Something that felt a lot like home.

He was going to continue his speech, but a knock on the glass separating them from the playroom on the other side jolted them apart. It was Piper, a stern look on her face. "Don't try anything, Mister... You're still on thin ice."

She turned away then, running back to the slide when Spencer sighed. "I thought we had a deal."

Y/N laughed, nodding at Piper through the glass. "Even a hundred bucks and free food isn't enough to win someone's trust." Spencer looked over at her and waited, visibly swallowing. But Y/N flashed the smallest of smiles before finishing, speaking quietly, yet with all the truth and firmness in the world. "You have to work harder than that."

"Duly noted," Spencer replied, his gaze never straying from hers. "Looks like me and my stupid, beautiful face have some work to do."

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair as Spencer grinned like a fool... A stupid, beautiful fool. "Oh, alright... You know what... If you weren't paying for my mountains of food and giving me a ride home, that thin ice you're on would have just shattered under the weight of that comment."

"Oh, come on, it was funny."

"No, it really wasn't."

"Yeah, it was."

He stared at her, smiling until her forced frown slowly and reluctantly transformed into a smile of her own.

***

"Thank you for lunch, Spencer! And for the hundred dollars!" Piper skipped past him and up the driveway, stopping to turn and wave with her Happy Meal toy in hand. Y/N was carrying a bag of leftover food and half a milkshake, her stomach already regretting every choice she'd ever made.

"You're welcome, Piper," Spencer said, smiling at the girl. "And thank you for letting me get a chance to set things right with your auntie. You really helped me out today, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Just don't break her heart again, or I'll break your stupid, beautiful face. It'll turn into a stupid, ugly face then."

Y/N mentally face-palmed herself, turning to Piper and telling her to go inside and wash up. The girl gave Spencer one final wave and a smile as she did so, leaving the adults alone once again.

"Thank you..." he said quietly, shifting on his feet. "For giving me a chance. I really want to make things right with us... Make up for the way I hurt you, and... try harder. You deserve that much."

Years of heartache and trying to get over him begged Y/N not to believe it, but deep down she knew he was being truthful. He wasn't the type of guy to come around like this—especially with all the work travel he did—just to manipulate her into heartache again, with empty promises and hurtful intent.

She knew he was really willing to try to make things right, and that was a big start.

"Thank you... for saying that... And for making Piper's day. I know you didn't really mean to bribe her, but the fact that you did it anyway is absurd, so... I guess I have to give credit where credit's due."

Spencer laughed, and this time Y/N didn't hate the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at the sound. "Well, I'm glad I could at least amuse you today. Does... this mean my romantic to stubborn ratio shifted a little bit?"

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Hmm... twenty to eighty."

"Still leaning in favor of stubborn, I suppose..."

The smile they shared in that moment felt more like the ones they used to share back then, officially kickstarting the slow, meticulous mending of their love.

"Obviously."

***

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a friendly bet

category: fluff/humor, spencer x reader warnings: briefly jealous Spencer word count: 1.34k A/N: this blurb was requested by loml @rigatonireid! the prompts are: "you're absolutely dreadful" + "you're my favorite know-it-all"

Spencer Reid really does know it all. His intelligence might be the most attractive thing about him — tied with his face, his hair, his height, his kind eyes.... Maybe Spencer Reid is just overall attractive and you love everything about him, inside and out.

So yes, you’re completely biased on the topic of your boyfriend, but you are aware not everyone shares this fondness of his brain.

He can’t really help that he corrects people all the time — his impulse just takes the steering wheel and makes his mouth move before he can consider if it’s appropriate to comment. The rest of the team is familiar with the quirk, but even they still take offense from time to time.

And the strangers you meet on cases are even less receptive to it. Local law enforcement tends to think that the FBI only shows up to throw their weight around their city, and Reid’s little know-it-all interjections only increase the tension.

It makes it that much harder to get along with them, which isn’t always something your team can afford when the stakes are high. So, you decided to make him a friendly bet that he couldn’t go one whole day without correcting someone on an instance it wasn’t truly necessary.

“I thought you liked my rambling?” Spencer’s bottom lip curled into a pout that you quickly smoothed away with your thumbs.

“I do! I just… think it might make things easier if you hold back a little. Some of the guys here are getting their feelings hurt.” You laughed and stroked his cheek, coaxing a smile out of him. Your proposition wasn’t a criticism of him. It was of everyone else.

“There’s no way I correct people that much,” Spencer scoffed and rolled his eyes, playfully pushing your face away from him like you were being ridiculous.

“Then take the bet and we’ll find out.”

And sorry to say, there was a way.

