#I just wish I could figure this out easily and get a clear yes or no. I wish this was easier.

[crispycreambacon]

Maybe I am autistic.......

[togeppys]

the waiting game ;

tsukishima kei x reader

reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.

You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about. 

You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk. 

The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt. 

At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better. 

"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution. 

Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend." 

The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!" 

Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?" 

Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.

"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.

Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said. 

"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates." 

Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity. 

You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return. 

"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter. 

Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store. 

"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air. 

The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red. 

"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment. 

"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks. 

"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path. 

"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused. 

"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him. 

"No." 

That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along. 

"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home. 

"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh. 

"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you. 

"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight." 

"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple." 

"I'm not going out with you." 

"It was worth a shot." 

As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street. 

When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches. 

When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands. 

Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face. 

"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother. 

"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below. 

You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.

"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym. 

"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury. 

"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.

You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match. 

To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals." 

You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you. 

After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.

Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand. 

You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friend’s tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team. 

The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands. 

When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight. 

You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests. 

"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."

"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark. 

"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see." 

"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations. 

"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all." 

"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone." 

"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend." 

"Mhm okay." 

"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?" 

You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym. 

He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach. 

"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you. 

You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion. 

"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you. 

"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard." 

The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time. 

"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly." 

"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?" 

"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made. 

"Nevermind, girlfriend it is." 

Bonus:

A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about. 

"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster. 

"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria." 

Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language. 

A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face. 

"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time." 

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)

read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!

Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.

He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking.  You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.

That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you.  Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?

Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer.  Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.

But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue.  Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.

I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…

He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably.  And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you.  Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?

And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.

As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.

“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud.  “You want it, baby?  It’s all fucking yours.”

He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier.  Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.

You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off.  It was still true, but more specific than necessary.  He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too.  But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.

“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now.  It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.

He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…

His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm.  “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”

He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close.  Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge.  His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.

It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment.  The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.

His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you.  He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.

When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.

No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.

It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind.  After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers.  (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)

Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless.  He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.

Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.

He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.

Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut.  As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.

Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention.  “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.

“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”

The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.

For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you.  He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual.  Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.

Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake.  Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.

The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.

Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top.  Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.

“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”

“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not.  Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter.  “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.

“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized.  “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”

“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”

“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”

The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.

“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile.  Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next.  “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”

He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion.  “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”

“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.

Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered.  “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh.  “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”

“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.

“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away.  He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned.  “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”

Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away.  The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.

He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you.  You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling.  But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.

Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.

Is this what love feels like?

//

It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more.  Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?

But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you.  Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders.  Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—

Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.

You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him.  Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.

For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz.  It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.

Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent.  His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough.  Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party.  Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.

And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you.  He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.

“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.

“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed.  “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”

He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away.  “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.

“Tell me what?”

“You remember Brian Stevenson?” 

“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur.  “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”

“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.

“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously.  “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”

“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed.  You nodded.  He looked away.  “Right— that’s… cool.  That’s cool.”

You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden.  “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”

“Right,” he interrupted sharply.  “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know.  That it wasn’t anything.”

“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.

“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen.  “Did you even mean that?”

“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously.  “That’s… that’s just something people say…”

He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you.  He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.

“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.

“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor.  “Don’t lie to me anymore.”

“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply.  “It’s— you know, it is what it is.  It was just one of those things.”

“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded.  He didn’t.  And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.

“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.

“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.

Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands.  That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad.  Not devastated.  Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.

It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun.  You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.

//

It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party.  Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail.  There was a lot more alcohol, though.

You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on.  Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.

Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back.  “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him.  Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up.  It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable.  He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.

You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race.  Who, after all, would he be racing against?

For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably).  He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.

Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly.  “Who’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”

You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.

Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.

“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious.  Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even.  You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.

“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.

“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him.  “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”

“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again.  “Fucking idiots…”

Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you.  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?

Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.

“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.

“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.

“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.

“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.

A brief moment passed.  “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.

“Jesus,” you hissed.

“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained.  “We were so good together.”

“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”

“No— it’s not.  It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.

“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.

“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced.  “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Damn right I’m not!” he spat.  “You’re all I could think about, for months!  Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head!  And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything.  Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”

“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.

“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you.  “Does he make you feel special?  Does he make you come?”

“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay?  I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you.  But… but what about me, y’know?  He doesn’t need you like I do.”

Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.

“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t?  But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you.  I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid!  You’re my dream girl!”

“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain.  “That’s a fantasy!”

“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side.  “It’s so real, you know it is.”

You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that.  You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.

And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless.  He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian.  You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.

He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other.  You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment.  Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.

Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so.  But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did.  And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.

//

You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement.  You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him.  He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?

“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.

“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.

“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.

He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.

“It was a mistake,” you decided.  “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go.  And if you didn’t tell Brian.”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly.  “I wasn’t gonna tell him.  But I still think you should dump him.”

“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.

“I know,” he breathed.

You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.

“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened.  “I fucking love you.”

“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.

“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded.  “I know how I feel, okay?  When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”

You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench.  Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.

“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed.  “You love me too, don’t you?  I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it?  It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”

“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”

He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again.  “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”

“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained.  “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”

“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this.  I want to really be together,” he replied.  You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again.  “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”

You shook your head.  “No, you can’t do that.”

“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized.  You smiled, but shook your head again.

“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.

He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground.  “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”

“What?!” you blurted out.  “Angus, no—”

“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms.  “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown.  You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”

“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”

“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.

Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment.  “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little.  “You can do a lot better than a state school.”

“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously.  “My grades are kinda… inconsistent.  And I went to so many different high schools—”

“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed.  “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here.  You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”

He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.

“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him.  “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”

For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face.  “Wait— is that what this is all about?”

“What?”

“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.

You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him.  Instead of answering directly, you just stammered.  “Well, y-you’re young, and—” 

He cut you off quickly with a laugh.  “Oh my god!  You think I give a shit about that?”

“No,” you shot back, “but you should.  You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge.  “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with?  What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without?  Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”

“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently.  “It’s your first love.  It fades.”

“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen.  “God, I don’t want it to.”

You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before.  In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact.  It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.

When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.  “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please.  Tell me it’s not going to end.”

“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest.  “It has to end, someday.”

You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.

“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.

Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.

There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end.  And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good.  That hope had only ever led to pain before.  But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.

So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday.  Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings.  Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave.  Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless.  Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.

Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive.  Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again.  Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.

The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter.  It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful.  He loved you.  Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special.  His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.

When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away.  “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it.  You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable.  After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.

Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different.  I trust you.  I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try.  I’m sorry.  I’m so glad I met you.  I’ll never forget you.  Please don’t let me go.

Somehow, you felt like he heard each one.  Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.

//

Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long.  You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.

The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets.  Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels.  You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.

Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.

“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.

Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh.  “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.

“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.

“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed.  “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not,” he shrugged.  “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”

“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much.  “Not here.”

“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even.  You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee.  After a few moments, though, you spoke again.

“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”

“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave.  You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass.  Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.

When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside.  Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

“Ow, not so hard man.” Eddie seems to be absolutely fascinated with Steve’s leg hair. Which, okay, Steve kind of understands, Eddie has neither legs nor leg hair, so he gets why it would be weird. He kind of wishes Eddie wouldn’t tug quite so hard though.

Eddie’s just demolished a big bowl of green things, and Steve’s sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the water where Eddie’s hovering, touching Steve’s skin with his slightly warmer than pool water temperature fingers. He’s scratching a little too, but it’s only a tiny bit, very gently, so Steve doesn’t mind. Eddie clearly doesn’t intend to harm him, and seems more fascinated with the thin white lines he’s leaving on Steve’s tanned skin.

Eddie gives a particularly vicious tug, Steve jerks, “Ow! Fuck. No, no more. Finished.” He sits up, pulling his legs clear of the water, waving Eddie away.

“Inied?”

“Yeah, finished. Ow. It hurts. You hurt me.”

Eddie tilts his head, swimming closer, “Steeee. Ow.”

Steve sighs, “Yes, ow. I’ll be back later.”

“I’m sure. Steve is the only one who feeds him, right?”

Steve and Robin both nod.

“Right, so, from his point of view, if he interpreted that as Robin trying to like, harm Steve, then his food supply would be jeopardized. He's just, resource guarding or whatever.”

“So...no play fighting within Eddie flopping distance?”

Dustin nods, “pretty much yeah, anything that could be interpreted as risk to Steve, I guess. Or, when Robin is here, she takes Eddie his food. Or anyone really, anytime anyone else is here. That way Eddie will start to see Steve isn’t his only resource.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s probably a good idea anyway,” Steve easily agrees, the now bare patches on his shins are still kind of stinging.

Robin returns with her bowl still full of veg, “he just won’t touch it. There’s still peas floating in the pool from last time.”

Steve sighs, “I really don’t know why he’s being like this.”

“Maybe he’s just pissed at me,” she shoves the bowl at Dustin, “you try.”

They all watch through the window as Dustin heads to the pool. They can tell from how he’s standing that Eddie’s at the end furthest away. Dustin kneels, tries offering things. It’s not long before he quits and comes back.

“How long did it take before he would eat? Maybe we just need to persevere?”

Robin disagrees, “once we figured what he would eat, it was pretty much straight away he was taking stuff from Steve.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s like, a trust thing, so if we stick this out long enough, eventually he will get hungry enough to give in, right?”

“We’re not doing that,” it just immediately strikes Steve as cruel, “he’s not put on enough weight yet for us to be fucking with his food supply.”

“Okay...okay yeah.”

Steve blinks awake. He’s not sure what woke him, but he’s almost certain he just heard something. He lies still straining to listen and yeah, he definitely heard something. Something or someone moving around downstairs. Steve quietly shifts, groping for the nail bat leaning against the wall as he slides out of bed, his heart feels like it's crawling up into his throat. He almost hopes it's a regular old burglary and not, like, monsters.

He creeps downstairs, luckily he was already sleeping in a tank top and shorts. He’s nearly to the bottom of the stairs when he hears it; a clunking noise and then, “Steee.”

He carefully puts the bat down immediately; figures Eddie got into the house somehow. Steve allows himself a moment to calm down, breathe deep and slow for a minute even as, in his head, he's calling Dustin a little shithead and blaming him for leaving the back door unlocked.

At the bottom of the stairs he can peer around the corner to see Eddie sitting in the hall. It’s light enough for Steve to make out that Eddie’s sitting quite tall, his tail curled into an ‘s’ shape underneath him. He has the phone from the hall side table held carefully next to his head, exactly like...well...like a regular person on the phone would, and while Steve is there, he says, “Steee,” uncertainly into the receiver.

For a moment, Steve is tempted to sneak up to the phone in his parents room and lift the receiver so he can answer Eddie, but quickly dismisses it; Eddie’s limited vocabulary makes it kind of pointless, anyway.

“Hey Eddie,” Steve steps off the bottom step.

“Stee!” Eddie turns to Steve, it's almost strange to see him without his sunglasses on now, and his eyes reflect what little light there is in a strange, silvery flash. He seems to remember then that he's holding something, forgotten for a second with the clear excitement of finding Steve, and he replaces the receiver on the cradle with surprising care; Steve wonders vaguely if he was just listening to the dial tone.

Eddie moves through the house, walking on his hands and using a unexpectedly efficient twist of his tail to push him along; he’s much more comfortable on land than Steve would have given him credit for. He stops and looks back, clearly waiting for Steve to follow him. Steve does. Dutifully following Eddie through the house, and it’s not until Steve’s at the door that he realizes it's not Dustin's fault at all – the spare key is in the lock. He doesn’t keep one out front – that’s just asking for trouble – but he keeps one out back. One that is only for absolute emergencies only, and it’s very specifically under the third plant pot along. Eddie must have seen Robin or one of the kids let themselves in and then just...worked it out for himself.

Well, huh, Steve thinks as he follows Eddie out into the yard and across the grass, past the pool and along to the tree line.

Steve wonders vaguely if Eddie actually does this often, getting out of the pool and exploring at night; he doesn’t seem to struggle, and he clearly knows where he’s going, passing through the tree line at the bottom of the yard and then a little further in.

Eddie comes to a stop, and when Steve gets there he sees what Eddie is looking at. It’s a bird. A pigeon probably, like a wood pigeon or something, if Steve’s very limited knowledge of birds is to be believed. It’s lying on the grass, clearly dead.

Steve crouches and watches as Eddie, very gently strokes the fluffy breast feathers of the bird, “Ow. Inied.”

Steve sighs he guesses finished is one way to put it, “yeah, yeah buddy. Uhm. Dead,” Steve pulls Eddie’s hand away, “dead. Don’t touch it. It’s dead.”

“Dead,” Eddie cocks his head.

“Yeah,” Steve yawns, getting sleepy again now the adrenaline’s died down and there’s clearly no danger, “come on, back to bed. Or, you know, the pool.”

Eddie’s reluctant to move at first, but then does when Steve gestures, sliding soundlessly back into the water.

“See you tomorrow buddy.”

“Budidy. Edidie.”

“Yeah, near enough.”

“Do you think he killed the bird?”

“Nah, there wasn’t any obvious like, injury or anything. And you should have seen how gentle he was with it Robs...it was like he felt bad, you know.”

She hums in agreement, “he must have seen someone at the lab use a phone, do you think?”

Steve figured the same, once he’d finished his night’s sleep and actually pondered on it. “Pretty sure he doesn’t know how to actually use it, he was just copying. But the fact that he worked out they were using it to talk to other people, that’s pretty smart, right?”

“Maybe we can teach him to use it?” Robin eats more waffle with her fingers, smearing the broken up bits through the cream. They’re sitting out on the pool chairs for breakfast.

“Dunno, numbers and stuff. A walkie though? I think he might be able to-”

“Steee! Steeee!” Eddie calls him from the water, arms resting on the sides. He’s smiling, looking happy, shades firmly in place today.

“What buddy?”

Eddie points confidently at the sky, “dead!”

Steve looks up; birds. There’s birds flying over.

“Oh no- birds. Eddie those are birds.”

He looks so confused, but Steve suddenly has an idea, “where you going dingus?”

“Be right back a second,” Steve heads into the lounge and runs his fingers along the lowest shelf of books, easily finding the thick children's encyclopedia he got for his birthday one year when he was little. He’s never even opened it, thought it was a shit present, but it’ll do for this.

He opens it on his way back to the pool, finding a page with a big colorful picture of loads of birds on it, sitting by the side of the pool where Eddie can see, “bird.”

“Buurd,” Eddie drags the word out, definitely making it more than a ‘u’ than an ‘i’ sound, but it’s definitely near enough.

“Yeah that’s right,” Steve lays the book out on the edge of the pool, “don’t get it too wet.”

Eddie tilts his head, “et.”

Steve slaps the water, “wet. Uhm.” Tapping the book, Steve says, “finished.”

Eddie looks at his hands, frowning.

“Right, wait,” Steve goes and grabs a towel, left forgotten on a pool chair, and brings it to the edge, “here,” Eddie’s close enough for Steve to take his hands easily, “wet,” after a moment of ruffling Eddie’s hands with the towel, Steve tells him, “dry.” Then he taps the book, “dry. Wet finished.”

He waits to see what Eddie will do, but he holds his hands carefully out of the water before he lifts himself to touch the book.

Steve turns to a page at random, showing Eddie a page with all sorts of big cats on it, lions and tigers and stuff like that, “go on, you do it.”

Steve gestures at Eddie, and, cautiously as he lets his elbows take his weight, Eddie carefully turns the page.

Part five

[xxsabitoxx]

I want a baby

<Tengen x Fem! Reader Drabble>

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, creampie with the intent of getting reader pregnant. Reader is female and wants to have a baby so if that makes you uncomfy don’t read lol

A/N: unintentionally got carried away with this one ngl. Kinda funny tho cause I was initially struggling to figure out what I wanted the premise to be for this Drabble and now here we are.

Word Count: 2k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Moonlight was filtering into the room through your open window, a cool breeze brushing your skin. The warmth of the man beside you created a stark contrast between the two sensations. Tengen himself was a walking furnace no matter the time of year. It was part of the reason you always slept with the window open. Well that and the fact that three other bodies were usually accompanying you. Tonight, however, was different.

Makio, Hina and Suma had gone away for a girls weekend. The only reason you didn’t go was because of a last minute mission you had been tasked with. They offered to wait for you, but you were adamant on them going as a trio. You had only convinced them by sharing your plans. This was the weekend you were finally going to tell Tengen of your wish. The very wish you and your co-wives had discussed quite frequently.

You wanted a baby.

“Ya know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” It helped that you couldn’t see his face at the moment, you were certain you’d crumble and become too nervous to bring up the idea. “That so? I’m all ears.” He teased softly, the mood of your conversation had been a lot of cheeky comments and playful banter. Dropping what you felt like was a bomb could potentially ruin the mood. Then again, it was nearly impossible to piss Tengen off.

“Well, Makio, Suma, Hina and I have been discussing this for a long while now…” you started, hand coming up to play with his large fingers. A clear sign to Tengen that you were nervous. “Okay, if it helps… I think I know where you’re going with this.” Tengen wasn’t dense when it came to you or your co-wives desires, he figured it was only a matter of time before one of you popped the question.“Well… if you think you know, I guess there is no reason for me to stall.”

You laughed softly, not able to ignore the pounding in your chest. “At least look at me before you tell me.” The tone in his voice was softer than you had ever heard it, making it just as hard to deny. So, you sat yourself up, moving to straddle your husband’s waist with a warm flush on your face. You balanced by placing your hands on his chest, smiling when his own came up to hold your waist. There was a relaxed smile on his handsome face, one that gave you the courage to say what you were holding in.

“Tengen… I want to have a baby.”

The smile on his face was nothing short of dazzling. “I thought you’d never ask.” You froze, for some reason you hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. Yet, at the same time you couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t. “Wait… really?” You blinked a couple times, the butterflies in your stomach turning into a frenzy. “Yes, really. I’ve been waiting for one of you to come to me with the question. Though I must say, I’m not surprised it was you.”

“Why’s that?” You adjusted your hips, a devious glint in your eyes. “Those three would do anything to get you to leave the corps.” And then it clicked, laughter bubbles in your chest as you fell forward to crush your lips to his. “Me too, for that matter. If I get you pregnant you need to promise me you’ll leave the corps.” This time, he kissed you, hands coming up to hold your face. “And not just while you’re pregnant and not until our baby is old enough to be without you. If I get you pregnant, you leave the corps for good.”

Your lips were centimetres apart as he spoke, your breath mingling. Part of you yearned to defy him, you wanted to stay in the corps and find a way to achieve the very reason you joined. Yet, the promise of a baby, the promise of a family… the promise of a normal life. It was outweighing your desire for revenge. “Deal. Get my pregnant and I promise you, I’ll leave the corps.” That same smile returned, Tengen took the initiative and flipped the two of you over. “Best way is missionary… though it’s a bit boring.”

“Oh—“ you felt warm and not just because of the hands pulling your clothes off of you. “Nothing is boring if it’s with you, Tengen.” You laughed as he threw the little clothes he had on, off the side of the bed. “Mmm that’s true, I do know how to make things flashy.” He was hovering just over your breasts as he spoke, finishing his statement with a long lick up your sternum. “You’ll look beautiful pregnant. Breasts swollen… everyone will know you’re mine… fuck never mind beautiful you’ll look ethereal.”

“You’re getting so far ahead of yourself.” Though, that statement fell on practically deaf ears. Tengen was too busy littering your chest and neck in bruises. Something Hinatsuru would certainly tease you about when they returned. For once in his life, the man couldn’t find the self restraint to take things slow. He wanted… no he needed to be inside of you. Now… if not sooner… hell at this point he was sure he should have been inside of you two minutes ago. “You’re so eager.”

It was breathless, not only was it rare for you and Tengen to have one on one time, it was rare for him to lose his composure in such a way. “Can’t help it…” was all he gave you, voice gruff as he moved himself lower, fingers reaching down to spread apart your folds. “You’re already so wet…” but he was also far too big to not prep you at least a little bit. “Can’t help it…” you mimicked him, a ghost of a smile on your face as you watched him observe your cunt.

“I-I can take it. Tengen if you’re that eager, trust me I can take it.” You knew him well enough to know he was going through an internal battle. Torn between going in with no prep and fingering you open just enough to get used to his girth. After nearly three years of marriage you think he’d know by now that you could handle him. “I don’t want to hurt you.” It was a soft murmur, even as he spoke he was collecting your arousal and gingerly pushing two fingers inside.

You gasped at the intrusion, hips jerking into his touch as he buried himself inside of you. “Y-you won’t hurt me.” It was meeker than you wanted it to be, mostly because he was curling his fingers exactly how you liked it. Gingerly he added a third, giving you a moment to adjust before repeating his previous menstruations. “Just give me a few moments, okay?” He continued pumping his fingers, watching as the crease in your brow melted away.

That’s when he knew the initial discomfort turned into pleasure. Tengen knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes, your body was like a never ending symphony that he had memorized every single note of. He could read you as easily as sheet music, never once making a mistake as he played it. “C’mon…Tengen please, that's enough.” Your walls were fluttering around his fingers. He must have trailed off while staring at you, his hand was slick with your arousal, your eyes filled with need.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you waiting…” he chuckled softly, pulling his fingers out of you and using your own arousal as lubricant for himself. You wanted to touch him, but at this point you just may shatter if you prolonged this any further. Instead, you watched him spread your juices and his own precum over his entire length, a shaky sigh leaving him as some relief was bestowed on his aching cock. “Tell me how bad you want this.” There was a hoarseness to his tone, his own eyes mirroring the desire that must have been shining in your own.

“H-huh?” You blinked, slightly pulled from your daze. “Tell me how bad you want this… how bad do you want me to put a baby in you?” Suddenly it felt like your mouth was full of cotton. Your legs spread just a bit wider, coming up to hook around his waist. “So bad…Tengen I’ve been thinking about it for months. I want you to get me pregnant so badly.” You swallowed, body feeling hot all over as you confessed. “Yeah? That badly? You’ve been thinking about this for months? Every time we fuck, hmm?” You nodded, face burning up as your hips shimmied to try and reach him.

“Yes…months. So please stop teasing me…” it was hard to deny you when you put it like that. Tengen aligned himself easily, pushing in as slowly as he could manage. His hands trembled with anticipation, coming down to hold your thighs and pull you up against him. “Gimme the pillow.” He motioned to his own, watching your head tilt to the side and reach for it with equally as shaky hands. He took it from you, slotting it under your hips to give you better leverage and more comfort. “There we go, pretty girl.” He smiled, white hair framing his face.

“You…you’re so pretty, Tengen.” The compliment had him turning pink, eyes shutting as he laughed softly. He bottomed out a second later, willing his hips to stay still as you adjusted. “Move already…please.” Your fingers were digging into the sheets, walls clenching around him over and over. Tengen clicked his tongue, laughing again as he spoke. “So eager…” he was pulling out as he spoke, slamming his hips back once he got half way. He built a steady rhythm, angling your hips in such a way that he was brushing your cervix with each pass.

An achingly beautiful symphony left your lips, edging him on as he whispered never ending praise. Things like how beautiful you were, how you’d look so cute pregnant, how you’d make an amazing mother. If anything, it was edging alone as well, cock pulsating with the need to fill you up until there was no possible way you wouldn’t get pregnant by the time he was done. “Tengen…fuck…” you said his name over and over, mixed between various profanities. Your clit was throbbing with need, desperately wanting attention as you felt the familiar tension in your gut.

Tengen, ever in tune with your body, reaches down to begin rubbing quick circles with his thumb. “C’mon, pretty. Cum for me…milk me dry.” Sweat was shining along his forehead, years of endurance training allowed him the ability to move the way he was. “Gonna cum… gonna….” The words died on your lips as your orgasm crashed down around you, warmth spreading through your whole body as Tengen worked you through it. “Good girl…” he groaned, body tensing as his own release threatened to pulse through him. “Hang in there for me…”

You could barely process his request, all you knew is he was pulling your hips up with him, moving to hover over you rather than kneel. He was forcing your body to contort into something reminiscent of a mating press, hips thrusting into you with new vigour as his release finally hit him. A whine of your name followed by breathy moans, the combination dizzying as he pressed himself as far into you as your bodies would allow. Moments of silence passed, Tengen still buried inside of you as he held your hips up. Nothing but the cool wind and your laboured breathing.

“Think we… need to do that a few more times” you finally choked out, laughing softly as his sweaty forehead met yours. “Oh definitely… I think two or three rounds may be necessary… you up for that?” Maroon eyes met your own, the closeness forcing a soft laugh from you. “Oh absolutely… maybe even more.” He merely hummed, eyes closing again to relish in the closeness between the two of you. He was more than determined to put a baby in you, no matter how many times it took.

[vbecker10]

What Prank?

Laundry Day (Loki x female reader Y/N)

How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)

Loads of a Fun (Bucky x female reader Y/N)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You and Bucky plan a week's worth of pranks to get back at Sam for telling Bucky the toaster was voice activated. A few days in, several members of the team decide to join in on the pranks without even questioning who is behind it.

A/N: So in Laundry Day (linked above) I wrote an off hand little comment about how much laundry Bucky needed to do and it led to Loads of Fun (also linked above). In that one, I mentioned a joke Sam pulled on Bucky and based on a poll I did, people wanted Bucky to get back at him so here we are 💚

This is not the same Y/N from Laundry Day & How Could This Not Fit?!, this is a different one. Apparently a bunch of women in the Tower have the same name as you (haha sorry that's dumb but I wanted them both to be Y/N fics so here we are)

Bucky's arm settles around your waist and he pulls you closer to him on the couch as you shut your laptop. "That's everything," you tell him with a triumphant smile.

"I really appreciate all of your help with this," he tells you and you turn to look at him. "I never would have even thought to do any of this myself."

"I'm happy to help. I hate when people mess with someone I like," you respond.

"Wait, you like me?" he asks jokingly.

You hit him lightly with a pillow, "I think I've made myself awkwardly clear about that."

He laughs and takes the pillow from you easily, "I'm just checking because I like you too." He moves his hand to the back of your neck and kisses you, when he pulls away he smirks and says, "You're an evil genius, you know that right?"

You giggle, "You have no idea."

Day 1

You sit at your desk, watching the clock closely as you wait for Sam's call. Ten minutes after 8, he finally reaches out and you answer professionally, "Stark Industries Technical Support, this is Y/N, how can I help you this morning?"

"Hi Y/N, it's Sam Wilson. There's something wrong with my ID badge I think, or my entry panel maybe. I'm not sure but I can't get into my office," he tells you.

"Oh no, that's not good. I'm going to put you on hold for a few moments while I look into this for you," you tell him and he says okay. After refilling your bottle with water from the kitchen down the hall, you take him off hold. "Hi Sam, sorry that took so long. Computer is a bit slow this morning," you make up an excuse and he asks if you figured out what's wrong with his door. "Yes, looks like we need to run a quick update on your entry panel. Should be about five minutes or so," you lie easily.

"Okay, thanks," he says but you can hear the annoyance in his voice before he hangs up.

You go back to checking your emails and five minutes later, you unlock Sam's office with a smile. Your phone vibrates, alerting you to a new text from Bucky, he has gotten so much better at sending them in the last few days.

<Hi doll, sounds like your plan is going well. I can hear Sam cursing up a storm from my office.>

You laugh at the thought of Sam being that annoyed and send him a quick text back.

<I think it's working so far 😈 He should be calling again any second.>

As if on cue, your office phone rings. "Hi Y/N, it's me again," he says in a defeated tone. "I can't log into my computer."

"Well aren't you having the worst luck this morning," you tell him. You pretend to type loudly so he can hear it, "Looks like your password expired. I'll set you up with a new temporary one and then you should be good to go." He tells you thanks again and you wish him luck before hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later, your phone rings a third time. "Its Sam again," he says as soon as you answer. "There's something wrong with my computer now. I can't get my email to open and all my programs are freaking out."

"Oh no... I see what the issue is," you say dramatically and he sighs over the phone. "It looks like your computer needs to do a pretty massive update." He asks you how massive and you respond, "About an hour... maybe an hour and a half."

As soon as you and Sam hang up, Pepper calls him and he immediately knows he's in for a long day. "Did you finish the reports for the briefing this afternoon?" she asks.

"Not yet, I've been having a lot of really weird tech issues today," he explains. "IT is on it but it's going to take a while to get me up and running."

"That's unfortunate," she says but there is no sympathy in her voice. "I suggest you work through lunch if needed, those reports were supposed to be on my desk last night."

"I'll get them done," he promises then hangs up. With a loud groan, he drops his head heavily on his desk.

Day 2

Sam complains to Steve and Bucky about all of his computer issues while on their way to his office. He opens the door and Bucky jokes, "Sounds like the tech gods were really pissed off at you, huh?"

"I guess, it really was the weirdest thing," Sam says shaking his head. Bucky and Steve each take a seat and Sam goes to sit behind his desk. As soon as he relaxes into his chair, the seat detaches from the base and he falls to the ground with a loud scream of surprise.

Sam gets up quickly from the floor as his friends come around to the other side of the desk. "Someone is messing with me," he declares over Bucky's laughter.

"Why would anyone do that?" he asks, trying to compose himself. "Not like you've ever pranked anyone around here and would deserve a little revenge."

"Not helpful Buck," Steve rolls his eyes. "Are you okay Sam?"

"Yea," he answers while he examines the chair. "Did you do this?"

"Me?" Bucky asks in response. "I can't even figure out how to use the toaster. How would I have broken into your office?"

Sam is obviously unconvinced and also on the right track. Last night after dinner, you unlocked Sam's office so Bucky could remove almost all of the screws from his chair. That wasn't the only prank you set in motion last night though. As per your plan, Bucky suggests they call maintenance for a new chair and get coffee while they wait.

Tony walks into the kitchen a few moments after the three of them and asks if they like the new coffee maker he just got. Sam pushes the button to make a medium size cup and turns to face him, "First time trying it out."

"Well be nice to it," Tony warns in a joking manner. "I had to lie to Pepper about how much the damn thing cost me but it's worth it for a perfect cup of-"

Tony's words are cut off my Sam swearing as the coffee begins to spill everywhere. The mug overflows and leaks all over the marble counter. Sam tries to press the off button to stop it but it continues to pour out.

"Don't hit it, just press it gently," Tony grumbles as he moves quickly towards his new favorite appliance.

"I am pressing it gently, it's not working," Sam says in a slightly panicked tone as the coffee spills onto the floor.

"How much coffee can that thing make?" Steve asks in shock as he backs up from the growing puddle.

Bucky shakes his head, his hand over his mouth to cover his laughter as he watches the scene unfold. He takes out his phone and sends you a text.

<Check out the security cameras in the kitchen. It worked perfectly>

Tony unplugs the uncooperative machine from the wall and looks angrily at Sam, "Do not touch this again."

"I barely touched it this time!" he counters as he moves away from the massive mess of spilled coffee. "I told them, someone is messing with me."

You reply back after pulling up the live feed.

<🤣🤣 Bonus points for Tony being so annoyed!>

"And how would this mystery person know you were going to use the coffee maker next?" Tony asks with his arms crossed.

"I have no idea," Sam sighs, rubbing his face.

"Just get back to work," he says, "And quit being so damn paranoid."

Day 3

Your head rests against Bucky's chest, his arm holding you comfortably as you watch a movie in his room. Half way through the movie, Bucky's phone begins to vibrate on the coffee table. "Hey Sam, what's-" Bucky answers but you can hear Sam yelling faintly over him.

"Put it on speaker," you whisper and he looks at you confused. You smile and take the phone, showing him how to change the setting and he nods as the background noise becomes louder.

"I can barely hear you," Bucky says and you cover your mouth to keep quiet.

"I said, my apartment is going crazy!" Sam yells over the sound of the TV and other appliances.

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks, his voice serious. He keeps his eyes on you and you try not to giggle.

"I don't know! I flipped the switch for the lights and the TV turned on full volume. I tried to turn it off but the remote doesn't work. The volume buttons control the air conditioner, the power button opens and closes my blinds, I even tried going in the menu but it turned on my freaking blender. How does that even happen?" he asks frantically.

"I have no idea what you want me to do," Bucky says and you shrug dramatically as if you don't know what is causing it either. "Sounds like your place is possessed," he adds. You giggle and he holds the phone away from himself to place a quick kiss on your cheek.

"I tried to call tech support but they are closed for the night," he explains. "Did you ever get the number for the woman in IT you know?"

"Who?" Bucky plays dumb.

He groans and you can hear the vacuum turn on, he must have tried another button on the reprogrammed remote. "The one you keep telling us is cute! Y/N, right? I talked to her the other day about my computer stuff," Sam says as the TV volume increases and decreases at random.

He blushes, he had forgotten he told Steve and Sam he wanted to talk to you weeks ago. "No, I chickened out of talking to her," he lies.

"Of course you freaking did!" Sam yells and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, "Screw this I'm gonna sleep in the common room tonight."

Bucky hangs up and tosses his phone back onto the table. You tap his shoulder with a smirk, "So... you think I'm cute, huh?"

He laughs, "Very." He kisses you and you lean into him as his arms wrap around you.

You curl up against him on the couch again then sit up suddenly. "What's wrong?" he asks when you get up.

You open your backpack and look over at him, "I brought my laptop... I can turn off the stuff in his room so if anyone checks, everything will be fine."

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he laughs and you kiss him when you sit next to him again.

Day 4

Sam finishes adjusting his suit as he walks into the training room with Clint, Bucky and Scott. Tony checks a few settings on his control panel while Thor and Loki finish up their sparing session.

When the door closes Loki chuckles and turns his attention from his brother to Sam. "I heard you had quite the night," the God of Mischief smirks.

"Seriously, even Loki knows?" Sam throws his hands on the air.

"I think the whole tower knows you think you someone is pulling weird pranks on you," Scott chimes in.

"I'm not paranoid," Sam says. "Someone here is out to get me."