Not an hour into the day, the vein on Spencer’s forehead was at danger of bursting through his skin. It only came out when he was angry or deep in focus, and you really couldn’t pick which of the two were causing it now. (It was a bit of both.)

This morning, you were trailing about thirty feet behind everyone when coming into the station and Spencer, being the good boyfriend he is, held the door open for you the extra ten seconds. The receptionist at the front desk subsequently chewed him out about ‘letting all of the cold air come into the office’.

That was Spencer’s first test of the day.

Surely, every person in the world knows that’s not how thermodynamics work. Not even close. And if she didn’t know that, that was definitely cause for concern. So really, this felt like a necessary time for Spencer to speak up. For her sake.

But he saw the way your eyebrow quirked up and he knew it was a challenge. It was too easy of a win for you. So he decided to bite his tongue and apologize for the inconvenience.

His second test rose from an argument between Morgan and Prentiss. The barista Hotch picked up drinks from messed up the team’s order and they discovered they were short one coffee. Both threw empty threats at the other and insisted they needed the drink more, but it had come to a stalemate.

“Emily, I worked late last night.”

“What happened to ladies first?” She slid the cup to herself, and Morgan snatched it right back.

“I’m not seeing any lady here!”

Before Emily tossed her chair at Morgan’s head, Hotch suggested they just flip a coin to make it totally fair.

Spencer’s brain was screaming inside: The odds of a coin toss are actually 51/49! Trials have shown that a coin favors landing on the side that was facing up when it was thrown, so really, whoever picks that side has a better chance!

It isn’t so much a correction as it is a fun fact. A harmless little fun fact, surely people would like to hear it! He should share it, they’ll love it.

But you remembered Spencer telling you about this once before, and your eyes are narrowing on him with a smug expression.

‘Come on. Tell them’ your face seems to say. He knows it’s bait, and he doesn’t bite. Thirty-seven minutes into the day. He can do it.

And to your surprise, he did last. For a while. (A while being an hour and twenty-four minutes.)

After the morning briefing, Spencer saw some young male deputy follow you into the conference room. Where you were working. Alone. Why the hell did he need to speak to you alone?

He’s tall with cover-boy good looks (much like Spencer himself), but the thing that Spencer hated most about him was the way he’d been looking at you all week. It’s a nicer word than Spencer would use — he’d say it was more like staring. Watching. Creeping.

Yeah, that’s the one. He’s a creep and Spencer’s very suspicious of him.

So, he did what anyone would do and hid behind a tall potted plant near the window to peek into the room through the blinds. (It’s very inconspicuous, they should use him to go undercover sometime.)

“Can I help you with something?” You gave a polite, tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, I was just, uh—” he forced a laugh and rubbed his neck in some lame attempt to be charming that made Spencer roll his eyes. “I was wondering if you could fill me in on the investigation.”

He placed a couple of files onto the table next to you and rested a hand on the back of your chair.

You blinked uncomfortably between his sudden proximity and the flirtatious expression adorning his face. “Oh, uh, did you miss the briefing?”

He shook his head no. He was there, he was just making an excuse to come talk to you.

“Could you talk me through it again? I guess I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.” He flashed a smile and leaned his elbow on the table, effectively boxing you in with his whole body.

Before you could tell him to kindly fuck off, you got distracted by the sound of rustling leaves. Then four seconds later, Spencer burst in through the door.

“Actually!” he huffed, a little out of breath, “Goldfish have a long-term memory ranging from three to five months.” Once he catches it, he crosses his arms over his chest and straightens out his spine to make himself bigger. “So you should be able to figure it out on your own. Unless your brain is smaller than a goldfish’s, of course.”

You have to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at the deputy’s beet-red face. Spencer scrambled to pick up the files and shoved them back into the deputy’s arms as he “gently” ushered him out the door.

“That was cute of you.” You left a soft kiss on that protruding forehead vein that was finally beginning to go away. “You lost, by the way.”

.

“There’s no way you’re making me do this.” Spencer stood in front of your bathroom mirror with the grimmest expression on his face.

“Sorry, cutie, but you lost,” you teased, preening his hair into place.

A few weeks ago you saw an old picture of Spencer with his hair slicked back, and it’s all you’ve been thinking about ever since. You thought it made him look model-level good and begged him to do it again, but he was of a different opinion. Now, he had no choice in the matter.

“I can’t go to work like this, I’ll look like a joke. There has to be something else!”

“This is the only thing I want.”

He sighed, shoulders sinking as his whole body deflated. “You’re absolutely dreadful.”

You planted a sloppy, exaggerated kiss on his furrowed brows and continued combing the gel into his hair. “And you are my favorite know-it-all.”

-

visual aid (tumblr wouldn't let me insert it ugh)

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