"That sounds like something a paranoid person would say," Loki shrugs and Thor laughs loudly at his comment.

"I don't like agreeing with Reindeer Games but he has a point," Tony jokes, ignoring the side eye from Loki at his least favorite nickname.

"Fine, whatever," Sam gives up. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Yep," Tony agrees and motions for everyone to get back a bit so Sam can spread the wings on his new gear. He puts his goggles on and turns around, checking to see that everything is in place but his focus shifts when everyone beaks out into laughter.

"What now?" Sam asks, turning back to face the group.

"Nothing, I think we all just like the new look," Bucky says with a smile.

"What the hell?" Sam exclaimes when he catches sight of the back of his wings in the windows.

Bucky snaps a picture, thankful you showed him how to do that a few days ago, and sends it to you.

<I had no idea you were going to do this too! This is amazing!>

You open the picture of Sam's wings covered in googly eyes of every size and color, causing you to nearly spit out your water with laughter.

<I didn't do that... but I am a huge fan of whoever did it 🤣🤣🤣>

Sam looks angrily at Loki, "Why are you messing with me?" He pulls down his goggles and walks over to him.

Loki scoffs, unintimidated by the Falcon and says, "If I was 'messing with you' I would have done more then put paint on your eyewear."

He turns back towards the window quickly and sees two thick black rings of paint around his eyes. "Come on! What the hell guys?" he groans.

Bucky, Scott and Clint can barely keep themselves together long enough to deny they had anything to do with this new prank.

Thor almost looks offended and asks, "How come no one assumes it was me?"

Tony pats him on the back and says, "You're not exactly known for being stealthy." He crosses his arms but nods in agreement. "Alright, now that... that whole thing is out of our systems, let's see what the new wings can do," Tony suggests, bringing everyone back to their original reason for being there.

Sam agrees and everyone moves back a bit to watch him take off. Bucky let's a small smile slip when Sam tries to turn left to circle around the room but his suit doesn't respond correctly. He grows increasingly more confused and annoyed as he discovers his controls are reversed.

He lands after only a few minutes and Clint asks, "First time flying? That was rough to watch."

"Shut up," he answers, fiddling with the computer on his wrist as Tony walks over.

"I'll get this thing debugged and we can try again tomorrow, Tony tells him. He nods and leaves with a loud sigh. Bucky and Steve turn to leave as well but Bucky catches Clint and Scott nodding proudly to each other. He chuckles when he spots a googly eye stuck to Scott's shoe.

Day 5

"I am so over this," Sam tells Steve and Bucky as the walk towards the kitchen. "When I find out who is doing all of this they better apologize like hell cause I'm furious," he threatens and Bucky practically bites his tongue to stay quiet.

His phone chimes in his pocket and says, "New text message to Director Nicholas Fury."

"Shut up," he says as he takes his phone out of his pocket.

It chimes again, "Texting, 'shut up'."

"No, no, no! Cancel, cancel," he says, frantically hitting buttons but none of them work to stop it.

"Text message sent," it alerts him with another chime and he rubs his face.

"What the heck was that?" Steve asks.

"I don't know... It's been doing that all day," he says. "I talked to Y/N and she said she is going to have a new phone sent up to me as soon as Stark approves it."

"Y/N, the woman Bucky likes-" Steve starts to ask with a smile but he's interrupted.

"New text message to Tony Stark," his phone says.

"I hate you," he tells the phone as he tries to turn it off.

The phones responds, "Texting, "I hate you'."

He groans and Bucky begins to lose the battle to hold back his laughter. "What is wrong with you?" Sam struggles with the device.

"Texting, 'What is wrong with you?'" it again repeats Sam.

"Stop talking to it," Steve suggests.

"Texting, 'Stop talking'," the phone adds and Steve cringes. "Text message sent."

"I'm gonna get fired," he says and slumps against the wall.

"Finding instructions on how to make fire," it says as if that is helpful.

His phone chimes to alert him to an incoming text message. "Oh good... it's Tony," he says sarcastically.

"Could be worse," Bucky says with a smile and Sam looks up at him skeptically.

His phone chimes again. "It's Fury," he says with a loud sigh.

Bucky laughs, "See, now it's worse." Steve smacks him in the shoulder and shakes his head disapprovingly but Bucky can see the smile on his face.

Later that night, most of the team is relaxing in the common room until Sam walks in angrily. He slams his laundry basket on the coffee table in front of Natasha, Clint and Wanda. Loki looks up from his book in the corner of the room and Bucky follows Steve in from the kitchen.

"Who did it?" Sam asks.

"Oh, what horrible prank where you the victim of this time?" Loki asks with a smirk as he gets up from his seat.

He pulls out his bedsheets which are all different shades of pink, "Which one of you did this? These were new."

Bucky takes out his phone and quickly finds your chat. You text him back, showing the picture of the pink sheets to your friends who joined you for dinner.

<Omg, they did not!? That's amazing 🤣🤣 I can't believe other people joined in like this>

Nat giggles and says, "I don't know but it is a really nice color."

Steve calmly says, "It might not have been on purpose. Someone probably forgot a red shirt or something in the machine."

"No, this is definitely on purpose," he argues with Steve. "I'm going to find out who is doing this."

He grabs the basket and leaves the room angrily. Bucky doesn't watch him leave, he's too focused on Wanda winking at Nat.

Day 6

Sam sits at the far end of the large oval table in the conference room, fuming with his arms crossed.

Loki smiles wide as he takes a seat next to him. He leans close and asks, "What seems to be the trouble today?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Sam responds.

Loki doesn't give up and says, "I think you should share with the team, it might make you feel better. Besides, I'm sure we're all curious as to why you are so annoyed this morning."

Before he can reply, Fury walks into the briefing room. He slams the door shut, which gets everyone's attention at once. He stands in the front of the room, covered in glitter as he glares at Sam. "We need to talk Wilson," he tells him.

"I didn't..." he stands slowly. "You don't think I did that?"

"You left your ID badge on my desk," he holds it up by the lanyard. Sam looks at him in shock then pats his pants and jacket as if it will suddenly appear on his person.

Loki laughs so hard, he slaps the desk and says, "This is the best week I have had in decades. I don't think I've been this entertained since humans celebrated the first April Fools Day."

Sam looks at Loki and then back to Fury, "It has to be him. Do you really think I would be stupid enough to glitter bomb you and leave my ID badge?"

"I have already told you, I have not participated in your torment," Loki says. "I am merely enjoying it."

Thor adds, "Trust me, if it was my brother, he would not deny it."

"Fine, so it's not him but it's one of you," Sam looks around the room at the full table.

Fury stands unconvinced at the front of the room, his arms crossed against his chest. "You have until the end of the day to pick up every single piece of glitter," he tells Sam then he takes a seat at the head of the table to start the meeting.

Loki whispers to Sam, "I must admit, I'm really beginning to like whoever is doing this to you."

Sam rolls his eyes and says, "Oh this person you like? I thought you hated all 'humans'."

Loki corrects him, "I am generally indifferent towards your existence, that's not quite the same as hate."

"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or not," Sam says and Loki shrugs in response.

Day 7

Sam wanders into the kitchen in the morning, yawning from lack of sleep. He had stayed up most of the night trying to figure out who was behind all of the pranks. He assumed most of the team could have done the laundry prank or googly eyes but he didn't know anyone with the tech skills to pull off the other ones.

He stops short when he sees you and Bucky together, he stands behind you with his arms around your waist. You look up at him and kiss his cheek before you notice Sam.

Sam is confused and says, "Wait are you guys together? I thought you said you didn't talk to her..."

Bucky smirks and says, "Oh yeah, I guess I lied."

"How long..." you can see him trying to figure out if you had been together long enough to aid in his pranking.

You smile at his confusion and ask, "Wanna see something cool?" He shrugs, still processing your relationship. "Bucky told me the new toaster is voice activated."

"Oh shit," Sam slowly starts to realize what set off this whole chain reaction of pranks. "Bucky, it was just a joke. It's not actually voice activated, you know that right?"

You smile and say, "Oh, then how come this happens?" You push the button on your phone inside your pocket and say, "Toast." A few seconds later, two perfectly toasted pieces of bread pop out.

"What the hell?" Sam asks, you and Bucky laugh in response. He turns and walks back out of the kitchen, nearly walking right into Tony.

"Morning," Tony greets you both as he sets up his now fixed coffee maker. "I gotta say, I'm pretty impressed with you Y/N."

"With what?" you suddenly feel nervous.

He smiles and asks, "Did you really think you could get into all of my systems without me noticing?"

Bucky moves slightly in front of you and says, "Don't fire her, it's my fault. I asked her to help. We just wanted to get back at him a little."

Tony laughs, takes a sip of his coffee and says, "Oh, I'm not mad. I actually am very impressed by how well you got into every part of the towers tech, we should probably talk about a promotion into our security division."

You look at him speechless, you had always wanted to work in that department.

"Also," he adds, "I had that glitter bomb for almost a year and I couldn't figure out how set it off in Fury's office without getting blamed for it so thank you for the distraction."

"Um... you're welcome," you tell him with a laugh.

"Barnes, you're luck she is on your side," he says as he turns to leave. "She's absolutely terrifying."

Bucky pulls you closer, looks at you and says, "I know I'm lucky."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @yeehawbrothers

[thelionandtheeagle]

On the misconception of Jason attempting to take Tim's life at Titans Tower:

I've seen people be confused about this one, so I figured I'd provide some context/ analysis/ what have you, for anybody who might be interested.

Now, the incident we're talking about occurred in issue 29 of the 2003 Teen Titans book.

There is a lot that could be said about the whole issue, but in the interest of not having this post run on forever, let's just focus on the end to the actual physical altercation between Jason and Tim:

Jason warns Tim of the dangers associated with being Robin. He uses himself as a cautionary tale, making it clear that this isn't about envy; that Jason has no interest in being Robin again himself. That that's not what this is about.

Then he knocks Tim out.

Tim is unconscious for a while and Jason uses this opportunity to very dramatically put the word out there that, yep, he is indeed the real Jason Todd and he's ready to cause trouble.

When Tim comes to again, he is injured, yes, but okay overall. He isn't bleeding out on the floor, close to death. In fact, he's very much able to just sit up and have a normal conversation with people. All in all Tim is fine, and Jason has left.

And, well, that's that. At least from Tim's perspective.

The issue actually concludes with a really interesting page featuring Jason's narration:

Here we see Jason easily concede that Tim is good. No malice, no hate, no ill wishes towards him. And Tim is doing fine. Jason is shown to be in no way surprised that Tim is alive and well, back out in the field. Because he was never out to seriously injure Tim, let alone kill him.

Jason didn't want to take Tim's life at all. He had ample opportunity to do so, but he didn't. One of the reasons the whole confrontation went down the way it did, is because Jason was genuinely excited to meet Tim (see the intro narration of the issue). Aside from delivering the warning discussed above, Jason wanted to see for himself what Tim is capable of, what makes him tick. And he has no problem admitting that Tim is indeed good at what he does.

It's obviously an important incident in their lives, but Tim was never in any real danger here. Getting into brawls is nothing crazy at all in their line of work, and Tim has canonically acknowledged that he holds no ill will towards Jason over the whole thing, e.g. here in issue 8 of the 2011 Red Hood and the Outlaws book:

Summary/ conclusion: Does Jason feel guilty about things he's done to Tim in the past? Yes. Does Tim hold it against him? No. Was their fight at Titans Tower a murder attempt? Not at all.

Thanks for reading! I hope this helps clear some things up for anybody wondering (:

Bonus: Jason talking about Tim in Battle for the Cowl (2009) #2

[melodic-haze]

hi!! could I request ayaka nsfw headcanons? thanks!

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Ayaka x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Corruption kink, exhibition kink but it doesn't acc get acted upon 🤷‍♀️

☆ — NOTES: shut up omg another one I LOEV AYAKA THANK YOU

She seems like the type to be extremely vanilla at first, not bc she's scared (well no she is a lil bit) but bc she hasn't really? Had the chance to explore or anything??? But she seems like the type to be interested in it, just that she didn'r know HOW to explore it......until yk. You came along

She's like a willing subject to corruption, it's rather lovely 🫶

The way she'd approach you about it too 😭😭 like ohhh you're so precious my bbg :((( she'd breach the topic carefully, her cheeks tinted very red thanks to her skin betraying her and the blood that rushed to her face

Side track as much as I do adore Ayaka stumbling on her words and stuttering, I actually personally don't think she would unless she was EXTREMELY flustered or completely out of it. She's probably really good with forming sentences and stuff with very minimal stuttering, esp when she'd have to think ab her speech a lot to make sure she isn't offending anyone generally (I wish that were me cuz I stutter a LOT it's acc embarrassing)

So when she asks, she's VERY red but also very clear and concise with her speech. If it weren't for the embarrassed look on her face, if it weren't for her covering her face with her fan, you'd have thought that she wasn't shy about such an ask at all

It was hard to concentrate and gather your bearings at least a little bit when the soft scent of cookies and the mochi she had made a while ago never fails to overtake your train of thought, but you managed to pull through as you slowly undressed her.

"Are you completely sure?" You asked in concern for her, despite the fact that she had approached you about such a request, "I'm worried you might not like the experience. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable..."

She shook her head in reply, giving you a gentle smile, "I'm sure. I admit that I've been.. curious, and I trust you completely."

You couldn't help but soften at your white-haired partner's proclamation, giving her a lingering kiss on her temple, "Just remember to tell me if something feels wrong, you know I worry for you."

"I know," she giggled, "but you don't need to treat me like I'm fragile."

And before you reply in turn, Ayaka cuts you off by leaning her head on your shoulder, her lips close to your ear as she whispered in such a tantalising way--

"I'd like to think I can handle whatever you do to me."

--before drawing back with a much cheekier smile compared to moments before, "I hope that clears most of your reservations?"

By god, yes it does.

She turns out to be a FREAK❗️❗️❗️👹👹👹👹

No but fr though? I already wrote it but she def love love LOVEEEESSS being your good girl 🥰🥰🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 wants to do anything you ask her to do bc she wants to make you happy. Absolutely gets off to whenever you praise her for the stuff she does

But also? Kinda very much adores being roughed around!!! Being an important figure to Inazuma, she's not necessarily used to being treated anything less than with respect and caution, so for you to essentially make her forget all that as you "disrespect" her rank? Mmmmyes definitely Something :3

She's a very very curious person who's open to a LOT of things, going from binding to sensory deprivation to roleplay

Oh my GOD she'd ESPECIALLY be into roleplay; pretending as if she were someone else, esp if she was absolutely ravaged by you? My word it gets her wet just thinking about it

I think she'd LOVEEEE to be overstimmed 🫶🫶🫶 she wants a break from thinking!! She wants a break from responsibilities, and the way you can make it easily go away by fucking her brains out gets so addicting for this little princess

SHE'D DEFINITELY BE A SQUIRTER OH GY GOD fuck off listen she's def so so very sensitive that if you work her up enough (which doesn't acc take long) she would and she'd APOLOGISE for making such a mess but you just Cannot Help but try to get another one from her so it goes around alllll over again until she passes out :3

Don't think she'd act it out irl bc no way is she actually risking her reputation (and in extent, her brother's and her entire family name), but she'd develop?? A taste for exhibition???? Perhaps it's through the times you've just decided to drag her away to a semi-secluded spot, or maybe it's bc of the times she's touched herself while thinking of you with the risk of SOMEONE coming into her room. Either way, she starts to fantasize scenes from time to time where you're fucking her out in the open or you get caught or even that she's walking around with her pussy unknowingly stuffed with toys, who knows 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️���‍♀️

If she doesn't tell you then she probably clues you in unconsciously when you start talking to her about how ANYONE could find you absolutely ruining this whore of a princess 🫶 by her inner walls clamping onto you as she lets out a particularly loud whine 🫶🫶🫶

Ayaka had tried to go back to sleep, she really did. But her thoughts had caught up to her, hazy made-up images and scenarios of the simplest thought of getting caught doing things unbefitting the White Heron Princess and her demure, innocent stature.

Even as she had her fingers inside her needy hole, even as she grinded on her palm in a deaperate effort to chase that needed release, she had found that she couldn't be satisfied in the least. The fact that she had to silence herself in an effort to prevent herself from getting caught didn't help with sorting out her current issue, either.

It wasn't enough—she needed you to satisfy her, to put her in her place, to take her fully until she could no longer care to think about anything else but being your personal doll. There was no way she was getting off all by herself, she needed you.

Biting the fabric of her blanket in an effort to stop her teary moans from being as loud as it would've been, she could only hope any pray that this aching need within her subsides in time before she has the chance to see you again.

(And perhaps she'll gather the courage to ask you about recreating.. a very exposing scenario, to sate her torturous curiosities.)

Bonus bullet point it'd be really cute to see her cry from the stimulation 🥰🥰

[bellafragolina]

hi i've never requested anything from anyone ever before so here goes lmao 😭 uhh i've had this stupid little idea for like a week now: motostoke gym trainer reader calls kabu dad on accident. like goes to ask him something and just says "hey dad?" then gets embarrassed and walks away. "nevermind i figured it out myself" no you didn't you liar

uhhh yeah that's it here's payment🍪 cooky

cooky……..

🍓🍓🍓

You were the youngest on the team, that much was obvious. It was hard not to dote, but you would pout and huff and grumble about being treated like a kid, even though you were one. But you were also a gym leader, just like them, able to hold your own even again the more experienced trainers.

Kabu had no doubts you’d grow up into something fierce, even with a primarily fire type team. But he also worried.

It wasn’t as obvious, but you lived for the gym. Sure, you huffed and puffed at the affection and doting, but you never walked away from it.

Kabu knew you craved it, deep down. Despite trying to grow up fast, be independent, be more than what you lacked, he knew you desperately wanted family again. And here you were finding it.

But you’d die before admitting it. A child’s pride was something to be admired, for its steady determination not to break. At the time same time, however, Kabu wished you’d relax, let them take care of you.

You deserved to be a kid, void of weight of the world, if just for a little while. Kabu would hold up the sky for you, if only you’d let him.

But you didn’t. You were his little Atlas, strong and steady, at least on the outside.

For all your pronounced independence, you were still young and inexperienced. The world was still confusing and complicated despite your self sustaining abilities, and when you came to the team, they jumped to help you understand the forms of a gym leader, the conduct to have towards fans and reporters alike, how to deal with sore losers versus disheartened ones.

How to lean on someone when everything becomes too much too fast.

"Hey, um. . ." Your voice drew Kabu from his thoughts. He blinked, watching you shuffle around at the door of his office. "Uh. . ."

Kabu felt his heart grow warm as you struggled to find your words. 'Yes, firefly?"

You huffed. "Dad, do you-"

Your throat seemed to close around your words when Kabu's eyes widened. Everything froze, from his heart to your fidgeting. Kabu wondered, did he hear you right? Did you really see him that way?

"Never mind." You squeaked out before he could even smile. Seemed that flub stole all the air from your lungs. "I figured it out. Bye."

"Hold on!" Kabu called, but you were booking it. Kabu had to run to catch you before you disappeared off into the gym, but he managed to snag your arm before you even made it out of the office area. "Hey, hey-"

Kabu's own voice failed him when he saw your face. Your eyes were glassy, cracking with tears that dripped down your ruddy cheeks. Your shoulders jumped with gasps for air, but you were trying so hard to keep it contained that you were suffocating yourself.

Kabu pulled you into his chest, arms tight. "C'mon, firefly, breathe. Just breathe." You struggled to inhale, choking on a sob. "Shh, shh, you're okay-"

"M'not." You whined.

"Why? Cause you called me your dad?" The weak joke did not land, judging by your increased sobbing, so Kabu was quick to continue. "Everyone has done it, not just you." You buried your face in the crook of your arm to hide it. "And I am honored you think of me like a father."

That gave you pause. "Huh. . ?"

"You've been alone for so long." Kabu carefully brushed back your hair. His thumbs, so calloused and warm, stroked your cheek to clear the sticky tears. "Won't you lean on me?"

You leaned into him more. You were weighed down into his arms, but Kabu easily held you.

He'd hold you until it all felt a little lighter.

🍓🍓🍓

hope you like it!!!

~Renee

[soapoet]

W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Irma Lair; your gifts

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: John my beloved by Sufjan Stevens

you probably already know this, and have heard it time after time, but you're very sensitive. not in a bad way, except when it overwhelms you and drains all your energy, but you are insanely intuitive. you may struggle a lot with your faith in humanity. one day you're snuggled up in bed sobbing over compilations of human kindness, then the next you log on twitter and declare humanity irredeemable. and worst of all you feel so alone. it's frustrating feeling like those around you go through the motions of life seemingly unaffected by the constant eldrich horrors around every corner. you know that it's not that they don't care, but sometimes you might secretly wish you could have a sip of whatever it is that's numbing them down. finding supportive and understanding friends to surround yourself with is important to your well-being because harsh words and criticism can bruise you harder than most. this sensitivity may sometimes feel more like a burden than a gift, but i assure you that there's a lot of positives to it.

you are naturally inclined to do well with energy healing and may develop clairvoyance on top of your already prominent clairsentience, and quickly learn how to wield these abilities. your compassionate nature makes you a very good source of comfort and support for others and you're able to gently guide others in a way that isn't intrusive, so many would flock to you for advice if you opened up shop as an emotional support human of some kind. be sure to safeguard your own energy and do as much or as little as you want and can when you hone your skills should you decide to practice any kind of divination or spiritual practice. even outside of more spiritual things you'd make good use of your gifts in teaching, psychology, or medicine. you put people at ease and it's easy for others to get attached to your energy, and you just as easily get a little too invested from time to time, so be sure to keep your boundaries clear and take plenty of time for yourself to recharge and ground yourself.

02.

Shufflemancy: Brittle bones Nicky by Rare Americans

some call it chaos, you call it fun. you have a knack for entertaining a crowd. even if you're shy around people you don't know well enough, those closest to you know you best for your creative genius. you're an engaging communicator and storyteller, and have a lot of ideas swirling around your brain. you really should get some of it out before you get dizzy. you'd make a terrific writer, artist, a performer, or public speaker. yes, even if that last one made your stomach churn a little. you're very likeable and fun, and you'd draw a lot of attention if you just put yourself out there. lots of people could use your zest for life and learn a lot from the stories you could tell, whether real or fictional.

music, cinema, theatre, story driven games, and literature may be things you find a lot of joy in. you're inclined to develop clairaudience, and you may already notice auditory cues and coincidences more than most, and find a lot of guidance and motivation from the music you listen to or from your own inner monologues that lead to aha moments. are you afraid of the spotlight? not sure where to start? if what's stopping you from pursuing your wildest dreams is a jumbled mess of what ifs and lists of things you need to perfect and reconfigure and practice until your face turns blue, stop. you're already good at cartwheeling your way through life, talking yourself in and out of things and thinking on your feet, so you absolutely got what it takes to just go, and figure out the minute details along the way.

03.

Shufflemancy: Pavlov's daughter by Regina Spektor

people usually hire staff to do all that you're able to do all on your own. you're very well-rounded. a jack of all trades, perhaps? you're intelligent, practical, and very creative. you'd make a great entrepreneur because you're such a hardworker once you set your sight on something you want to achieve. you seem to have a deep trust in your own strength and abilities. you're emotionally strong and very independent. freedom is likely a big motivator for you, and being your own boss sounds very appealing to you. you're claircognizant and just seem to know what needs to be done and also get things done. you're an incredible taskmaster and do well with organising your thoughts and ideas and solving problems that pop up.

manifestations must come easily to you, unless your ties to the 3d and a distinct flair of realism and tendency to 'believe it when you see it' holds you back from having faith. but there is nothing you couldn't do, and those limitations should be easy enough for you to clear. i mean, look at everything you've already done and what you're capable of when you decide that what you want is what you get! make sure to rest plenty, though. you're often at risk of burnout because you strive when you have things to do and may have a hard time kicking back to relax when you could be spending that time doing something. even your hobbies align with your goals or fit right into your resume, so do try to find something to do that isn't so much about chasing accolades as it is simply enjoying yourself for the sake of pure enjoyment.

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Better Late Than Never - Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: Nikolai returns to unexpected events regarding his brother and his childhood best friend.

Content Warnings: Vasily. No Beta/Proof Reading.

So I figured I posted 10 Tolya ones, I'm going to post one for my husband, the love of my life, the man of my dreams, by darling bastard prince, Nikolai.

He hadn't changed. Not in the years he had been away. Nikolai still looked exactly the same. The same clever persona that he wore around those he built it for. The same balanced tone he had practiced for years before perfecting. That same damned smile that was far too mischievous to exist in this surrounding, these rooms filled with important people who barely knew how to do anything that mattered.

You had almost hoped that he would've changed, or he would've been different to what you remembered him being, because seeing him like this, the same as you remembered him, was the hardest thing you'd ever had to do. Your Nikolai, late to the party, in more ways than one.

Vasily was so quick to pull you over to greet him, all laughter and welcomes, you didn't get a chance to speak. Nikolai stared at you as his brother spoke, you guessed it was to do with the unnecessarily extravagant attire you were wearing which was very out of character, or why you were within any distance of Vasily by choice.

"Brother, I am guessing no one has told you the good news," Vasily's tone was joyful but in a calculated type of way that made Nikolai very nervous. He couldn't understand what you were doing here, he was glad to see you, but you had only ever been on the grounds because he had asked you to be, you had often said these walls felt too high and you felt trapped into a life you didn't need reminders of. So why were you here?

"We are short on good news these days, so please go ahead," Nikolai said trying to keep his eyes on his brother, stop them wandering back to you.

"Well, I am betrothed," Vasily gleamed, his gaze turned back to you and Nikolai suddenly understood with blinding clarity exactly why his brother was being so chipper. "Or should I say we we are betrothed?"

Nikolai didn't hear much of what Vasily has to say after that, he just gives small nods as his brother talks a while more, eyes continuously darted to you, trying to read the situation, you tried to avoid his gaze. You had missed Nikolai dearly, and in his absence so many things had spun out of control, you had done nothing but wish for his return, but now he had it filled you with a strange uncertainty, a fear you didn't recognize.

Finally Vasily was pulled away by a member of the court and for the first time, you were left alone with Nikolai. "I missed you Kolya," were the first words you could muster.

"He proposed," Nikolai met you with and you frowned. No niceties and cat and mouse with Nikolai, then again you shouldnt have been suprised, it was always like that with him. The Puppy Prince never expected you to play games with him, or so you'd always thought. But all his time away, you'd forgotten what such directness felt like. It would've been a relief, had the topic not been one of such burden.

"I wouldn't say proposed as such," you said lowering your voice, "it was more of a demand than a question."

"And you said yes?" Nikolai asked.

"I said nothing, I thought that be the safer option, safer than explaining how I dare turn down a prince," you explained.

"You'd be surprised how easily that comes to some," Nikolai gave you a grin, the type you remember from the years of back and forth with him, and for a moment you can forget where you are, and why, you can even forget the reason you're talking. But only for a moment.

"He took my silence as a yes, and I'm in no position to correct him," you raised your arms gently in a gesture to the whole room, "so here I am." The displeasure behind your perfectly practiced demeanour was clear to Nikolai now, as it always had been in all the years passed.

"This is not what you want," Nikolai said as if it could be a revelation of any kind and not some natural statement of fact.

"No Nikolai," you teased your voice dripping with the sarcasm that Nikolai himself was so fluent in, "I dream of nothing more than to be married to your boorish, pigheaded, wanton brother who sees me as not an equal or a companion or even a bride but as a simple toy to steal away from you. Please, let me be married faster."

In all their years of friendship, Vasily had envied Nikolai and you, the one thing that Vasily could not easily take and make his own. "Careful, love, that sounds treasonous," Nikolai says, the laughter in his voice but you sense the parts of him missing. The parts filled with concern for you.

"Please, charge me, and then I can be free of him, if only in death," you smiled, so forced, and Nikolai let the facade slip.

"You are truly so unhappy?" Nikolai asked.

"Can you imagine a world in which being with your brother could make me anything less than miserable?" You asked.

"I'm sorry," Nikolai managed, truly at a loss for what to do. "I know you never intended to marry."

This acknowledgement suprised you, not least of all because it wasn't true. "What do you mean?"

"Just that you had never once seemed interested in those who wished to court you, and if I remember there were plenty," Nikolai tried to brush it off but there was something else in his voice when he spoke. Jealousy?

"That had nothing to do with my desire to marry," you stated. "I wished to marry Nikolai. I wish still to marry. I just never was asked by someone whom I would want to be my husband. The men I would wish to marry, seemed to never care to ask."

Vasily beckoned you with a hand, and you sighed deep, knowing your limited time without him was quickly ending. But something you said struck Nikolai and you could see it on his face. You were marrying Vasily, and Nikolai would likely be returning to wherever he came from soon enough, and it would likely be another five years or so before you saw him again, if the war ever ended and the Darkling didn't slaughter you all. But maybe, being engaged to the prince was enough to make you hope for that outcome, a short marriage and impending death. The thought brought a chuckle to your lips even if it never made it out of your mouth.

What could go worse now? What damage was their truly left to do, so before you depart to your fiance across the room, you turn to Nikolai to speak again. "I had dreamt of becoming a Lantsov for a very long time, Kolya," you admitted to him, "but I never once as much as entertained the thought I could be marrying your brother."

Nikolai is left in what you might believe to be the only moment you've found him without words to say as you made your way to return to your husband-to-be's side.

Nikolai watched you go, beyond lost. In all these years, he had assumed all your back and forth, all the flirtation, it was a pastime for you. That you wore charm like he did, as an armour. He had always believed your fluttered eyelashes and your gentle dalliance and teasing were not based in anything real. He had dared not to think of it, because as much as a prince may get used to hearing 'yes.' He was only the second prince, and a bastard at that if the rumours were to be believed. Anything he could want his brother could easily take from him, and would. So he had never let himself wonder. If your feelings had been genuine he wanted them to be for him and not his title or his lineage or his prospects. And they had. They always had and he had not seen it.

And now Vasily had done what Nikolai had feared regardless, seeing through the forest and the trees to what was so obvious that he had not considered it.

You.

You who now stood, unable to alter your position and overwhelmingly desperate to be anywhere but where you are, besides his brother.

There is nothing in that moment Nikolai would not do to fix it.

He must fix it.

Update: Part 2

[narumi-gens]

Never Felt a Feeling Like This

Narumi Gen x f!Reader

summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)

notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.

words: 6.3k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 

All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 

The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 

With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 

Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 

“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 

But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.

“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”

Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.

“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 

He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 

Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?

But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.

You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 

It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 

Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.

You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 

“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”

But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 

“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 

You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 

Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.

The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 

Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 

There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 

The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”

With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.

You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 

But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 

You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 

When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 

“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”

“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 

“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 

However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 

His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 

The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 

Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 

The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.

His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 

Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 

With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.

He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.

And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 

His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.

What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 

Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 

It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.

He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.

It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 

He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 

“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 

Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.

You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 

The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 

His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 

He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 

And he also notices that it twitched upward. 

For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.

However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 

His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 

Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 

Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.

All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.

What would you look like in just your lab coat?

His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 

And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 

The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 

You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 

Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 

When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 

“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.

His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.

“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 

You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.

“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 

“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.

“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”

Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 

“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”

He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 

You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.

There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 

A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.

Simple as that.

Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.

Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.

“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 

As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.

He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 

But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.

He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.

The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.

“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 

“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.

“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 

Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  

“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 

But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 

“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 

Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 

“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 

Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 

“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!

Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.

He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.

He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.

He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 

As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 

With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 

But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.

His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.

From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏

He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis

He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 

From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪

He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱

Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.

From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 

From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏

From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️

From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫

His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝

It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏

He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 

The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 

Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 

Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 

His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 

He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 

When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 

Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 

What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.

And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 

Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?

He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 

He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  

After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 

He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.

He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 

He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 

And you would, wouldn’t you?

Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 

You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 

And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 

Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 

His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 

As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 

His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 

He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 

However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 

His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 

When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.

After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.

“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.

[martitheevans]

So I made this post and people seemed to like it so I did a little bit of a drabble thing for it. It's nothing much I just thought it'd make a cute little vignette

(Not really set in any particular episode, probably about Season four or five)

The Impala began to drift towards the centre line on the road for what had to be the fifth time in since they began driving, Sam sighed and clicked his fingers in front of Dean’s face. His eyes flew open and he swerved the car back on track. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled and turned up the barely audible tape in the deck. “Nodded off.” 

“Just pull over, man,” Sam suggested, too tired to drive himself. “It’s late, nobody’s going to find us. We’ll be fine.” 

“There’s gotta be a town soon. Get the map out,” Dean replied, Sam wasn’t entirely sure he’d even listened to his suggestion. “A motel. I don’t know about you, but I could go for a slightly warm soda from a vending machine right now.”

“Dean,” Sam insisted. “Stop the car.” 

“Stop your face,” Dean retorted, sighing dramatically. 

“Look,” Sam pointed over to a wooded area that was cleared up for hikers and families, complete with a car park. “Park there. We can sleep.” 

“It’s always nag, nag, nag, with you,” Dean commented and tutted, but he began to turn into the parking lot. “Yes, honey, I'll pull in right here, is that alright?” 

Sam tsked at him and they pulled in. Dean announced their arrival by braking abruptly, making Sam nearly headbutt the dashboard. He looked proud of himself then got out. Sam glared at him as he went. 

“You sleeping in the front or the back?” he asked.

“I’ve been too tall for the back since I was fifteen,” he replied. Dean opened the boot of the car for the blankets the kept for times like these. “But you, on the other hand, are just the right size for it. Hell, we could put you in the glove compartment.” 

“I'm not even that short-!” 

“Where’s the other blanket?” Sam interrupted when Dean pulled out one old, polyester blanket. Dean narrowed his eyes and searched around some more, then sighed. 

“Remember when we had to camp overnight for those vampires?” he asked, Sam groaned. “And somebody had to put out the campfire with it because they set the fire up somewhere it would easily spread-” 

“And that was nothing to do with the fact that someone had the genius idea to throw ‘just a little bit’ of gasoline on it because it ‘wasn’t lighting fast enough’ for them?” Sam retorted. “Nobody does that, Dean! That’s insane! You nearly lit the whole place up!” 

“Look, the point is,” Dean began waving him off. “We have one blanket and two of us.” 

They glared at each other for a seconds, before silently agreeing to a rock/paper/scissors battle. After a tense few seconds, Sam used rock, Dean used scissors. 

“Always scissors,” Sam jeered. Dean glared and shook his head. 

“Best of three,” he suggested. Sam sighed but obliged him. Rock, paper, scissors, shoot. Dean used paper, Sam used scissors. 

“And whenever I point it out you always switch to paper,” he continued. Dean groaned, they needed to figure out other ways to figure out stalemates than a game which is impossible to play with people you know too well. 

“I hope it’s filled with bedbugs,” Dean grunted, tossing the blanket at Sam’s face and closing the boot. The chill in the air already starting to get at him, no doubt beginning to have its affect in the car. 

He climbed into the car and curled in on himself in the backseat, keeping his jeans on, as uncomfortable as they were, to stave off the cold. He wished Sam night, and tried to get to sleep before the temperature fully set in. 

Even as his mind began to fall asleep, he was still aware it was getting fucking cold. He was shivering and his sleep was far from sound. Why was it so damn wintery in May anyway? 

Cas appeared in the car, which was stationary in a parking lot outside of a forest. He looked around in the dark for who he had come to see, spotting Sam first. He was stretched out as much as the footwell would allow him in the passenger seat. Dean was lay to Cas’s side, with his head pillowed on Sam’s empty, rolled-up canvas bag. 

Human sleep cycles were a mystery to Castiel, they seemed to waste so much time with it, or maybe it was just the Winchester’s that were so peculiar. Rarely they were ever asleep when it seemed to be the ‘appropriate’ time of day to do so. 

Something he did know was that when you wake a human, they become slightly hostile. So, he quickly decided that whatever he had come to tell them could wait, it wasn’t very time sensitive. Plus, he had been watching over Dean periodically since he had last seen him, he had to have been exhausted. 

He was about to leave when he cast a cursory checking glance at Dean and noticed his shaking form. He wasn’t awake, but he was cold, a sensation Cas had never felt but understood as unideal for sleeping conditions. Castiel couldn’t just leave him like that. 

Quietly, he shouldered off his trench coat, hoping it would be enough to keep him warm. He placed his over him, tucking it around him with the utmost gentleness so as not to disturb him. Dean seemed to almost immediately become more comfortable in it.  

Cas decided he quite liked the sleeping version of Dean, not any more than the awake version. It was pleasant to see him uninhibited by the literal weight of the world on his shoulders and lacking in the bite and sharpness that seemed etched into his sense of self. He was calm, and Cas liked seeing him calm. 

Then, he composed himself. Dean Winchester was an enigma to him. but he ought to remain that way. If being an angel as long as he had been had taught him anything, it was that resisting temptation was often the best route to take. He needed to remain professional if he wanted to keep his place. 

He left Dean wrapped in his coat, resolving to get it back the next day when the two brothers were awake, and disappeared. He didn’t stay around for the next morning, when Dean found himself strangely comforted by Cas leaving his coat to keep him warm. The feeling welling up something warm in his heart he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

[dolliedarlin]

UPTOWN GIRL ⏤SHINICHIRO S. 

SUM. : when a rich girl meets a mechanic after her new motorbike breaks down, a match made in heaven commences 

LENGTH : 10.7K

G. : mechanic shinichiro x rich girl reader, ; uptown girl inspired fic ; princess and pauper type vibes ; fluff ; some angst ; nobody dies ; modern social status ; yn is rich af ; shinichiro is a humble bike mechanic ; it’s a match made in heaven ; fight me if you dare ; sano siblings want yn as an older sister ; the parents aren’t shit for once 

A/N : this has been in the works for quite a while and is the full version of my shinichiro x rich girl reader timestamp  04:40. it’s quite a long fic i’m sorry, if you need to take a break in between, feel free XD, i did go a little bit overboard here. it took me a while to find the perfect title for this fic and when i realised it resembled a scenario from a particular music video, i just had to title it similarly. for those who know, you know ;)  

You’re no stranger to the privilege you had being born into such an affluent family; you didn’t need to worry about anything because you had everything you could ever want and more. However, that didn’t mean that you grew up entirely content; the difference in your status compared to many of your school mates was apparent and you easily became ostracised. No one wanted to befriend you as they were too afraid of offending you and getting in trouble whereas those that did befriend you made their greedy intentions very clear. 

Understanding your struggle and supporting your decision to live a normal life, your family drew you away from the public eye but still kept you in the circle of luxury and comfort their high social status permitted. You tried to lead an ordinary life but no matter your efforts, because of the blood in your veins, you were naturally gifted and still stood out. 

Incredibly studious (your father’s influence), talented in sports and martial arts (your brother’s shared hobby with you) and ethereally beautiful with a heart of gold (your mother’s teachings). It wasn’t just the social divide that excluded you, it was also the positive influence of your family that nurtured your talents and demeanour, it’s by their virtues that you shone despite your desire for an ordinary life. 

Truly, if you were asked, you would swear that your only saving grace was your family; they cared for and wished only the best for you. You will be forever grateful to them but there was just one substantial problem…

”Mommy, Daddy,” you spoke softly but sternly, setting down your cutlery so as to emphasise your unwavering stare, “please don’t talk about that when I’m trying to eat,”

”Mommy, Daddy,” you spoke softly but sternly, setting down your cutlery so as to emphasise your unwavering stare, “please don’t talk about that when I’m trying to eat,”

”Darling, please try to understand, we’re only a little curious,” you mother excused, pulling an apologetic smile as your father concurred.

”Onii-san should be enough to satisfy your curiosity, he’s going to be proposing soon,” you huff with puffed out cheeks and your father has to resist the urge to reach over and pinch at them, remembering how soft and pudgy they were when you were still a baby.

”Yes but we want two sets of grandchildren,” your father whines, childishly as you try to contain yourself. This is a side to him only you, your family and the (L/N) estate maids, butlers and staff were able to witness; outside the estate, he was a stoic and cool figure that was level headed but charming.

”We want 12 grandchildren, after all,” your mother gushes, unable to contain her excitement, “six from you and six from your brother. If there’s no chance of you having any children then your poor brother and Yui-chan will have to shoulder that responsibility all by themselves,” you hear your brother choke on his calamari, it almost makes you giggle if it weren’t for your mother’s follow up statement, “why don’t we help try and find a good man to court you?”

“Mommy, please!” clear agitation shows in the furrowing of your brows.

You hate these confrontations the most as they bring to light one of the main reasons you’re so envious of your brother. He was able to meet such a lovely girl during his middle school years, someone who doesn’t care about his status or money, she purely loves him for him - it’s magical that they found each other so early on in their youth.

If only you were as lucky but alas, you possessed no good fortune. 

Every time you think you’ve found your forever in someone, they always end up secretly coveting your wealth and social status. Either you tell them who you really are and then they have to sign an NDA or they will gauge your un-calculated wealth simply from your expensive car, fashion and perfumes - to them that was enough to cling onto you. 

”Third time’s the charm?” your brother attempts to lighten the mood and, although you appreciate the sentiment, the air had already grown too claustrophobic for you to continue to bear.

”I’ve lost my appetite,” you slide out of your chair and stand. Sensing the rising panic in your family despite avoiding their eyes, you quickly reassure them, “don’t worry, I just want to go for a ride,” you take the time to give them each a kiss goodbye on the cheek before leaving with a tightlipped smile. Your family were hesitant but respectful and chose to stay and continue with lunch after watching you leave. They silently hope to make amends once you’ve had the time to cool your head.

At the garage, you see your sweet new ride, a black honda CBR1k Triple-R Fireblade SP. The latest superbike on the market, unbeatable for its cutting edge design and exceeding speeds of 186mph. Just looking at it has your heart racing for something else, already taking your mind off of the troubling confrontation you had over lunch.

A long ride around Tokyo is just what you need to help cool your head. Dressing up in your Louis Vuitton black leather pants and matching leather jacket, your vintage Chanel, rib knit crop top and Doc Martens combat boots, you were ready to ride.

Without a destination in mind and adrenaline in your veins, you’re unable to calculate how much time you’ve spent on the road. Had you not lost yourself in the rush, you would have been able to make better sense of your sudden stop at an unfamiliar road.

”Wh-what?” you exclaim, frustration and sudden panic clouding your judgment as you wheel your bike to the side of the road and begin to inspect it. It was a lost cause, however, as you knew nothing about motorbike anatomy. It’s brand new, how can it have problems already? Exasperated, you frantically look around and spot the perfect place for your bike.

S.S motors. If its name and display of bikes is any indication, then it must be a bike shop that can help you.

Feeling a little more optimistic, you carefully wheel your bike over, avoiding traffic and wishing that the problem isn’t too serious. You park your bike outside the garage doors at the side of the store and enter through the main entrance. Following the metallic noise of tweaking, screwing and banging, you soon find yourself at the doorway of the garage attached to the shop.

”Umm, excuse me,” you voice up to the only person working on the engine of a motorbike, “I need some help please,”

On cue, the black-haired man turns to you as he wipes his hands clean on an already stained towel. You didn’t notice it earlier but he had been smoking a cigarette and blew out a final puff before sending a lazy smile your way with his cigarette laced elegantly between his long, dexterous fingers. He’s nothing like the other guys you’ve been introduced to by your parents. Instead of being in a custom-tailored Armani suit and Gucci tie, he’s in a loose and stained white shirt, the evidence of laborious work seen in his muscular arms and dirtied fingers. His soft, black hair isn’t styled in any way and simply falls down to frame his face naturally. His beauty is only elevated by the slope of his sweet eyes. He looks kind and very handsome. Your heart is going crazy for him in your chest - is this what it feels like to be infatuated by someone? Or are you just going crazy? 

”Sure thing, what do you need?” he asks, oblivious to the heat rising in your cheeks. His voice is also very attractive, deep and baritone, smooth like silk but with an edge that tickles your ears with a timid heat. 

”M-my bike suddenly broke down, I’ve parked just outside your garage,”

He nods and steps up to some switches and buttons on the wall, with a quick press, the garage door pulls up, “I’ll happily take a look for you,” he gives you another reassuring smile, which you bashfully return before fixing your gaze onto the ground. How can he have such an effect on you? You barely know the guy! 

A whistle brings your head up and you watch as he awes at your motorbike, “Is that your ride?” you nod with an incandescent heat in your cheeks and almost squeak at the wide grin he pulls, “I never thought I’d see the new CBR1k Triple-R SP so quickly, didn’t it just release yesterday?”

“I had it pre-ordered…”

‘Is there such a thing?’ Shinichiro ponders thoughtfully. This is the first time he’s ever heard of someone pre-ordering such a highly anticipated superbike. He raises a brow at you but decides not to push for answers, it’s not his job to question customers, he just needs to fix up their bikes.

“Alright, well, while I take a look at your sweet ride, you can sit around in the waiting area back in the shop. I’ll try to be quick,”

“Can’t I stay here?” you blurt out without much thought, almost slapping yourself for being so straightforward. This is very unlike you. He must have you in some sort of spell and he probably thinks you’re some desperate teenage girl, who goes goo-goo, gaa-gaa over boys.

He blinks with surprise but quickly eases back into a soothing smile once more, “I don’t see why not, pull up that stool over there,” he points to a short, foldable stool as you happily go about taking a seat off to his side. No words are exchanged as you stare at him get on with his usual checks. You want to know his name. You want to know his favourite food, his favourite movie, what he does for fun, why he decided to set up a motorcycle shop. You want to ask him everything but know there’s a line you should never cross with a stranger you’ve just met, no matter how handsome he is. 

Are you smitten right now?…The simple answer is yes, yes you are. 

It’s very new to you but you could do nothing except continue staring at the eye-candy working hard away at your bike. Usually, most of the guys you’re around are sporting glasses of expensive wines, labouring over paperwork or surveying a conference. They bore you. Being able to see a man get his hands dirty and exhibit skills outside of talking with command or indulging in riches was so so…

“It looks like you just ran out of gas,” Shinichiro chuckled after stepping away from the vehicle, “Don’t worry, I did all the other checks just in case there was something else wrong but other than having no fuel, you’re good to go!”

“Oh…” your face immediately heats up, “I…I guess I just panicked,” the two of you share a laugh, yours more so a giggle from the embarrassment, whereas his was a chuckle of amusement. You’re pretty cute. 

”It’s alright, are you new to motorcycles?”

“Kinda…” you fiddle with your fingers nervously, it’s a childish habit you’ve sustained but the mechanic before you thinks otherwise, “I’ve always wanted one and now that I have one, I love it so much,”

“That’s good, keep taking care of it,” he finishes as he hands over your keys.

”U-umm! How much do I owe you?”

He shrugs, “It’s alright, there’s no need for payment, it was an easy fix and I’m just happy I got to serve such a pretty lady,” he gives you a flirtatious wink, following it up with a laugh at your flustered expression.

”What about the fuel?” you babble in disbelief. This handsome stranger can’t be kind too, that’s too much for your heart to take! “Pl-please let me pay you back, can I at least get you some lunch?”

“There’s really no need,” he smiles softly, his eyes warm and kind. You can’t look away.

“Oh, okay…”

He can see the hesitation in your face. From your attire, you look like a person who has better things to do than waste time in his humble motor repair shop but you aren’t wanting to leave, it appears.

”Is something wrong?”

“Umm…it’s just disagreements at home…” you confess, hugging yourself for comfort. Now that the adrenaline is gone, you realise that you can’t run away forever; you still need to face your parents again but you’re not ready for that yet. Knowing them, they’ll try to push for you to meet someone and you don’t want that - you’re not ready for that.

“Sometimes, it’s better to let it out than keep it all inside and if its to a stranger, chances are, you probably aren’t ever gonna see me again, so…”

He’s offering you his time and a listening ear, which you deeply appreciate and, although you start off hesitant, you ultimately take him up on his offer. The two of you sit down first before you unload everything. His expression doesn’t change, he just listens to you, nodding along to some of your statements and giving you the occasional pat on the back whenever you seem to get a little too emotional. When it’s finally over, you feel as though you can breathe again, leaning into his shoulder from how weightless and relaxed you finally feel. It’s amazing. 

“All better?”

“Yeah…” you smile up at him, “thank you so much,”

”No worries,” he smiles at you once again as the heat in your cheeks reappears from the proximity of your faces, “But I recommend you talk to your parents, it seems as though they really care for you,” you recoil from him, embodying your protest over his suggestion. 

“But-!”

“Trust me, I may not have known you for long but from what you’ve said, they love you more than you may think. And besides, you’ll have to face them again sooner or later; why not now?”

“Alright…I’m trusting you,” he nods and sends you on your way. Ironic how you put such trust in a stranger. 

Hopefully he won’t be a simple stranger for long…

“Drive safe!” he warns carefully as he waves you off, eyes remaining on you even when you’re finally out of view.

 ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  ───

 He was right…Who knew? 

But you were grateful.

Following his advice, you talked things out with your parents and like the understanding, compassionate people they were (especially for their children), they told you that “what matters most is your happiness,”.

A week passes and you can’t get that handsome, consoling bike mechanic out of your mind. You have to meet him again. And, this time, not forget to ask for his name!

So here you are, facing your beloved new black Honda CBR1k Triple-R Fireblade SP with one of your father’s old golf clubs gripped tightly in both hands but from the accumulation of sweat in your palms, the slender body of the club continually attempts to slip away from your hold. You’re nervous. 

Is this a good idea? 

You really want to meet him again but you can’t just show up with…nothing…that’ll be too awkward!

No! Sacrifices have to be made! 

Raising the club in your hands, you’re about to hammer down when you’re halted by the sound of the garage door opening and the heels of your mum walking in only to stop when she sees you. After a moment of tense silence, she makes her way over, lowers your raised arms, sets aside the golf club and brings you into a warm embrace.

“Dear, I hope you know that mommy loves you with all her heart and, whether you are going through something or not, you can always come to me, okay?”

Nodding with your lips trembling in humiliation, you see your hesitant and troubled mother off before facing your bike once more. You aren’t ‘going through’ anything! You just want to see him again! This is a necessary sacrifice! 

BANG! BANG! CLANK!

“Uhhh…Damn. Huh!…” Shinichiro laughs humourlessly at the state of your bike, “It looks like someone tried to beat the hell out of your bike but didn’t know where to properly aim the strikes so you’re pretty lucky that there aren’t any serious damages,”

“Y-yup! Lucky me…” you sweat nervously, avoiding his beguiling eyes.

He hit the nail on the head and he knows it, if the devious smirk he tried to hide when turning away from you was any indication. He thought you were interesting before but you’ve caught his full attention now.

You’ve got to be the cutest girl he’s ever met.

 ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  ───

 It doesn’t take more than a week to have your bike be sparkling new again but you keep visiting Shinichiro’s motor shop regardless, smiling happily and never shying away from opportunities to be close to him or be of help. 

You frequent his shop so often, you’ve gotten into bringing your uni work with you to pass the time productively. Shinichiro can’t always be around you, he had to tend to other buying customers and work on bike repairs as well so you needed to earn your keep of stay around him by not getting in his way.

Seeing him working away on bikes in his usual, casual attire is a double edged sword. Even though the sight motivated you to work hard on your assignments, it was also a cause for many of your distractions. Does he know how sexy his back looks? Through the thin fabric of his white shirt, you can see the muscles of his back flex and contract as he toils away at a screw or a particular part of any bike he was working on. And because he’s using his arms and upper body so much his shoulders are really broad while his waist remains relatively slender, it makes you want to wrap your arms around him and squeeze tightly. You’re so smitten that you think the curls of his hair brushing up against the back of his pale neck was cute too. 

He must know how besotted you are by now…right? 

“She’s staring at you again,” Wakasa alerts, helping his friend out with retrieving the appropriate tools for the right parts. 

“Is she now?” the former delinquent commander muses, unable to stop the smile from curling up the edges of his lips. He continues with his current repair work as if he didn’t have the reputation of the guy who was rejected 20 times and now finally has a chance with someone, who was way out of his league. 

“You aren’t going to say anything?” his friend raises a brow at his unusual behaviour. 

“Can you pass me the flat-head screw driver, please?”

Wakasa does so and sighs in sympathy, his eyes tracing over your lovestruck expression, “it’s a shame, really…she has the worst timing,” Shinichiro laughs at the truth of his friend’s statement. If it was a few months ago, he would have been over the moon to know that such a cute and sweet girl openly liked him but after introducing Izana to Mikey and Emma, he was more focused on helping his younger siblings get along and managing his bike shop than romance, “you really aren’t going to do anything?”

Shinichiro avoids the question, choosing instead to look closer at the engine of the bike he was working on. It’s not as if he dislikes you, in fact, he thinks you’re adorable and definitely someone he would mutually pin for but that was the problem. He swore to prioritise his family over anything else and so doesn’t know how to answer the question himself; silence, was his best response.

“Well…if you’re not going to step up, I’m not letting such a cute girl pass,” Wakasa barely rises from his perch before Shinichiro is already standing firmly before him with an unwavering stare. 

“I think I’m done with this bike, can you bring in the next bike scheduled for a repair? I’m gonna ask (Y/N) to leave and go for a smoke,” 

“Whatever you say, commander,” Wakasa chuckles and gets to work with a hidden smirk of triumph. Too easy. 

 “(Y/N),” Shinichiro calls as he approaches you, the hand in his pocket searching for something.

“Shin!” you perk up with a bright smile, the man raising a brow at the sudden nickname you address him with but doesn’t object; it’s a cute nickname that only you are allowed to call him from now on, “are you finished? Do you want to grab lunch together?”

“Actually,” Shinichiro rubs the back of his neck as he brings out his cigarettes and lighter, “why don’t you go and grab some lunch for yourself? I still have a lot of work to do and I don’t want to keep you cooped up and bored with no one to talk to here,” it’s the truth, he feels guilty seeing you sit so prettily through the open door of his back office into the garage - it’s the best location for wifi but the space is claustrophobic and in constant disarray, he’s ashamed you’re always in it but he can’t offer anything better, location wise, in his shop. He’s sure you have better places to be than his plebeian bike repair shop, he can’t even converse with you to the point where you bring work to do in between the short exchanges you two infrequently have. 

“Put those away, Shinichiro,” before the mechanic could realise what you were even referring to, your hand brushes up against his as you take away his cigarettes and lighter. 

“What the-” his brows begin to cross at your actions but you’re two steps ahead of him. 

“Don’t worry, I have a replacement for you,” you smile brightly dumping his cigarettes into your bag, ready to throw them away later, and pull out a lollipop with a crinkling of plastic, “I’ll even unwrap it for you, here,” Shinichiro stands bewildered as Wakasa tries to hide his laughter from behind him. He stares down at you unwrapping a lollipop before reaching up and feeding it to him, “there you go! Do you like it? It’s my favourite flavour,” you chirp with the most innocent smile. 

“Umm,” the taller male softly ponders aloud as you wait in anticipation for his opinion, “it’s not bad but I prefer my cigarettes,” he raises his hand to reach for your bag. 

“What do you mean? It’s my favourite flavour and that’s the best one!” you huff, reaching up to grab the stick of the lollipop, “I did give you my favourite flavour, right?” pulling the sweet from between his lips, not a second passes before you have a taste to check the flavour yourself, “it’s the right flavour, why don’t you like it?” you almost whine, holding back your nerves as you stare at the mechanic’s flustered expression and red-tipped ears. 

“U-uhhh…”

“Shin?”

“Sorry!” he shakes his head in a poor attempt to dissolve his surprise and suddenly feverish state, “I like it…yeah, thank you,” 

“You’re welcome!” with a giggle, you feed him back the same lollipop and gather up your things. A crawling heat resonates from your wildly hammering heart, defeating your ears and fogging up your mind as you try to walk off your seductress behaviour, “I’ll go and buy us some lunch, I’ll grab some for you too Wakasa! ‘Be back as soon! I hope you guys like Italian!” without another word, you rush out the door with your bag and are soon out of sight. 

“Woah! Usually you’re the one pulling the moves,” Wakasa laughs out loud as he throws his arm across his frozen friend’s shoulders, “looks like your girl got too impatient and started pulling the moves on you, instead!” the delinquent was about to laugh even more when he realised the absence of breath coming from his friend, “Shinichiro?…HEY! BREATHE!”

 ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  ───

 With how often you frequent Shinichiro’s shop, not only have you been able to meet his close friends but now his siblings too.

“Are you Shinichiro-niisan’s girlfriend?”

“She can’t be! She’s too pretty, Emma,” Mikey scoffs in a matter-of-fact tone with his arms crossed. The two youngest siblings begin to bicker as an older, silver-haired boy stands off to the side with observing eyes disguised behind a deep frown. This makes you giggle as the mechanic beside you flushes an adorable pink and snaps at his siblings. 

“Oi!”

“Do you always get brutally slandered like this, Shin?” you pull a mocking, sympathetic face. 

“Unfortunately…” laughing at his admittance, you step forward and make a formal introduction. 

“No, I’m not Shinichiro’s girlfriend but I am a friend. My name’s (Y/N), it’s so nice to finally meet you cuties,” you give them a close-eyed smile but tilt your head at their lack of response and don’t know how to comprehend their blushing cheeks or wide-eyed stare focused solely on you, “Ummm…is something wrong?” 

“Sibling Meeting!” Emma announces out of nowhere and the three practically stampede away to the back office with Shinichiro in their clutches, leaving you in the garage with a bewildered look. 

‘That was…strange’, you think to yourself but shrug it off with a chuckle and head out when you notice the time.

After confirming that the door to the office was firmly shut, the three younger siblings corner the eldest Sano. 

“What do the three of you want with me now?” Shinichiro chuckles nervously, his temple beginning to break out into a nervous sweat.

“She’s not your girlfriend, right?” Emma asks with an judgemental look in her eyes. 

“Well, no-”

“Try harder to make her your girlfriend then!” Mikey demands. 

'What?-‘ Shinichiro mentally stutters in shock. Do they like you that much after a simple ‘hello’? The older Sano doesn’t know whether or not he should be happy that they like you or concerned that they seem to like you more than him.  

Izana nods along, surprisingly agreeing with his younger siblings for once, “yeah, we need an older sister to take care of us!” 

“I’m sorry Shin-nii but you’re not enough,” Emma justifies. 

“So you need to promise to steal her away before anybody else can! You need to do it for us, not just for you! So don’t be selfish; make her your girlfriend and our onee-san quickly!” Mikey juts in. 

“Don’t screw this up! We need an older sister!” Izana finishes and without another word, the trio turn their backs to their mechanic older brother and move to the garage only to gasp in horror. 

“Look! She already left! Shin you stupid bum, it’s all your fault!” Emma wails, unexpected tears welling up in her eyes, which immediately had her two older brothers kneeling at her side, offering comfort while occasionally throwing Shinichiro a dirty look as if he committed the most heinous crime before them. 

“Why do I feel like I’m the one at fault here?” Shinichiro sobs pitifully in a poor attempt to gain their sympathy but is only met with two cold stares as his youngest sister continues to sniffle at your absence. ‘What did you do to my siblings, (Y/N)? They’ve gone insane…’

“Oh no! what happened?” your angelic voice cuts through the garage like a ray of sunlight illuminating a dismal forest’s opaque shadow. There, you appear with the sunlight behind you to create a halo of light around your beautiful silhouette, the pretty picture of an angelic being, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you ask softly, approaching the trio who stand frozen, once again, at your presence. They sounded so confident talking about you before but looking at their awestruck looks now, Shinichiro has to hold back an amused chuckle, “Did someone bully, Emma?” you continue with your soft voice, reaching out to caress her pudgy cheek as you kneel down to be at eye level with her. 

“N-no…”

“Then what’s making you cry, cutie?” in an attempt to hide her flustered cheeks, the youngest Sano moves forward to tuck her face into your neck as you instinctively move to hug her close, “Awww~ there, there, you’re okay,” 

The two boys beside her have the same immature thought. It’s silly but their eyes begin to water too. They haven’t been able to experience such a tender touch from from a motherly figure in so long and seeing Emma be coddled so lovingly by you makes them incredibly jealous. 

“Come here, boys,” you open your arms and the two boys immediately take the opportunity to cuddle close to you too. They breathe in your refreshingly floral and sweet scent before sighing in content. Having an older sister is entirely different to having an older brother, it’s like the difference between heaven and earth, the elite and sub-par. Indescribable happiness and comfort fill all of their chests as they nuzzle all the more closer to you, almost swamping your kneeling figure but you don’t mind; you’ve always wanted younger siblings and you adore the little ones being so cuddly despite only just meeting them briefly. “Don’t tell me Shinichiro bullied you,” you give said mechanic a teasing glare, “if he did, you tell me and I’ll beat him up for you,”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Shush your mouth, I’m not gonna listen to you, the kids are more important,” you proceed to coddle and treat the three young Sanos with the utmost care and love, unknowing of the cheeky grins they throw their eldest brother behind your back. It’s as if they had won something over him…and Shinichiro can’t argue with the truth; seeing you be so loving to his siblings makes his heart swell unusually large, it’s so unlike any of the 20 girls he’s been infatuated with and tried to ask out before. None of them had ever met or interacted with his siblings like you, he wonders why he ever liked them in the first place. He can only guess that it was all shallow infatuation based on appearance because you have all that and more - they couldn’t even attempt to outshine your lustrous glow. 

 ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  ───

 “Am I running a kindergarten or?…” Shinichiro asks himself, smiling fondly at the chaos before him despite his disapproving statement.

“They’re a spritely bunch, aren’t they?” You muse from beside him, the two of you making eye contact and giggling. After meeting the younger Sanos, they insist on introducing you to their friends as well. There was Senju and Haruchiyo (Takeiomi’s younger siblings), Kakucho (Izana’s best friend) and Draken, Baji and Kazutora (Mikey’s friends). Not only that but you were also able to meet Inupi, a young boy who looks up to Shinichiro and acts like his apprentice. They make a raucous bunch but you couldn’t help but grow a fondness for them. 

“You think you can handle them while I work on that new bike with Inupi?” Shinichiro asks, pulling the blonde boy to his side, prompting you to reach out and comb your fingers through the young boy’s hair. 

Nodding, you smile and lean forward as your hand lovingly sweeps down to caress his supple cheek, “make sure he does a good job, okay, Inupi?” Inupi nods with a soft blush on his cheeks and drags Shinichiro away by the hand to escape your effect on him. He loves and looks up to Shinichiro and had been quick to adore you as well. 

“Baji, no fair!” a cry draws your attention away from the retreating mechanic duo to witness the friendly brawl between Baji and Kazutora, “I don’t know martial arts like you and Mikey, go easy on me!”

“You need to toughen up and I’m just trying to help you!” the golden-eyed boy grins with his arms crossed in triumph.

Hoping to distract from the situation and settle down the chaotic group, you speak up, “Kazutora, have you eaten yet today?” 

“Lunch?” the adorable boy asks with sweet, rounded eyes as you nod and open up your arms for him to nestle and cuddle into. It might have been just a simple embrace to you but for the boy in your arms, it’s the only time he can relish in the gentle touch of a loving mother. 

“Should we order something for everyone?” you suggest as Haruchiyo whines and sneaks his way into your arms with Kazutora too. You don’t know what these boys have been through but it’s clear that they need the love and guidance of a secure guardian figure. If you took anything away from your parents’ teachings, it was how to care for children, “Any ideas on food? Preferably something everyone would like?”

“Why do they get to cuddle (Y/N)-nee?” Mikey shouts as he tries to pull Haruchiyo away from you, who only holds onto you tighter. The topic of food didn’t even hold their attention anymore and it usually did the trick so you were kind of beginning to panic.

“When do we get cuddles too?” Kakucho adds timidly, unable to meet your eyes and acting adorable, it made your heart weak. If you could cuddle all of them at the same time, you would.    

“I’m sorry but how about we all grab lunch first and then we can sort out cuddles after?” it took some deliberation but everyone eventually agreed after some whining. 

Over time, the children really grew on you and you, them. You’re practically their older sister now and they’ve come to actively seek you out whenever they needed a more tender care that their current guardians couldn’t compare to. Naturally, you’ve spoiled them in your own way by gifting them toys and presents they could only dream of wishing for but what they appreciated you more for is your time, understanding and gentle nature. 

They care for you so much that they start plotting multiple scenarios for you and Shinichiro to get together. It’s all a plot that results in them having you forever tied to them and since everyone wanted that, they all were willing to participate. 

“What was that all about?” Shinichrio asks with his hands on his waist. 

“Don’t think we’re doing this for you because (Y/N) onee-san can do so much better than you Shin-nii,” Mikey scoffs as the eldest Sano raises a brow, he never asked for their help.

“That’s right! She’s capable of getting someone better than you so don’t get cocky,” Izana chimes in, which raises Shinichiro’s brows. Surprisingly, Mikey and Izana are teaming up together despite their usually clashing opinions and Shinichiro doesn’t know whether he should be happy or not. Are you the only one that can bring them together like this? You’re more special than he thought.

Emma steps up with her own determined look, “it’s only because we want her to become our actual onee-san so don’t screw this up for us!” 

“Yeah!” the rest of the kids shout around him, “Don’t screw this up Shinichiro!” the mechanic is surprised Inupi is going along with them as well; the young blonde usually sides with him so it was even more surprising to see him like this. He must really like you too. 

Admitting defeat, Shinichiro laughs it off as he raises his hands in surrender. He’s just happy to see them united and happier than ever. 

 ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  ───

 You’ve integrated yourself so seamlessly into the Sano family that you were practically at their house every day, helping with the chores, cooking yummy meals, serving snacks and just being great company to everyone. It was the children who urged you to spend more time with them and dragged you into the home, refusing to accept any protests that came from you or anyone else. It was for the best, really, everyone loved having you around, especially Shinichiro. The mechanic loved seeing his siblings get along so well, even if their primary connection was you, he also loved how you took care of his grandpa; he was a stubborn elderly man that refused help but all you had to do was pull out an adorable pout and he couldn’t refuse. It was laughable, really. 

It was mid-afternoon and Mikey had finished training in the dojo. To relax, he was now lounging around with you at the back of the house, his head laying on your lap and still dressed in his dojo uniform. 

“I don’t like having an onii-san,” Mikey voices past his lollipop, his statement coming from, seemingly, out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?” you gasp, your shock making you momentarily stop stroking the young boy’s hair, “Shin is such a good older brother to you, Emma and Izana,” 

“I mean…I like my onii-san but I want an onee-san more,”  Mikey finally meets your eyes although brief and quickly goes back to surveying the back garden. 

You laugh at his statement before slowly simmering down to a giggle, “what makes you think that having an onee-san is so much better?”

“Because you’re like an onee-san…” Mikey confesses, a light pink dusting his cheeks as you smile warmly down at him, “and you make a great one,” 

“Thank you, Mikey,” despite your kind tone and gentle smile, Mikey still doesn’t meet your eyes as the pink of his cheeks escalates into a deep red. To further express your thanks, you lean down and give him a soft kiss on the temple. If he wasn’t as red as a tomato before, he certainly was now. 

The conversation was so out of nowhere but still felt as though it held so much meaning that you wanted to press Mikey more on the topic but the atmosphere just didn’t feel right. That and he seems pretty unresponsive after your innocent kiss. 

For now, you’ll wait until a similar conversation is brought up again. 

“You know, Grandpa and I really like having you around the house (Y/N)-onee-chan!” Emma voices as the two of you cook together side-by-side. Tonight, you both wanted to cook curry for the family so, while you took care of peeping the potatoes, Emma prepped the carrots. 

It appears as though you didn’t have to wait too long. 

You have a sneaking suspicion about what they want from you but you keep your suspecting smile to yourself and play along, “Oh? Why is that?”

Emma smiles brightly up at you before continuing to peel carrots, she’s so happy you didn’t try to correct her for calling you her onee-chan, “it’s just nicer is all!”

“I’m glad, I like being here too, Emma-chan,”

“Really?!”

“Of course!” you both grin at each other, “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here every day,” the two of you giggle. 

“Then you want to be here all the time, right!” Emma tries to confirm from you, her eyes sparkling in the kitchen light as her cheeks become a cute pink - her and Mikey are undeniably siblings. 

“Without a doubt!”

“Then-” Emma begins, only to be cut off as her grandpa makes his entrance into the kitchen. He’s grinning from ear to ear and holding the tray you had served his tea and wagashi in. 

“Then you are always welcome here, child!” 

“Thank you grandpa!” you smile and help him bring the tray over to the kitchen counter as you begin to wash the used utensils. Behind you. Emma deflates at her failed plan but continues to prep the carrots. You’re sure of who will be the next one to approach you from there. 

“Be my girlfriend,” Izana announces out of nowhere as you gape in astonishment. 

“Ah-” the young Sano’s statement was so unbelievable, you wanted to laugh in disbelief but seeing the serious look in his eyes, you gulped. You shake the heat off your neck before it could reach your cheeks and calmed your heart before speaking, “I’m flattered Izana but I think you’re too young for me. And besides, I’m sure you don’t want to be with someone who is so much older than you-”

Izana shakes his head, his eyes still serious and unshaken, “no, you’re perfect!”

You finally allow yourself to laugh at the situation, “Thank you, but I still can’t accept your confession, I’m afraid,”

“…then be Shin’s girlfriend instead!” Izana finally answers you after pondering to himself momentarily. 

“Wha-?!!” an immense heat overcomes your cheeks and you’re at a loss for words. You had the intuition that this was soon coming but you were still left unprepared for how to react. Izana is simply too bold for you.

“You like him, don’t you?” 

“Well…- uhh!” as you were trying to find the words to answer Izana appropriately, you see the mischievous look on his face and realise the trap that had been set for you. Gasping aloud, you squint your eyes accusingly at the little boy, “Izana! Y-you!”

“I’ll take that as a yes!” he smirks and begins to walk away with a skip in his step before shouting, “SHIN-NII HAS A CHANCE!” 

It wasn’t long before you found yourself in Shinichiro’s motorcycle workshop, alone with the mechanic himself and explaining all the encounters you had with his younger siblings. As you go about retelling your experience, Shinichiro charmingly cycled through different shades of red from his seat crouched over a motorcycle. You don’t know what was more amusing to you, seeing Shinichiro so flustered or the entire situation.

“I’m really sorry about them-“ 

“You know, they do have a point,” you smile, staring off and avoiding Shinichiro’s curious, wide-eyed stare. 

“Wha-?”

“I quite like being an onee-san to Mikey, Emma and Izana,” Shinichiro gulps in anticipation at your statement. He can feel the 3 pairs of eyes watching you two and the muted impatient shuffling of small feet from behind the door to his office, looking into his workshop, “I also really like you,”

The silence that follows your confession is dense and your gradually climbing heart rate becomes the only thing you can hear. 

“…I like you too,” Shinichiro confesses and for the longest minute, you two sit in heart-fluttering silence before Shinichiro finally finds the words to ask you, “please be my girlfriend,”

Instead of verbally answering, you smile brightly and make your way over to him. Once you’re in front of the eldest sano, you take his hands and wrap them around your waist as you lean up to wrap your arms around his neck and lock his lips into a deep kiss. 

“YEESSSSSSSS!” a combined shout screams in the background as you and Shinichiro smile into the kiss, tightening your hold on one another and deepening your embrace. 

Following the news of your relationship, Shinichiro’s grandfather approved right away, so did all of the kids and Shinichiro’s friends too. 

“Took you guys long enough,” Wakasa grins as Takeomi steps up beside him with a smirk after putting out his cigarette. 

“We were losing our minds over you two taking your sweet-ass time,” Benki laughs and pulls Shinichiro into his side with an arm around the mechanic’s shoulders.

“So, have you taken her out yet?”

Shinichiro rubs the back of his neck with a look of worry, “I want to but…I can’t think of anything good enough for her,” his trio of friends give him a look of confusion and he elaborates, “I don’t know if you guys have seen her but (Y/N) clearly comes from a very wealthy family,” they nod, “and I’m not- I’m not-!…she’s way out of my league and I don’t want our first date to be a disappointment,” 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself man,” Wakasa consoles, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Remember that she’s dating you for you; not for your money,” Benki adds, “if she wanted a rich fancy guy, I’m sure she would have had that option ages ago,” despite the comforting words, Shinichiro still seemed down cast over the prospect. They don’t get it. How can he not understand that if you wanted him for his money, why did you willingly spend so much time with him at his humble bike shop? If you really cared about material things, you wouldn’t have pursued him in the first place, you wouldn’t have put up with getting to know his younger siblings or even wasted your time cooped up in his cramped office. They would have sensed that you had ill intentions with him and prevented him from pursuing you. They didn’t see that ill-intent in you, however, and happily encouraged him to notice you instead.  

“Besides, knowing how much of a hopeless romantic you are, I’m sure you’ll come up with something nice to do together,” Takeomi’s comment and lazy smile sets the mechanic’s mind turning right away. 

Maybe he could think of something…

 ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  ───

 “Shin? What are you doing here?” you were shocked. Admittedly, you weren’t having a good day but getting a surprise visit from your boyfriend was slowly washing all of that away, you would have been smiling by now if it weren’t for the get up he was in. 

In front of you, Shinichiro was parked on his motorbike, dressed in a suit and tie with fingerless biker gloves  on and his helmet off, showcasing his unruly hair. Looking down, his shoes were not the ones you saw him typically wearing, on his bike he was now wearing a pair of oxford dress shoes. You’ve seen many men dressed like that and had grown tired of the aesthetic long ago but seeing Shinichiro in that smart attire while on his motorbike is making your heart do unspeakable things in your chest. It’s hard to breathe and your face is lava-hot. He looks so sexy, elegant and handsome; he pulls it off so well. 

“Sorry, sorry, I was so excited to take you out, I forgot to ask you first,” your boyfriend bashfully admits, scratching the back of his head with a flustered look on his face, his other hand fiddling with his helmet perched on his bike. You smiled, you’re so happy to have met a sweetheart like him, “Can I take you out today?”

“I can never say no to you,” grinning at each other, he pulls out a helmet to help you put on before doing the same and waiting patiently for you to get on the bike behind him so he can finally race off. This is the first time you’ve ridden on a bike together so you squeeze him tightly around the torso in an attempt to secure the moment into your memory. 

The ride to your first destination didn’t take too long but you wish it did. You loved having your arms around him as he speeds past cars and buses. It was also a bonus being able to feel his toned abs under his white button up. You still can’t believe he’s your boyfriend and that you were his girlfriend. It felt like a dream. He doesn’t pry too much into your private life, he’s respectful, a family man and owns a business. Also, ever since you pointed out his bad smoking habit, he’s made the conscious decision to smoke less and less, there’s still a lingering scent of smoke surrounding him, however, but you’ll have to admit that it adds to his already musky cologne. He’s so perfect. You hope you measure up to him just as well. 

“Here we are,” Shinichiro announces, taking off his helmet and help you with yours. With one arm he pulls you close by the waist and with the other he gestures to a carefully laid out picnic. There was a large woven picnic basket in the middle of a large blanket, on the side there was a bouquet of flowers and an ice box with a 2L bottle of Coca-cola inside. 

“Wow! Shin, this looks so romantic,” you gush, taking in the scene and letting your heart race a million miles a minute, “did you prepare this all for me?” you ask sweetly, fluttering your lashes up at him as you turn to wrap your arms around his waist, your chin sitting on his tie.

“I had a little help preparing it all but it was my idea,” as he stares down at you, a soft smile lifts the corners of his lips, showcasing his dimples while a hand plays with a strand of your hair, “do you like it?”  

To answer him, you gently tug on his tie and lead his lips into a deep kiss, “I love it, thank you so much, Shin,” his smiles widens and he kisses you again before gently taking your hand and leading you to sit on the blanket. 

“This evening, my fine lady, I have prepared for you something you have never tried before,” Shinichiro announces as you awe from eagerness and anticipation. Rising to his knees, Shinichiro pulls out from the picnic basket several bags of McDonalds take away and you laugh loudly with your head thrown back. You’ve told him about not having ever tasted fast food before so this was a perfect chance to introduce you to some. 

“Awww~ Shin, you remembered~” you coo as he winks at you, grinning proudly. 

“Of course!” he begins to lay out your meal in front of you, ”I got you a cheeseburger, chips with the condiment sachets and chicken nuggets,”

“Oh wow! Thank you so much!”

“For dessert, I’m taking you out for ice cream,”

“That sounds perfect!” 

Shinichiro takes out his phone so as to play romantic piano music and the scene was officially set, your happy meal together could finally commence. He’s tried so hard and it makes you so happy. 

As you devoured the grease, processed meat and artificial flavouring, you have to admit that it was the best meal you had ever eaten. There wasn’t a claustrophobic, overly opulent atmosphere to surround you, no golden chandeliers dazzling overhead, no tiny portions of food or the need for any eating utensils. It was a perfect meal. 

“You’ve really outdone yourself, Shin,” you compliment after the two of you laughed over his yellow Gudetama-themed socks, a contrast to his tuxedo and smart dress. It was a charming disparity to his black and white suit. 

“Are you sure you liked it?” 

“Of course, I did! That was the best meal I’ve ever had,” you exclaim, your smile bright and your eyes sincere. 

“I just…you’re always so dressed up and it’s obvious you come from a good family so I didn’t want to disappoint you,” 

You smiled. He’s noticed your wealth but didn’t pursue anything else from you, whether it be information on your background or a share of your money, instead he just tries his best to please you in his own way. He’s such a dream come true. 

“I love you for you Shinichiro, not your money,”

He smiles, “That’s what Benki told me,”

“And he’s absolutely right,” you crawl over to sit in between his legs and lean against his chest, “this was a perfect first date…” you sigh. 

“Not yet,” Shinichiro chimes grinning down at you when you look up to him abruptly, wrapped up in his arms and looking oh-so sweet, “I promised ice cream for dessert remember?” 

Giggling, the two of you put your helmets on again before Shinichiro takes you to an ice cream parlour. He told you not to worry about leaving behind the picnic, he had already messaged his friends to help him clear up the setting so you two could happily enjoy your ice cream without worry. 

To end the perfect date, Shinichiro dropped you off in front of your apartment building in the better part of town and left after you made him take off his helmet so that you could give him one last kiss as he leans against his parked bike. His arm was swept around your waist and pulled you close as his other hand caressed your cheek. Your skin was so soft, he made the right choice in taking off his fingerless, leather gloves first. Your lips still had traces of the ice cream you had earlier, it was a good flavour but tasting it from your lips made it that much better. He couldn’t get enough. He could spend hours just kissing you as the world disappears.

“Shin-” you mutter, pulling away for a quick breath. 

“I’m not done,” he keeps kissing you, breathless as his hands begin to wonder. One hand reached up to grasp at your hair and trace your scalp with his fingers as the other drew the dips and curves of your silhouette. 

“But-” you gasp only to be cut off again by his lips. 

“Not yet…” he moans into your mouth, “I want more,” he pulls away to trail kisses down your neck as your hands claws helplessly at his shoulders. The entire time, your head is fuzzy and a weightless sensation sparks through you while a carnal weight develops in between your legs sending shocks of pleasure through you. Just from kissing him and having his lips on your neck, he makes you feel so weak. 

“Shin, I have to go…” you whine. 

“Please~” he begs beside your ear, pressing a gentle kiss against the shell. 

“I can’t…no matter how much I want to continue,” you whisper, stopping his incoming lips with a finger. He pulls a shocked face before it morphs into a pout and you giggle. 

Trailing your eyes down, you fix his tie slightly and assure him, “I’ll see you again tomorrow,” he still has his hands around your waist and you were about to ask him to let go when you notice his eyes had gone cold and were fixed on something behind you, “Shin?” you turn around and freeze up at a familiar face. 

“Oi! (Y/N), it’s been a while!…” the sharply dressed man shouts at you, a smug smirk on his lips as anger knits his brows, “You know, it’s impolite for you to just stand there and not greet me,” you knew exactly who he was but didn’t want to answer him so you curled up further into Shinichiro’s chest. He was a well-dressed man but that was a disguise hiding his greedy and despicable nature. You can’t believe you ever went out with him. It was only one date but it was still a huge waste of your time and sanity. You never thought you’d see Akihiko again but you’re glad Shinichiro is with you for it. 

“Don’t talk to my girl like that!” Shinichiro shouts, embracing you warmly and staring daggers at the unknown man before him. He doesn’t know the history you two have but he’s not gonna let him verbally abuse you in public. 

“What? Your girl? Are you two dating?” Akihiko laughs humourlessly at the silence that follows, “You can’t be serious, I’m the only one for you (Y/N). Your parents have me as a potential suitor, remem-?!”

Before he could finish, there was a bang and a flickering of the street lamp above you. Looking up, you realise that Shinichiro had punched the lamp post and caused an indentation in the body of the lamp post. The look on his face resembled that of a fierce beast ready to attack. 

You whisper his name softly, reaching up to touch his cheek but it doesn’t affect him, “Stay away from (Y/N) or else…” Akihiko didn’t say a word but like the coward he is, he walked away grumbling under his breath with his hands in his pocket. 

“I’m sorry, Shin,”  

“It’s alright,” your boyfriend smiles but there’s a sadness behind it. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Will your parents approve of me?” 

“They will,” he doesn’t look convinced, “they love me and only want me to live happily, you’re the first guy to ever make me feel this happy so you’re already more than qualified,” wordlessly, he kisses your cheek and goes to put on his helmet, “come and meet my parents with me tomorrow,” his hands freeze in place and he looks at you with a wide-eyed stare, “is noon good? We’ll treat you to lunch,” you smile as he nods, gives you another kiss before riding away. 

 ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Your debut into high society had been fast approaching and your parents did their best to respect your want for patience when it came to the topic of your suitor, little did they know that you already had one in mind. Knowing your parents, they’ll be accepting of anyone as long as you’re happy and they take good care of you. 

You had originally wanted to savour your time getting to know Shinichiro as a boyfriend first before you introduce him to your parents but you had no choice ever since the unpleasant encounter you had the night of your first date. Your mom and dad had contacted you with an image sent to them of you and Shinichiro kissing outside your apartment building. It was most likely sent from that bitter man, Akihiko. Thankfully your parents weren’t angry and only wanted to meet Shinichiro in person. It made you grin at how horribly bad that insignificant guy’s actions backfired on him, he didn’t know your parents like you did. He probably thought they’d be disgusted with your new boyfriend and demand that you break up with him right away. 

“Don’t be nervous, Shin, they’ll love you, just be yourself,” you laugh to yourself softly at his distressed composure. It’s really cute how nervous he was, it shows just how much he cares about making a good first impression and it was heartwarming. Shinichiro knew that you were rich but he didn’t know that you were this rich. Upon arriving at the gates of your parents’ estate, he was dumbfounded. This type of wealth was unfathomable to him; he didn’t know what to think or how to act.

The front doors opened and you were both greeted by a butler who immediately took his coat, leaving him in his oversized white shirt, simple silver chain and usual cargo pants. He was clean and fresh but wished you’d let him dress up in a suit like he did for your first date. You reasoned that he was perfect as his normal self and continued to assure him that your parents would love him either way. 

Entering the dining room, you immediately run to your parents with your arms open wide and pull them both into a hug. The three of you exchange brief words of greeting before all attention finally turns to Shinichiro, who had been carefully observing the scene. He could tell that your parents loved you dearly, the love in their eyes upon seeing you and the wide smiles on their lips definitely belong to parents that were incredibly prideful and caring of their daughter. 

“So you’re my daughter’s boyfriend, huh?” your father greets, reaching out to shake Shinichiro’s hand and snapping the mechanic out of his brief trance. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you sir, I am Sano Shinichiro,” Shinichiro greets, bowing as he shakes your father’s hand. 

“What a handsome young man you are,” your mother chimes in, hugging your father’s arm, “I can tell you’ve made our (Y/N) very happy so there’s nothing to object to,” at that, you and Shinichiro lock eyes and share a smile, “let’s all take a seat, shall we?” your mother suggests, walking with her husband to the table. Your father pulls the chair out for your mother before taking his own seat at the head of the table, silent and stoic, “lets get to know our future son-in-law over some delicious lunch, shall we?”

Son-in-law?

Ignoring the comment, Shinichiro follows suit and pulls your chair out for you before taking his own seat at your side. Your mother is in good spirits but your father has yet to utter another word after having greeted him as your boyfriend. 

“Thank you for having me over for lunch today,” Shinichiro bows to your parents once more, your mother cooing as your father remains stoic. He’s a very tough and imposing character, his frame towering and bulky but also sharp and clean. Shinichiro was definitely intimidated but all he has to do is think about how you love him and how he loves you to gain back his strength. 

“It’s our pleasure having you seat at our table, Shinichiro-kun,” your mother lightly hits your fathers should, clicking her tongue playfully, “honey, stop being silly and greet the sweet boy,”

“Sorry love,” your father kisses the back of your mother’s hand before turning back to Shinichiro but with a bright smile rather than a straight face, leaving your boyfriend speechless. How could he have switched demeanours so quickly? “we’re happy to have you here, son,”

Son? 

“Shall I serve everyone’s drinks? I’m sure lunch will take a while,” you pipe up and stand from your chair. 

“Let me give you a hand,” Shinichiro kindly offers and you nod, your parents smiling happily at the two of you walking off together to serve the drinks. They were so happy that you finally seem to have found the one for you. It’s just what they had hoped for their loving daughter.

“Why are they calling me those things?” you dreaded his question but gulped down your nerves. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like ‘son-in-law’ and ‘son’, we’re not engaged…” ‘yet’, Shinichiro wanted to finish.

“The thing is, Shin, since I’m not from an ordinary family, us being together means…” your blood runs hot and cold at the same time, you’ve been so anxious about this confrontation and the idea of losing Shinichiro over this big step but it’s better to be straightforward then prolonging hiding this from him, “being together means engagement,”

“What?!” Shinichiro exclaims, his throat dry and his cheeks flaring up into a bright pink. He isn’t opposed to eventually asking for your hand but this is too soon, you’ve only been on one date, “This is too soon, (Y/N), it’s not that I’m opposed to being engaged to you but I just want to be dating you without the thought of that in the foreground,”

You smile. This is why you like him so much. He’s sweet and thoughtful and isn’t a push over when it mattered.

“I agree…don’t worry we’ll talk to my parents together about this,”

It’s clear that you’d be doing this backwards if you carried one as things stands now. Normal courting and boyfriend and girlfriend things will always be overshadowed by that looming future commitment. It’ll be too much pressure on the both of you. Thankfully, your mother and father abandoned tradition for your brother and his, now, fiancé so there isn’t a doubt in your mind that they would be lenient on you too. 

Drinks were quickly poured and lunch closely followed in being served. Throughout the meal, conversation was leisurely and comfortable, Shinichiro stayed truthful the entire time and was happy to see that your parents didn’t look down on his humble background and honest labour, in fact, they praised him for the success he’s been able to achieve on his own and with his own skills. To Shinichiro, it felt incredibly nice to be complimented by the parents of the woman he loves. 

However, one urgent topic needed addressing still and Shinichiro upon seeing the end of lunch, chimed up. He confessed that he has never had the courage to propose to you and has yet to ask for their express permission to officially date you. He then takes the time to stand and bow deeply to your parents. 

“Please allow me to date your daughter. I promise to treat her well and love her with my whole heart,” Shinichiro bows so deeply, his head hits the dinning room table but he doesn’t flinch, instead he stays in his deep bow until your father speaks up. 

“Thank you for formally asking us. Traditionally, we’d want you to get engaged right away but we approve of you courting our daughter first,” your parents love him instantly and can’t wait until you get properly engaged in the future and join families. 

NAVI. | TOKYO REV. MLIST

A/N: i want to write a part 2 to make up for the trashy and rushed ending of this fic but i don’t know how long it’ll take so i hope you dolls like the fic as it stands now 

TAGLIST : 

@anime-weeb-4-life ; @iheartamajiki ; @shotthemessenger ; @echothy ; @swtsuya ; @acuario2 ; @saccharisa ; @hangesidekick ;  @emotionalfangirl2002 ; @kookie02 ; @lordbugs ; @answer-the-sirens ; @toobsessedsstuff ; @moonbinnie0983 ; @kinba-ri ; @beaniebanby ;  @themoonandlover ; @ravensfeatheruniverse 

[ssukidesu]

what friends do

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: T

Nalu Week 2024 ( @allaboutnalu @thenaluarchive )

Summary: Lucy gets a little too happy and does something (maybe not) regrettable.

Chapter 5: what a stranger wouldn’t know (jealousy)

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 6

Read on AO3

Read under the cut

“Lucy, are you listening?”

“…Yes—of course!”

No. Of course not.

Lucy knew that Erza had been in the middle of communicating essential information, information that would decide the success or failure of the mission.

But no matter how serious Lucy knew the matter was, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the bar. She knew what he was doing was also in service to the mission, but did he have to do it… like this?

Blend in. You are fulfilling the role of spies here. Do whatever you need to do to expel suspicion, as a group like yours will likely attract it easily. Get in, distract the targets, let Happy sneak his small body into the air ducts and into the back room to steal the key, and get out.

She knew all that. She heard their client’s debrief just as everyone else did. But what she didn’t know was that one of the targets would be a brunette bombshell in a small black dress who had a certain affinity for pink-haired fire mages.

Lucy glared from afar, and she wondered how they didn’t feel her stare. The woman was tall, her long legs bringing her to near equal height to her partner, and her lips were painted bright red. She was currently tracing a finger up his arm, which was unusually unexposed due to his form-fitting suit.

Lucy clenched her teeth. She remembered arguing with him about putting it on, saying that he’d stick out like a sore thumb in his normal vest and pants. He’d rolled his eyes and jabbered about being comfortable for a potential fight—to which she responded that, if they did their jobs correctly, there wouldn’t be a fight. He groaned in boredom at that. But she eventually coaxed him into the dress shirt, helped him put on the black jacket, and even secured a red tie beneath his neck.

She had done that for him. Lucy. So nobody else had any business touching him like that.

Erza cleared her throat, and Lucy finally whipped her head around and returned her vexed gaze.

“Shall I repeat myself?” she asked with feigned patience.

Lucy’s ears burned. “Yes, please,” she said meekly.

…

The night passed slowly.

Lucy was assigned to chat up the bouncer, a middle-aged man who had a buzzed head and was so tall he towered over her, which unfortunately meant she’d be at a poor angle to monitor her partner’s… success in distracting his own target.

She took out her frustration on the poor man, who—though certainly tough-looking—had a weakness for her feminine wiles. She gave it all she had, batting her eyelashes and puffing out her generous chest. She even found an excuse to whisper some washed up secret close in his ear. He never got handsy, but she saw his eyes roaming her figure whenever he got the chance.

A small, twisted part of her hoped that Natsu was watching her just as she’d been watching him. Well, maybe it wasn’t that small. She wished she could turn around for just a second to check out… his progress.

Eventually, the bouncer mumbled that he had to step out to deal with a fight that had broken out in the front lot. She frowned at him sullenly, but her heart thumped at the realization that she’d be free for at least a moment.

When he exited the building, she turned around.

And her stomach turned to stone.

Natsu had sat down on a stool, but the woman was still standing. His arm was braced casually on the bar, putting him in a nice relaxed recline. She had his hand, and it almost looked like she was reading his palm.

His smile was certainly fake—she knew all of his smiles like the back of her hand, including the one he pulled out when he was slightly uncomfortable. But he was obedient to her exploring, and Lucy watched as every once in a while her lips would move as she undoubtedly told him some fictitious fortune she saw written in the calloused lines there.

Her feet were moving under her before she knew what was happening.

The bar was small, and it would only take her about twenty paces to reach them. But his senses were sharp, and his head turned to her when she was still a ways away. No small amount of pride filled her chest when she saw his pseudo smile twist into a real one. And it was one of her favorites—the one that crookedly quirked the right side higher than the left and furrowed his brows until they came low. It oozed mischief.

The woman noticed her interlocutor’s distraction and turned her own attention to where his had gone. She scowled instantly. Lucy kept her smile intact.

“Hey, Natsu,” she greeted.

“Lucy,” he said casually, nodding his head once in acknowledgment.

Lucy was going to say hello to the woman next, but she spoke first, and to Natsu:

“I think I’m going to run to the restroom.” Her tone was sweet, but Lucy saw her eyebrow twitch.

Lucy watched as she left the bar, taking stock of her retreating form with more obvious disdain than she probably should have.

“How’s it going?” he asked. To anyone listening, it sounded like a normal friendly question. But Lucy knew its cryptic nature.

She stood so close to him she was almost between his bent knees. “Pretty good,” she said, peering softly down at him. “There’s a fight outside apparently, though.”

“Ah,” he said. She saw a twinkle of intrigue in his gaze, and she knew he wished he was out there in the middle of it.

“And how are you?”

“Also good,” he responded easily. “Getting pretty hungry, though. They don’t have much food here.”

Lucy smirked. Leave it to Natsu to be thinking about food when the prettiest woman in the building was throwing herself at him.

They were waiting for Happy’s return—as soon as he came back, they’d know it was time to get out of dodge. Until then, they just had to keep at it.

Lucy peered back toward the bar entrance, saw the bouncer had not yet returned, and brought her gaze back to him. “Wanna get pizza after?” she asked.

His expression melted into one of weakness, and he tilted his head back with an impatient sigh. “Please,” he drawled pitifully.

She giggled. Then, in the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar black dress emerge from the bathroom.

Lucy’s mood immediately soured again. And then—she swore, out of nowhere—a devious idea came to mind. She wetted her lips.

So what if he still thought it was just a friendly gesture? A stranger at a bar wouldn’t know the difference.

“Natsu,” she said suddenly. “Go buy me a drink.” She didn’t return her attention to him until she was met with seconds of silence.

He looked confused. One eyebrow was curled up in suspicion, and his lips were pursed.

She swallowed. “For the mission,” she mumbled, willing herself to remain confident.

He nodded once wordlessly, and pushed himself off the stool. She took the abandoned spot as she waited.

His absence kept the woman from resuming her place at the bar right away, but Lucy hoped she would watch for his return from a distance.

When he came back, Lucy stood to welcome him. He’d known exactly what to order her—a moscow mule with mint and a cherry. Her smile was genuine when she took hold of it by the handle, which he had angled toward her. But she didn’t pull it from his grasp right away; instead, she took an additional step toward him, the tips of their shoes a mere inch apart. Luckily, her heels made the next part easy: she didn’t need to grab his face or suit collar to pull him down. She simply raised her lips to his cheek, the smell and warmth of him radiating into her nose and skin, and kissed him softly.

Perhaps a little too close to his mouth… but she told herself it was an accident. When she pulled away, she inspected her work: just as she’d hoped, there, right beside his mouth, was a clear imprint of her pink lipgloss.

Their eyes met.

“Thank you,” she muttered, wondering upon seeing his dilated pupils and drooping eyelids if she’d gone too far.

“Sure,” he said lowly, releasing the drink to her. When had his hand grabbed her waist? But it was gone just as quickly, and she chose that moment to slip away. She felt his eyes on her back as she reclaimed her spot toward the entrance, where the bouncer would return any moment.

Lucy didn’t even think to check if the black-dressed woman had watched the whole thing.

(She had.)

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

"Better Late Than Never" Part 13

Father-son bonding time (Ghost learns about cars from Price)

Soap sat in one of the garages on their base, playing with some cables and trying to appear as small and unimportant as he could so no one bats an eye at the fact that he is once again playing with explosives. 

He was ready to connect the final wires when suddenly he heard someone calling for him. He hid the small bomb behind his back, as he stood up. He prayed for his creation to not blow up in his hands, surrounded by cars full of flammable fuel.

"Mactavish!" A man who Soap knew was a lieutenant of a different Task Force situated at their base came up to him. "You are an engineer, right?"

Soap's brows furrowed. "Well... I-"

"My mechanic is indisposed and I need that car-" He gestured to a truck behind him. "-working by tomorrow. Is that clear sergeant?"

"I'm n-" 

"Good." The man interrupted him once again. Soap had to take a deep breath and count to ten. "I will check on your job later." After that, he was gone.

Soap stood still for a few seconds, making sure that the officer wasn't in his earshot anymore- then he carefully placed the unfinished explosive in his bag. 

"What a fucking prick!" Soap shouted frustrated causing a few other soldiers in the garage to look at him. He looked at the car he was supposed to fix. "Ah am not a fucking car engineer..."

And that was a problem because he had no idea how to fix a car, that asshole didn't even tell him what needed fixing. He walked up to the truck and kicked one of its tires- which he regretted as pain struck through his foot. He grabbed his leg trying to collect himself before checking out the car.

"Ok.. let's see." He muttered to himself. Soap walked around the car, searching for something obvious- like a flat tire. Something he could figure out how to fix quite easily. Sadly he didn't spot anything so he got inside the car and tried to start it.

He twisted the keys that were already in the ignition.

Nothing.

He tried again... and

Nothing.

He put his head on the wheel- it meant that the problem was probably not easy to fix. He already can't wait for the lieutenant to come back and be pissy about the job not being done, but it's not like it was his fault. He would fix it- if it was a bomb that he was supposed to fix. That's what you get when you are disrespectful to others and interrupt them, ordering them around.

"What are you doing, Johnny?"

Soap was startled when he heard a familiar voice right next to him. "Ye should start sprotin' collar with a bell, sae ye can't sneak up on people lik' that. Someone will die o' heart attack, ye will see." Soap poked at Ghost's chest.

Ghost blushed under his mask- for some reason. For some reason thinking way too much about the idea of a collar around his neck... for some reason.

He was thankful for the material on his face.

"So you have a casual mental breakdown in the car or...." Ghost leaned on the car's mask, as Soap got out of the truck. 

"Permission to complain about a certain officer, Lt?"

"As long as this certain officer is not me, I am listening." He crossed his arms.

Soap took a final look around to make sure that twat wasn't anywhere near. "This one lieutenant, from the other Task Force."

"Hill?"

"Yeah, that fucker!" 

Ghost put a finger to his covered lips, letting Soap know that he really shouldn't be so loud about his... aversion to the other man. Soap simmered down a little.

"What about him, Soap?"

"He comes up to me, in my free time and orders me to fix that damn car. I tried to tell him I am not an engineer, but he just kept interrupting me. So now here I am trying to fix that piece of trash."

"You are an engineer."

"Explosives engineer. If he wants me to turn the engine into a nuke I sure can."

Ghost smirked. "I don't doubt that." He also kinda wished that Soap did that, because he will have to have a talk with that man about respecting your subordinates. "What were you doing here either way? I searched for you."

He searched for him.

"Soap?"

"Nothin'" Soap eyed the bag in which rested the unwired bomb. Ghost followed his gaze.

"Price will kill you, Johnny." The lieutenant shook his head, knowing damn well what was in the bag. It wasn't the first time.

Soap was ready to defend himself when Price appeared from nowhere. Speaking of the devil.

"Why will I have to kill him?" The captain questioned as he approached them.

"Uhh... I- well-" Soap stumbled over his words, scratching his neck nervously.

"He is just behind on the reports from our recent mission, but I will make sure he will finish them today..." Ghost looked at Soap from the corner of his eye. "Right, Soap?"

"Yes, sir." And people said that Ghost didn't have a heart covering for Soap like that.

"Well, then why are you here instead of working, sergeant?" He put his hands on his hips.

 "I have to fix that car, lieutenants Hill order." Soap huffed.

"And he doesn't know how." Finished Ghost.

Price rolled his eyes. "You just have to jump-start this junk. Happens all the time. Help him Ghost."

Ghost narrowed his eyes at Price. "I don't know how to do that."

Soap chuckled. "Finally something Ghost can't do."

"It's not like you can do that either."

"Stop bickering you two, I have enough of that on coms." He sighed. "Come on, get me the booster cables. I will teach you."

***

"So first you have to connect the red cable to the plus on the dead car's battery, you do the same to a working car." Price gave the red cable to Ghost. "Do what I said."

They were now all standing on either side of Price, listening to him as he showed them how to restart the car's battery.

"Ahh... I think mah pa tried to teach me this once when I was a kid. I wasn't too interested in it though." Soap said as he watched how Ghost connects the cars.

"Well, mine sure as hell didn't." Ghost mumbled under his nose. He has no idea why he said that, recently things were just slipping out of him. Especially around Soap, but also around the rest of his Task Force.

He could feel Soap's sad puppy eyes on him and Price stopped in his tracks. Ghost felt a hand squeezing his shoulder.

"That's why now you have me, son." Price stated-like it was the most obvious thing. 

Why were Ghost's eyes suddenly a little wet? It was nice- nice to hear.

"Come on, now take the black cable and connect it to the minus on the working car..."

***

As Price and Ghost were working- Soap stepped back, letting Ghost spend some time alone with the older man. He leaned on a tool cabinet and admired the scene before him- Price explaining to Ghost every part under the car's mask, even though they got it working some time ago. 

Price was determined to teach him everything and while to everyone around Ghost might have looked just like always- simply listening to his captain. Soap saw how Simon rubbed his gloved hands over his jeans, he learned it was a little happy stim of his. It showed how truly happy it made Simon to share this moment with Price.

At some point Gaz showed up, standing right next to Soap- he also observed as the pair of men worked around the truck.

"He looks happier you know? Happier than when I first met him." Said Kyle with a subtle smile.

+

Ghost totally looked at Lieutenant Hills with daggers in his eyes, because no one gets to talk like that to his sergeant, to his Johnny.

Hi guys! I got this prompt from my favourite Discord server <3 I hope you like it, and forgive me for any inaccuracies. I know nothing about cars or the military for that meter. Just here to have fun.

Next planned: Tickling